#you thought i WOULDNT log on for this? for shame

[valuehope]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAKOTO NAEGI MY SPECIAL LITTLE GUY !!! 🎉🌟💚‼️

[richardsphere]

Leverage Log, Season 3 E1: The Jailhouse Job

We have a commentary on the US governments continuous use of slavery in the prisonsystem (which is always a nice thing to see) and almost had me happy and distracted enough that I didnt see what they were doing with the guys name

They named him Adam Worth... They actually named him Adam Worth... They named the episode's villain Adam FUCKING Worth

As in "Adam Worth" the famous historic soldier who was mistakenly reported dead during the American civil war, and used the opportunity of his misreported death to become a renowned criminal whose empire was so notable that it served it earned him the actual title of "napoleon of crime"

They named the seasons started villain after the real historic inspiration for James Moriarty, and they thought I wouldnt notice?! Shame on you sir! Shame on you!

But yeah, also the season finale 2-parter was good and well executed, but what else can you expect from a show that has been consistently rocking it this hard. (thats mostly why i forgot to update the log, its too good to for me to stop and take the time to freeze an episode to write something. Gotta finish the episode first, and when its finished.. might as well watch the next one).

[matoimech]

i was gonna continue to dwell here like a cockroach until the servers went dark, aware that i will almost certainly outlive boss baby's time as ceo as the company inevitably changes hands again, but this whole thing has got me reconsidering that more sincerely than i anticipated. i thought surely it would stop. but then he starts going to harass trans women on other social platforms, posting the names of every account rita used in an attempt to... shame her? bully her for continuing to talk about it? this has been proving further to me that they are more than capable of tracking down and removing individuals that are creating sideblogs and new emails to launch harassment campaigns against trans people. they always could have. they just dont. how am i supposed to go about business as usual when that has been make so blatantly clear? this was always implicit, but now its explicit.

ive spent close to a decade lurking on this website or making accounts on it. i do a lot of my rp here. ive been gradually building up more art to post and sell here again. now i just feel sick and angry. i dont really care if rita broke tos in the way theyre claiming at this point, even tho i dont believe she had, i would argue even if she had it wouldnt warrant this behavior. i would hope that much would be obvious by now.

you followed her to another platform? to try and one up her? to preserve your crumbling image while youre on sabbatical? thats pathetic. plain and simple. even if i thought you were right. if you legitimately thought someone was making threats against you why would you track her down on another platform and go antagonize her?? nonsense. log off, man.

[yourgirlliddywhostillsmokes]

experiences of a fat girl

i hate food

i hate calories

i hate that i am so conscious of them and i hate that after i've eaten something the first thing i do is log it

i hate starving

but i hate eating

i hate that the first thought when i look at something is 'god that's fattening'

i hate how backhanded my mother's comments are

'your face is pretty and your features are unique but your face is far too round

your legs are long and it makes you look tall but its a shame your thighs are chubby

your general body shape is nice but you should try to cover it because your stomach ruins it'

i know she means well

and i know this is how she too was complimented growing up but i can't help but resent her and blame my habits on hers

i hate looking in the mirror and seeing myself look obese but being told to stop losing weight because my BMI is average

ive grown to resent everyone around and blame them for my own shortcomings

'if only i was nothing like my dad i would look better'

'if only my mum had not kept me on such a short leash i would have developed better'

these thoughts keep me up at night and consume my very soul, cause me to regret being born

cause me to grow biter and envious

ive stopped going out all together, i hate being by myself but also hate walking next to my best friend

i feel even worse about myself when looking at her, how could i not

her skin seems clearer

her stomach is much flatter

her thighs smaller

her marks more minimal

i wish i was skinnier

i wish i wasn't the friend no one stopped at the mall

i'm ashamed to admit how envious i am when i boy stops and asks my friend for her snap

and how bitter i feel when they talk about their boyfriends

i hate how the only validation i get are from old men down the street with nothing better to do but harass girls

its embarrassing when other girls suddenly look at me after disgussing their latest fling and i have to lie

it angers me how despite other girls and older women telling me im gorgeous i still don't have any boys doing so

i wish i was prettier

i wish i was skinnier

i wish i was smarter

i wish i was more than average

i wish i was simply dead because then finally

i wouldnt compare myself to my friends

i wouldnt log in all my food

i wouldnt have to hear my mums backhanded comments

i would be at peace, finally content

[maya-net]

Documentation on a Silver Exorcist, a Small Medium, a Smiling Siren, et al. - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Stars Align: Emma Xing Qixin, Tech Support and Professional Administrator of the Unofficial Zheng Ge’s Fanclub

The rustling of the seven large plastic packages of heavily discounted ramen complements the unforgivably nasty squeak of the styrofoam that protects the equally heavily discounted century eggs that Emma had spent the last of her weekly budget on. Squashed together in a trusty, faded blue shopping bag, they are placed very carefully on the chair. Her backpack is dropped just slightly less carefully onto another chair, and she rolls her shoulders, breathing in the various blends of caffeine and sugar wafting around the SunDollarsTM store that she had desperately scouted for.  

Xiqiang glides into the chair opposite, and with an elegant slide of an arm, slips Emma’s other equally faded blue shopping bag on to the seat beside her. Emma doesn’t understand how a human being can be that graceful, and sends a silent apology to her mom for being a failure of a daughter.

“I will order some refreshments,” Xiqiang’s voice washes over the background noise of the other patrons in the café. “What would you like? It will be my treat.”

“Oh no no no, no need! I have -” Emma grunts as she bends over her backpack and pulls down the zipper ornamented with the keychain of a blond cyborg, “a gazillion SundollarsTM gift cards! My college orientation and faculty events have the occasional lucky draws or mini contests, and I’d always get something out of them. It’s great, really. I regift them to my friends for birthdays. Saves me time and money from having to buy actual birthday presents. I keep my money, they get their coffee. But. Um. You didn’t hear that.” With some difficulty, she wrestles out a bright red gift card from the stack that is threatening to burst out of the seams of the pouch sewn into her backpack. “Ah, I’ll save this table. Could you help me order a large caramel frappe? And maybe one of their giant cookies. Any flavour is fine. Please and thank you!”

A pause. “Very well,” Xiqiang graciously replies as she accepts the gift card.

Seven minutes later, Emma is happily slurping down her frappe as a countdown timer to the livestream event pops up on her laptop screen. 47 minutes to go. Her ears are now plugged with a pair of earphones. Opposite her, Xiqiang is steadily typing away on her laptop with unnaturally impeccable posture.

It is at this very moment. That the universe decides to be an utter demon and opens the gates of chaos on what was supposed to have been a peaceful night with Emma Xing and the livestream of her Zheng ge, actor-singer and golden-hearted, multi-talented John Zheng.

Incoming Video Call: Estelle Xing

Emma accepts the call on her phone, and props it up on the table with the camera angled at her. She connects her second pair of earphones (won from a secondary school Poetry-in-Motion Competition with her epic poem Blood is a Vein Work of Art-eries) and stuffs the side with the microphone into her right ear. “Mom.”

“Emma. The house has no WiFi. My phone has not enough data to stream Gege’s event.”

“What. Why? Is it the router again? Did you turn it off for thirty seconds and turn it back on again?”

"Yes. Actually, I called Cellularity and they said that they were having a city-wide network issue.”

“Tch. D*mn company. I keep telling you to switch service providers!” Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “Wait, where’s Gramma? We all know she's the tech-savvy one, shame on you.”

“... She’s with her tai chi group today.”

“What?! I thought that was next week! And how could she miss Gege’s stream?!”

“... They rescheduled because one of their grandsons is getting married next week...”

“... Just... Go to a café or somewhere with WiFi and stream it there. Do you have leftover SundollarsTM gift cards from my last visit?”

Emma’s mom grimaces. “Yes. See, I actually thought of that. I’m at the nearest one.” The camera angle wobbles, and the queue of chattering teenagers at the cashier behind Emma’s mom blips into view for a hot second.  

Emma feels a strange sense of pride well up in her chest. “Mommy! So smart!”

Mommy laughs weakly. “Haha. Ah. Yah. I bought a strawberry shake. And then they told me that SunDollarsTM’s WiFi is actually with Cellularity. All the branches. In the whole city.”

… “Mom. Why is your luck so bad. Also. Why! Are! You! Drinking a strawberry shake! You are diabetic!”

“Almost diabetic! And this is low sugar! And! All my good luck was used up to give birth to you. Emmiee~”

“Don’t Emmie me! Aiyah, hang up hang up, don’t waste your data. I’ll message Danny. He’s with DiGiTellTM, not that bloodsucking Cellularity. You can go leech off his Wifi.”

“Aiyoh, your Danny, how can you do this to him - “

“ByeMomloveyou.” Emma ends the call, and snatches her phone off the table to begin typing at the lightspeed typical of her generation. The baby blue smiley starfish phone charm attached to it smacks her knuckles.

“Um. Pardon me,” Xiqiang coughs politely. Emma’s eyes dart up. “Your earphones weren’t connected properly.”

Oh.  

“Oh. Aaaaaaahahahahahahaha! Ha! Sorry about that! I’ll just...” Emma mumbles and screws in the earphone jack infinitesimally. “... tighten... this. I don’t use this pair very much. I forgot it does that. Sorry.”  

“It is fine.” Xiqiang blinks at her curiously. “Your mother is in WalaysiaTM?”

Emma’s fingers pause in their assault on her phone’s keyboard, brown eyes wide. “How did you know? Oh. Oh of course.” She slaps her forehead. “Our SundollarsTM WiFi here is obviously fine. We obviously don’t have Cellularity here in CanataTM. And yeah, I kind of revert to my accent when I’m with my family. You can tell?”

Xiqiang nods politely. “I see. Well, I do hope that this works out for you and your mother. You seem to be... close?”

Emma beams. “Thanks!” She returns to her phone.

LuckyStar: Danny.

LuckyStar: Danny.

LuckyStar: Danny.

No reply. She frowns.

LuckyStar: Danny DanyDanny. Dannyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Seen by BetterDanU 7.08PM

Emma’s nostrils flare.

LuckyStar: DANNY YOU DIPSTICK WAKE UP WAKEUP I KNOW UR AWAKE EMERGENCY

LuckyStar: DANIEL NG! U WAKE UP OR ILL POST THAT NEW YEARS VIDEO OF U. U KNOW WHICH ONE

BetterDanU: …

BetterDanU: I actually WAS SLEeping because some ppl actually have to WORK friday nite and want to zzz sat morning. 

BetterDanU: Have u not headr of timezones. WHAT DO U WANT  

LuckyStar: Liar, i know ur schedule, u were def not sleeping.

LuckyStar: Gege’s livestream is today!

BetterDanU: … I know. U wouldnt shut up abt it. wat do u want

LuckyStar: Cellularity’s wifi is down all city and mom cant stream it  

BetterDanU: tell her to go to sundollars

LuckyStar: sundollars is w cellularity! 😡

BetterDanU: … bloodsuckers.

LuckyStar: I KNOW. Anyway, mom is at the sundollars near our house. U know which one. Go pick her up n let her use ur wifi pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaz  

BetterDanU: …......… fine.  

LuckyStar: tnx ur the best!

BetterDanU: go away

With that situation handled, Emma neatly bites off one point of her star-shaped cookie, and turns her eyes back to her laptop screen. 36 minutes to go.  

Score: Emma – 1; Universe – 0.

The Universe decides to try again.

Incoming Video Call: Emily Xing

Emma slowly swipes across her phone screen after triple-checking that her earphones are 100% plugged in.  

“... Hi Gramma.”

“Emma!” Several ladies’ heads of various artificial shades of red, brown and black bob into view behind Emma’s grandmother’s face on Emma’s phone. “Why can’t we log in to your VooDooTM account on Mimi’s computer?”  

“... Gramma, did you all reschedule your tai chi group to watch Gege’s stream together using my VIP account which you definitely bragged about to them?”

“Emily, we kowtow! Your Emma is the best!” hollers one of the ladies. Emma’s grandmother preens.

Gramma, Emma despairs, why are you so Asian?

“Emmie~”

Emma closes her eyes and mutters, “Don’t Emmie me...”

“We have VooDooTM open on my laptop, but there is seven of us and one laptop is not enough! Mimi’s computer cannot access the page! It says – it says – what does it say?!” Emma’s grandmother yells.  

“This content is not available in your country!” Aunty Mimi yells back from somewhere behind.

Emma sighs in exasperation, “Gramma, they’ll need to install a VPN. Do you remember how we did it on your computer?”

Emma’s grandmother is stunningly silent for a solid three seconds, and shakes her head. Emma sighs again. “What’s the address?”

One minute later:

LuckyStar: Danny danny danny

LuckyStar: is everytng ok w mom?

BetterDanU: yeah, shes taken over my living room and tv I hooked up to the comp.  

BetterDanU: Shes drinkin a poisonous lppking pink drink and eating those giant star cookies they hv. Theyre not going to last until the end of the dtream.

LuckyStar: … wait.

LuckyStar: wHAT COOKIES. Get them away frm her, shes almost diabetic!

BetterDanU: how can someone be slmost diabetic???

BetterDanU: … she says its low sugar. theyre actually rpetty good.

BetterDanU: *pretty  

LuckyStar: u traitor! and of all the typos to correct!

BetterDanU: ….......

LuckyStar: anyway, DANNY I NEED UR HELP ITS ANOTHER EMERGENCY

BetterDanU: what now

LuckyStar: dont tell mom this,  

BetterDanU: oh? gossip?

LuckyStar: but gramma is with her taichi grp now and theyre trying to stream Gege’s event on two computers but the second one wont work becz they need vpn on that one  

BetterDanU: Wow. brutal gramma.

LuckyStar: danny pleeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaase can u go help them install the vpn  

LuckyStar: pleeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase 🥺🥺🥺

BetterDanU: ….............  

BetterDanU: where r they

Twenty-ish minutes and one VPN install and seven impressed old ladies and one harrassed Daniel Ng later, Emma daintily bites off the second point of her star cookie.  

Emma – 2; Universe – 0.

Xiqiang sips her tea quietly as Emma narrates this second victory to her, and then digresses into hero-worshipping multi-talented, golden-hearted John Zheng.  

Emma swoons. “We all stan him so much across multiple generations! Sure, he’s eye candy, but you know what, even I can admit that, objectively, he’s not the best looking. No but!” She sucks in some of her frappe to quickly rehydrate, “Even though his eyes are not 100% symmetrical, you know they’re 100% real! Can’t say the same about everyone else! Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And! Even though his teeth aren’t 100% perfect... You should see his smile! Oh! My! Heart!” She clutches said heart. “So genuine! Like a bunny! And most of all, that VOICE! That BRAIN! And that HEART!”

Xiqiang tilts her head slightly in what is definitely interest.

“You should watch his songs and dramas and his interviews! He’s really mature, has a charming sort of wisdom, and he really understands his characters. He works so, so hard, and he’s super nice to everyone, even his janitors! And even his haters! Like, what the heck!” A deep sigh. “He is. The Best Guy. In the Universe.”

And thus, the Universe’s third Attempt at utter buffoonery manifests itself in the yet another round of buzzing of Emma’s Very Tired phone. Emma slowly slumps in her seat. Xiqiang’s almond eyes flick to the poor phone, and she excuses herself as she returns to her own laptop for business-y exorcist stuff.

Emma breathes in. Very Deeply. And returns to her Very Tired phone.

Alicia: Hi Emma!

Alicia: Its been a while. I hope you are well!

Emma scrolls up to check the last conversation she had with Alicia. Eight months ago, when they had exchanged the obligatory birthday wishes, and then slinked back to their respective lives until the next birthday.

It’s a bit sad, actually. Emma and a handful of secondary school friends had once been pretty tight, having gone through the horrors of academia and adolescence together. But ever since graduation, everyone had sort of just... drifted apart. With the exception of Danny, practically everyone she knew and was close to had gone on to different cities and even countries to pursue tertiary education in fields so varied you would wonder how everyone had even managed to grow up together in the same academic cohort forced to take up certain courses due to the way their country’s totally not flawed educational system had been structured because of course everyone absolutely agrees on the complete relevance to real life that is inherent in subjects such as Physics and Geography and Moral Studies (which, in all fairness, would be considered a fairly necessary subject especially in today’s society, had it not been based on pure rote memorisation of the regimented definitions of pre-determined moral values instead of critically applying said moral values in the written scenarios thrown to them every exam) and flippin’ dipsticky CALCULUS and and and -  

And we digress.

Emma: Alicia! It’s been a while!  

Emma: How may I help u?  

Alicia: Heehee. 😇

Alicia: iirc, I think u mentioned that u got a VIP VooDooTM account?

Emma: … Alicia you leech! Go buy ur own account!  

Alicia: im poor and u know it!

Emma: We’re millennials! We're all poor!

Emma: go upgrade with a 30 day free trial. Then just unsubscribe after.

Alicia: I can’t. 😭 I did it before and ti remembers my email add and wont let me do it again.  

Alicia: *it  *won’t

Emma: Then use another email add! We’re millennials! Who doesn’t have a back up email account?  

Alicia: I did! I used up my JmailTM, insightTM, innet, etc etc accounts last year  

Emma: Use ur parents’!  

Alicia: I did! They were  

Alicia: Confused when they got the notifs but thank goodness they thought it was Junk 😊  

Emma: … Girl, how much drama do you watch on there.

Alicia: Too much. Im in too many fandoms.  

Alicia: EMMA PLEASE! It's just to watch John Zhengs promo livestream for The Fox today! I swear I will not misuse ur account!  

Alicia: One day when I have money, I swear I will buy my own account.  

Emma: That is a lie and we both know it.

Alicia: 🤐

Emma remembers their shared afternoons of literal tears after every Calculus test they barely passed, and curses her soft heart as she gives Alicia her user name and password in an act of benevolence which she somehow has a feeling she will come to regret.

Alicia: Thank you sm. U rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Emma: Its so u don’t get desperate enough to do anytng illegal.

Alicia: We both know im not that smart lol  

Emma: We are legal! And scrupulous!

Emma: For Zheng ge!

Alicia: For Zheng ge!  

“John Zheng seems to have an unusually loyal fanbase,” Xiqiang comments from behind her laptop. Emma nods absent-mindedly. She has barely bitten off the third point of her star cookie when her Very Very Tired phone begins buzzing again.  

Incoming Video Call: BetterDanU 

No longer keeping track of her score with the Universe, Emma sinks lower into her chair under Xiqiang’s intrigued gaze, and weakly answers her phone, “Hello?”

She does not expect her grandmother’s distraught face under the profile name of BetterDanU: “Emmie! Why can’t we log into your account with another computer? It says that – that – Danny ah, what does it say?”

Emma nearly spits out blood. “How many devices are you trying to log into?!” Her hard-earned, greatly coveted VIP account that no one else seemed to want to buy for themselves allowed simultaneous sign-ins to a maximum of ten different devices, a feature that was absolutely necessary for the three generations of the Xing family.  

“Mimi’s daughters and granddaughters came downstairs and heard about Zheng ge’s livestream. Two laptops are not enough for all of us, so of course we had to get more!”

Emma sends a silent thank you to Danny who by now must be an expert on VPN installations. Speaking of which. 

“Danny, you there? Just sign up for a free 30-day trial account. And don’t forget to unsubscribe later.”

“I did.” Danny’s muffled voice sounds admirably calm, but there is definitely the subtlest note of misery in it. “Aunty Mimi’s granddaughter invited her neighbourhood friends to watch the stream, and we are out of accounts.”

“How! Many! Computers?!”  

Emma thinks she hears a suspicious clearing of the throat from Xiqiang that may or may not have been a laugh. Emma locks eyes with her in despair.

There is a tiny, tiny curl of Xiqiang’s lips as she casually remarks, “I am done with my e-mails for the day, and would like to relax with some form of entertainment. VooDooTM seems to have quite the selection of highly rated dramas like you advertised so eagerly to me earlier, and I have been told that there will be a promotional livestream this evening for the much-anticipated... The Fox?” There is definitely a sparkle in those almond eyes. “I thought it might interest you to know that I have decided to watch this livestream, and will do so on my newly purchased VIP account, the user details of which -” she slides over a SundollarsTM napkin covered in the prettiest handwriting Emma has ever had the good fortune to lay her bloodshot eyes on, “ - are written here.”

Emma stares at her with now goo-goo eyes. “Xiqiang! You are a literal angel!”  

“Xi-what? Who are you with?” Danny’s head pops into view next to Gramma’s gleeful face.  

“Danny! I’m hanging up! I’ll send you a new user account info you guys can use!” 

“What -” his calm façade is definitely slipping.

Emma does not hear the curious titters of “Xiqiang? Wah! What an intimidating name!” “Who would dare to name their son Xiqiang?”  “Must be very strong!” “Must be very shuai!” as she chirps in reply, “A professional exorcist, your saviour, and my new bf!”

A delicate clink of a white plate ladened with fresh chocolate chip muffins jerks Emma’s eyes up from her phone. “Oh, a snack for the stream? Xiqiang, did you order this? You shouldn’t have!”

Xiqiang leans forward to divide the muffins evenly. “It is fine.”

Danny chokes on the other line, “What what what -”

“Now don’t bother me anymore, Zheng ge’s livestream is going to start. Check your message! I’ll send you the info! See you later! Bye, Gramma! Bye, Aunties! Enjoy the stream! Zheng ge fighting!”

LuckyStar: [photo attached]

LuckyStar: Isn’t that THE prettiest handwriting you have ever seen?

LuckyStar: Oh, but if you can’t read it, the login name is YXQ_Gege  

LuckyStar: and password is LuckyStar123

LuckyStar: wow. what a sense of humour.

LuckyStar: Anyway! U seriously rock! Thanks Danny! I owe u my life!

LuckyStar: Aunty mimi makes seriously good cakes, so u might as well stay.  

LuckyStar: And remember, don’t tell mom!!!

BetterDanU: WHO IS XIQIANG AND WHY IS HIS PASSWORD UR USERNAME

The star cookie is decimated as Emma congratulates herself on a job well done against the schemes of the Universe. Her laptop screen is flooded with comments when John Zheng’s shy smile fades into view as the livestream finally, finally begins.  

“Gege!” Emma whisper-squeals. “You can’t hear me and you don’t know I exist! But! You will not believe the night I’ve just had! Your face heals my eyes and your heart heals my soul!” She silences her desperately buzzing phone.

Xiqiang breathes in deeply, and lets herself smile for the first time in a very long time. After an unusual evening of using the Skytrain for the first time, encountering a low-levelled spirit which the Council had not thought to Cleanse, meeting the most interesting Class Three medium who was currently hugging her backpack as she immersed herself in a long-awaited livestream of a clearly beloved celebrity who she had taken great pains to introduce Xiqiang to, and putting the tiniest dent in her bank account to sign up for a VooDooTM account for various reasons, Xiqiang relaxes in her chair, and does not let herself think about tomorrow.

Character Profiles

1. Emma Xing Qixin

Emma is derived from the Germanic word ermen meaning "whole" or "universal". Emma is also used as a diminutive of Emmeline, Amelia or any other name beginning with "em".

  星 (Xīng): star

运气 (Yùnqì): luck

欣 (Xīn): happy

Height: 154 cm; 5.05 ft | 159 cm (error; there is a story behind this)

Tools: Several reuseable shopping bags, backpack, blond cyborg keychain, laptop, secondhand phone, baby blue smiley starfish charm bought by her mom Estelle and customised further by her grandmother Emily

2. Xiqiang

希望 (Xīwàng): hope

强度 (Qiángdù): strength

For the sake of this story, “Xiqiang” is considered a very masculine name.

Height: 179 cm; 5.87 ft

Tools: Laptop, traditional calligraphy brush set, angled-tip pen set, normal ballpoint pen set

3. Estelle Xing  

Estelle is a female given name of Latin origin, and means star.

星 (Xīng): star

Yes, her name literally means Star Star.

Emma Xing’s mother. Has rather bad luck. She admits that, although her daughter can drive her up the wall, she is her greatest blessing and happiness.

4. Daniel Ng

Daniel is a masculine given name and a surname of Hebrew origin. It means "God is my judge".

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Ng (pronounced [ŋ̍]; English approximation often /ɪŋ/ or /ɛŋ/) is a Cantonese transliteration of the Chinese surnames 吳/吴 (Mandarin Wú) and 伍 (Mandarin Wǔ). Alternately, it is a common Hokkien transcription of the name 黃/黄 (Pe̍h-ōe-jī: N̂ɡ, Mandarin Huáng).

Emma Xing’s errand boy. And former classmate. The real MVP.

5. Emily Xing

Emily: "rival" or industrious and hardworking, comes from the Latin name Aemilia.

星 (Xīng): star

Emma Xing’s grandmother. Is more techno-savvy than her daughter/Emma’s mother Estelle Xing. Story behind that TBA.

6. Alicia  

Alicia means “of noble kind/sort/type” (from Germanic “adal” = noble + “heit” = kind/sort/type).

Emma Xing’s friend from secondary school. They have both narrowly passed Calculus exams together, which cannot be said for all their classmates.

7. John Zheng

The name John is a theophoric name originating from the Hebrew name יוֹחָנָן‎ (Yôḥānān), or in its longer form יְהוֹחָנָן‎ (Yəhôḥānān), meaning "YHWH has been gracious".

战争 (Zhànzhēng): war

Author is now too lazy to come up with a Chinese name, thank you very much.

Author’s Notes

Character profiles will not be written for every single character because ain’t nobody got time for that. They will be updated as the story progresses. If I have the discipline to actually write this dang story. \o/

This is just a test run. I have not truly touched creative writing in a very, very long time, and have sadly lost many different characters and plot bunnies over the years as I never had the will to just put pen to paper, or finger to keyboard. And neither have I ever tried tackling anything this ambitious, if you can call this ambitious. (Well, actually, I did make a pathetic attempt at a novel ten or so years ago, and reading THAT draft just made me cringe and shrivel up and die on the inside. Which will probably happen to this fic in ten years’ time? \o/ )  

Oh my gosh, I’m so tired of formatting this now. Please excuse any typos because I just. Cannot. 

If you somehow stumbled across this fic and read until the end, bless your heart, bless your eyes, and thank you for reading!

[hangingthongs]

Sanpa

Built by machines

Packed in a box

Imprisoned

Nowhere to go

By my side

There are thousands

Just like me

Contained in their own prison cell

But we all keep blindly ignorants

In a numb state of life

Waiting for someone else to show us the way

Why cant we look for the way?

I try to talk but no sound came off

No one can hear my inner screams

As they break through the stitches and cloth

The day comes

When we finally see a light

All this blind movements had us feeling dizzy

So now we wont even repare on the way they throw us away

They divide our unity, we can no longer treat each other the same way

Suddenly we look in fear that we wont be a part of the few selected as the wanted as the ones who look better than anyone else

Fears breaks us all, its no longer a country or a state its a battle for fame and fortune of the skin.

I realize its useless as time goes by, no scream, no shining publicity, no curves or color will make a diference, cause i remember we were once all the same no shame on who we became.

So i move, down to the old and dirty place where i thought i never belonged

There were more like me

Worse than me

But better than me

Cause they never backed down before an inconformity

They saw life as crystal clear as sea

Destiny was just the second stage you see?

With patience enjoying what was worth for me

But soon enough evrything seemed to move on circles, i cant take it anymore wothout a motivation

Until one day

I finally got what i claimed to be necessary in the beggining: a spark of attention

She showed up and laughed at me, looked disgusted

Aftee a few more rounds she would come again

Just looked at my price tag, see what i was worth

"Meh i can take it, i deny to pay more for this little0 worth"

I shouid get angry, but excitement for a new change could beat it in a second

I was picked up and taken to a new place

Amusement wouldn't fill it

Met a whole new world

New folks in all figures, sizes and colors

Some times they would dissappear for a while

Still they would return

But now a fraccion less of a smile on their face

Still i wouldnt ask

Tried getting busy all day

But she took me with her hand one day

Looked at me with hope

Grinned at me with a spice of lust

Ran me all the way through her legs

I never felt this before

All smooth

All beutiful

Wait what?!

Whats this bush in the middle of nowhere?!

I cant breath!

Auch its too sharp

What are this two logs hanging from me?

Why are there so many holes??

She looks in a mirror

"Well this must do"

[anachronisticanagram]

Log Infancy Thru HS

I want to keep a log of my thoughts but anonymous because I need to get this off my chest without actually telling anyone. I’ve been thinking about the food problems I had growing up and, these are the things that (while I personally am always invalidating the illness I suffered from) show that it really has been a real issue all my life. I know my parents will try to convince me I’m crazy like they usually do, but I need to keep a log somewhere other than my notes app so I know I’m not.

1. I had binge eating problems as a baby (eating 8 ounces of formula to compete with my brother when I should have only been eating 3 and therefore not being able to keep anything down because of overeating).

2. Formative years (just past infancy until middle school) I used to sneak candy and food out of the cupboards, but not in a very normal way. I was terrified someone would find me but I physically felt I couldn’t resist chocolate.

3. Ballet class-- thighs were bigger than all the other girls and I didnt understand why so I felt hideous in the leotard.

4. I was 7, my mom was watching daytime ads. For some reason my mom started telling me about how some people would put their fingers in their throat and purge. From that day (until I actually learned how at 14) I was obsessed with the idea and I wanted to learn so bad.

5. This is my first solid memory of When I was 7-10 my best friend and I used to “make” clothes together-- she had a tiny waist (I did too but she was longer waisted which I interpreted to be skinnier) I was too uncomfortable wearing things that showed my stomach. I told her (when I was 8) “I have a fat person’s body.” She looked me up and down and said “oh.” I didn’t really understand it at the time but all I wanted was for her to say that I wasn’t, and when she didn’t, I looked in the mirror and suddenly hated my body so much. I remember wishing all the time and praying that I could look like and be as skinny as her.

6. Dance studio, I was 11-- I loved Hell Week during shows because it meant I could avoid eating easier-- Maggie used to comment constantly on how “healthy” I was because all I would eat every day were Cliff Bars and celery because when I was at the pharmacy with my mother I saw a program on TV that said celery had negative calories so it would make you lose more weight. I ate like this for weeks on end. I would hide food in my socks to avoid eating it, slip it up my long sleeve shirts/jackets, hide it in pockets. Talk a lot so that I could avoid eating until everyone left the dinner table so I could hide it.

7. Throughout my whole life, my mother has made comments about my weight. Jokingly calling me a pig hurt a lot more than she realized but she still does it (even after knowing I had a problem.) Comparing me to my aunt saying that I ate like her (a 300-400lb old woman), telling me I took after the women in my dad’s side of the family so I needed to watch my weight more carefully than most people. Recently even telling me when I got back from school that I looked so much better with the weight lost (which I lost because I pretended to need to keep my video on for class so I could throw the food away she brought into my room instead of eating with the family. Completely forgot I did that until now.) “Your limbs were starting to look like stuffed sausages in your clothes.” That one is stupid but still makes me want to cry, I’ve always had overly strong feelings to things my mother says and her opinions about me.

8. “As they grow older, girls eat less and less and boys eat more and more.” My mother also said things like this a lot, bragging about how in middle school she went on a 200 calorie diet over summer of only mustard and pickles on tortillas and lost all the weight she had gained. Constantly commenting on how her weight is, how fat she is (when she weighed less than me.) Saying how her mom kept her figure looking good by barely eating anything during the week so that she could eat a bowl of ice cream every friday night.

9. I was obsessed (age 7-12) America’s Next Top Model only because of how their bodies looked. Only ever liked the skinniest ones and thought the ones who actually had more than just bones and skin were fat.

10. When I was 14 was when everything exploded. I had already made habits of hiding food for years but now I joined pro-ana mia sites online. I had a calorie counting journal, three different food diaries, and I was constantly weighing myself. Everyone except my dad was leaving town for a few weeks, and I was ecstatic. I could not eat without anyone noticing. Got into a habit of leaving dishes everywhere with traces of food on them (if my family ever sees this, that’s why for so many years I left un-rinsed dishes everywhere (that and ADD lol)). My dad left for coffee and when he was gone I purged for the first time. This led to months of binging and purging where I would “practice singing” in the garage. I couldn’t just throw the barf bags in the trash so I found an old dresser of mine and filled the whole thing up with the bags (awful i know but I never got caught.) When my parents read my texts and found out, I was so ashamed. They shamed me for it instead of trying to help me and acted like I did it all for attention (which, I think I would have actually TOLD someone if that was the case. I was throwing up my stomach lining and still wouldnt tell anyone.) I wasnt allowed to be alone after that and to this day cant have my door closed. It was genuinely one of the most awful years of my life.

11. When I was 15 I got down to 117.5 lbs which was the lowest I ever actually recorded. I didn’t eat for a full two weeks and passed out on a bench my first time at Disneyland. To this day everyone thinks I just fell asleep. Oddly enough the lowest weight I got to  (after not eating during the Disney day) was 125.4 (odd because now I’m a few inches taller, 5 years older, and weigh closer to 120 without much issue) and I was so proud of that I started eating again (binging). Guessing it was so difficult because I was still growing.

12. At this point I started having what I call “the cycle.” Every month I’d go back and forth from eating everything to eating nothing at all and I never really saw an issue with it. I thought i was being healthy when I wasn’t eating but I never really noticed it past 16 because I thought it was normal. At 17 when I had my first bf I ate more normally because we would go out all the time. But my mentality was still not healthy.

13. 17, during the summer I gained about 15 pounds (barely obvious i see now but it felt like a lot.) I drank two sodas every day and ate three big bowls of buttered popcorn or nachos every single day and didn’t get off the couch all summer watching TV. I was super depressed bc my parents reaction to my first real crush was on a girl at school.

14. End of high school, I considered myself a recoveree-- didn’t think about my weight much but I was eating 3 meals a day and snacking in between all meals. Again. the monthly cycle of binging to suddenly being paranoid about my weight continued. There’s more past high school but this is just the general summary of specific moments that I remember growing up that affected me.

I think all of this is proof of why I have a heart condition now.

[sscottstewart]

7.37am 26 July 2017: “You’re drugs have fucked up your attention to detail” This is a typical statement made by my AVH’s. This may well be true, or may not be, but what I get out of it is that this is just more criticism. 02nd August 2017 2039: ?FM: is anyone getting hurt s: no, not as far as I know FM?: why is this happening s: because for once, and probably the first time, I would not do as you demand PW: you think we don’t exist don’t you s: yes, I think you don’t exist PW: You will find out that we do S: well won’t that

  At approximately 3am on the 13th Sept 2016, Pam was being raped and assaulted, so I drove there at approx 100km per hour in each street and sat out front of her house. Immediately as I turned the engine off, 3 cars arrived.

One pulled into a driveway 35m down the street the house number was 121 or 123 pam’s street (for some reason my note said TA 121/123). I know this because it sat in the driveway for a while, and after I sat for about an hour or an hour and a half, I drove down to get its rego, and it had gone in/up the driveway behind fence gates and parked, so I couldn’t get the rego. I think it was a morone red Corolla hatch.

The car that arrived immediately as I turned my engine off was a white Hyundia hatch/wagon BX66PD. The third car went 120m dfown the street and I couldn’t see it properly

17th August 2018 0057 hours Entered the Muriel St car park of Hornsby Westfield, and there were two vehicles parked in the southern bays opposite Extreme clean. One was a large SUV type white station wagon CHR047, possibly Nissan or Toyota, the other I didn’t see properly, other than it being a two door sporty looking car, white also I think (but am unsure). My suspicion was aroused because they both left the parking bays and exited onto Muriel street as I was collecting my ticket from the machine to enter the car park (going to Hobbysew to collect cigarette buts). The larger white SUV looked similar to a car that boxed me in last Sunday 12th when I was visiting the adult shop to return 2 DVD’s as I stated I was going to (to try and get a result). The driver looked similar as well. Tall in thwe seat, very short balding hair, clean chaven, around 47 – 50 years old.

I have no problem with this if this is the bikies, and caused no problem the previous Sunday. But if I am supposed to behave in a requisite manner, thenI would wish that they don’t leave butt flag me down and say what I am supposed to comply with, or whatever purpose they have in being ahead of me and knowing where and when I will arrive at any particular location.

      from:

Scott Stewart <sscottstewart@gmail.com> to: hillsdistrict@bandidosmc.com.au, Alexandra Tintner <atintner@ombo.nsw.gov.au>, nswombo@ombo.nsw.gov.au, communications@justice.nsw.gov.au date: 19 Jun 2019, 01:46 subject: Times Up – Future Violence In Normanhurst mailed-by: gmail.com

Righty right Boys.

It’s me again – Scott James Stewart – serial number 008, maturbator and schizophrenic.

I’m fucking sick of hearing about you in my mind (through you associate I am led to believe)

IF YOU DON’T SHOW UP AND FUCKING FIGHT,   i’M GOING TO DESTROY YOUR REPUTATION, AND HOPEFULLY SOME OF YOUR FRIENDS.

Unit 5

29 Denman Parade,

Normanhurst, nsw, 2076

Or you can just reply to this email, or better still, if you have any balls at all, call me on

(02) 9989 8752. But you fucking wont, on the basis of some junkie like excuse.

If you attempt to get me sectioned, I will call the cops, and a few others, and exploit a weakness I have discovered in your organisation. Please check the addresses at the header of this email.

  https://freemason-absolute-leader-declared.webnode.com/ 

http://be-careful-what-you-wish-for.strikingly.com 

Gutless Ghost loving Freemason Cuntrs.

250719 0842

All fm?  On the train going to tafe founfation skills workshop after peoole going on down the rear units and david recording me from outside my door

Scott did u log out No Well what r u goong to do about yr venterlinm paymemts Theres notng i can do Ur wrong I disagree How long will it take to prpve yr right I already jave que a bit of wvidemve to prove im right What do u think of farah I think so highly of her, that i believe yr earlier claims. Out of this world nice What should i do abouf julia Mot what u said u r doing to me. Ask the bandidos. U just lost. M  u did S: well at least ots not for the earleir behaiour error  made Actually  it is Well whata that got to do h farah? J:   Im not daying anymore S: ok . Bet u do Fm: what is going on scott is that garah will mot talk to u anymore S shame Fm: what dou think of that S there can only b 2 reasona for that M: theyr right S > i couldnt hear them? Fm: did u take drugs this morning S unfortunately  yes, i did GMA : wjat do u think about drugs S they destroy lives Fm: female scotty stewart. What did mark kelly think S  i have no idea. (They do!!) Fm: what do u think farah thinks I wouldnt have a clue (they do!!!) Scott – why wont anybody tell i the truth Becaise they camt know id whateber its is the truth. They camt know if its a lie…. wwhatever u r refering to 0906 M: what will happen to farah S   she wiil get eaten M  she already has —– ? Class cleague: do u like me? S i like everyone ? Cc   u wont

ReplyForward

hillsdistrict@bandidosmc.com.au bcc:melbourne@bandidosmc.com.au, sydney@bandidosmc.com.au, brisbane@bandidosmc.com.au date:3 January 2018 at 21:38

A Humble Request From A Challenged Person

mailed-by:gmail.com

Good evening,

Sorry to bother you. My name is Scott James Stewart, and I you will recall my apologies for contacting previously. As you will recall from some of those emails, I am schizophrenic, and astoundingly, your club has become involved the maintenance of my continued good health .

I have developed a very effective psychosocial treatment of my phenomenological symptoms, that provides me with great relief. It involves quotations (what I call 1st person transcripts), of the Auditory Verbal Hallucinations (AVH’s) I experience irregulalrly, that are a common feature of the condition.

It really is the most amazing thing. All I have to do in order to maintain my good health is when the voices start talking (as they do occasionally) is undertake to write down the time and date, and as much of the exact first person quotations of what I hear as is comfortable, and things improve.

Inexplicably to me, they consistently include your clubs name, and allege to be some of your members who are also Freemasons.

I thought that since I publish this material, it would be ethical, to inform you of the work so that you may respond to the statements and request omissions if you choose.

https://evidenceortruth.wordpress.com/

amazingschizophreniavoices10.wordpress.com

(I am in the process of organising investigative health research in collaboration with Sydney University (Francesca Coniglio) and The Palmerston Clinic (Hornsby Hospital – BGr Dinah Bennet), and will soon be expanding the knowledge of this efficacious treatment approach to other individuals who are subject to AVH’s).

Regards,

Scott”

********************************************************************************************************************************

5) I discovered the hacking of one of the blogs within two hours and so deactivated both before they would have read them, so they also received inactive links as you did.

6) I wrote an brief introduction of my full name name and an ezpression of respect on the Rebels MC 1% Motorcylist Facebook page: (https://www.facebook.com/onepercenterbikers/)

******************************************************************************

(13:56)

My name is Scott James Stewart. I spent at least 13 minutes trying to find a less public way of introducing myself, and I apologise, but this was my result. I am a respectful, and honest individual, who may or may not come to your attention, perhaps again, nd congruent with my integrity efforts, I wanted to introduce myself to your esteemed club (despite the fact that the Police I talk to recommend that I should not do so). Having said this, I offer my introduction to you with special recognition of your affinity with those men whose PTSD you effectively treat through your strong and reliable friendship. Great men in my opinion. Should we ever meet or talk by chance or fate one day, I would be pleased to be able to immediately state, that I introduced myself to you on the 17 January 2018 on a Facebook page (though in gossipy world, others might say 16 January 2018 at approximately 7.30pm. No matter. My respect never changes).

**********************************************************************************************************

6) I have over the past year quite a few hacks on several duplicate blogs publishing the same Auditory Hallucinations statements. I did not even expect anyone would read them. I am compiling some substantiated evidence to facilitate an authoreatitive investigation that can indisputably attribute causality. I should disclose that I have unreliable suspicions of individuals, so maybe that might correlate with anything you discover if you have time to look into any of this. I am not requesting that you do. I am not scared, despite the reputation of the organisations involved. So thank you.

7) I plan to repeat this process of publishing two comparable blogs in the future, but the date of which I am ‘playing by ear’.

8) I need to also add (surprisingly) that my original crime stoppers report was to attempt to get your available resources if possible directed towards the mysterious and carefully checked disappearance of another individual who is featured in the blogs more than anyone. His name is Ron (Ronald) Thiessen, and he deserves the right to oversee the published material,  but he is definately missing, he is famous and I have contacted his famous friends, and volunteer clubs etc, and the material in the blog leads me to  serious concern for his safety because what is in the blog  is damming and defamatory in my opinion. I have talked to your counter staff about him being missing, and read your website, but I cannot meet your seven pieces of documentation necessary to establish a formal missing person report. I can provide you with a document detailing the steps I have taken to locate him, if you are able to look into this. The most important and salient fact of this matter, is his membership of Freemasonry, which coincidentally is what links the two outlaw motorcycle clubs to the blogs, in addition to the members named, and the serious allegations made by my hallucinations against them.

My home phone is 9989 8752

My mobile (which I think has also been hacked) isa currently 0403 996 187 (probably change v. soon – I’ll let you know)

My address is

Gunyah

Unit 5

29 Denman Parade

Normanhurst, 2076.

Thank Gods for the cops

The Police Know 7.37am 26 July 2017: “You’re drugs have fucked up your attention to detail” This is a typical statement made by my AVH’s.

[viceslovevirtues]

TW/ SELF HARM. IM GOOD IM JUST YELLING. // last thing real quick and then im gonna go to bed.

i dont understand neurotypical people who dont understand but think they do. i hate a “oh you tried to kill yourself? that sucks, one time i was really sad so i get it” ass bitch. maybe this is an unpopular opinion but i hate when someone who self harms one time for whatever reason with their one thin ass cut, will tell the story to anyone.“never again *teary eyes*” i dont get it. “oh yeah that one little perfectly straight line that i keep pointing out and saying is a cat scratch with sad sad eyes? the one on my wrist that pokes out of my flannel. do you see it? do you know what it is? let me drift it in front of you like a newly engaged person flaunts their ring. do you feel bad? take pitty? spare a little sympathy? 

“i self harmed once. i didnt like it.” i know. you tell me everytime i relapse. i get it. im a piece of shit. what kind of person hurts themself? why?i remember hearing teachers reference kids who would constantly wear black hoodies or oversized sweatshirts and worrying about if they were maybe *cutters* and immediately recoiling. i may have spoken to that teacher about that subject later but i also may have dreamed that redemption.

“why do you do that? why do you do that to yourself?” i have this deep hatred of myself and a fear of cessation and a need to make an impact on people. that might sound weird all together, let me try again. it started as a punishment. for myself from myself. people would say dumb shit and i thought that i deserved it so i would hurt myself. then it became cathartic. lotta stress? bleed a lil, let some out, good as new in just a few scratches. when i started to disassociate frequently, self harm via hitting myself/walls, pulling my own hair, scratching and digging my nails in til i bleed, etc was the only way for me to know that i was a real person. that i was tangible. that i wasnt playing a shitty fp video game, that i wasnt made of static or fucking floating. that there was feeling in my hands and my thighs and my scalp. at some point in there, it felt good. i cant say it didnt because it did. i didnt talk about it. i didnt keep a log or track how long i was self harm free. anyone would find out and they would freak out and i wouldnt understand and i still dont. this is just a part of the way that my body processes things. YES I KNOW THIS IS A SHITTY COPING SKILL AND A SHITTY REASON. i would like to say ‘however’ but there really isnt an excuse. i self harm. it hurts the people around me and i dont understand why. its a passive part of me.

its not like im attempting, im just trying to feel something.

(((i think thats why i get so heated when i here neurotypicals talk about self harm in an active way, especially because its not something to be proud of. its a guilty pleasure. a secret shame.)))

[viralhottopics]

When Heroin Almost Took My Life, My Phone Saved It

At the end, there were only two things I cared about: the bag of heroin on my glass-topped coffee table, and the cell phone next to it. They were my two life lines. After a decade of abusing opiates, I couldnt stop using heroin. I was psychologically, physically, and emotionally dependent on it. My phone, too, was an absolute necessity. It linked me to my network which Id started building since I worked in the White House as a young, ambitious staffer. On the last day of my drug use, I stared down at the table. To my left, the baggie. To my right, the phone.

At the time, I had no idea that one of those two things would save me from the other. Now, my phone and, more specifically, its social media capabilities are an intrinsic part of my new life in recovery. Its been more than two years since I got the call on my cell, telling me there was a bed available at a public detox. I took that call, and the chance to get sober. While I was in rehab, I communicated with my family and friends. I started connecting with other people in recovery online, through Facebook and Twitter. Through social media and articles I read, I learned that addiction is a chronic brain illness. Online, people were speaking up about their experience, breaking the silence of addiction. Id found my tribe and it fit in my back pocket, or right in the palm of my hand.

Being placed on waiting lists, knowing that my window of willingness to keep fighting for help was waning by the hour, were some of the most terrifying moments in my entire life.

My phone is how I found out my friends were dying of the health problem that I had. Early in my recovery, I lost four people who were very close to me, all within 3 months. One, Nick, was an aspiring actor. He was found in his room and had died hours earlier from a fatal overdose. Another friend, Greg, died just a few short weeks after. I will never forget getting those messages, or how I realized, days later, that my friends were only four out of hundreds of people who die every day from addiction-related issues. It seemed that, everywhere I turned, someone had lost a son, a daughter, a friend, or a mother or father. Addiction, I realized, was lethal. And staying silent was our death sentence.

Ryan and Greg in April 2015. Greg died a few months after this picture was taken.

Sitting on my bed in the Pasadena sober living home where Id finally landed, I looked down at the phone in my hand. Statistics swirled in my head. Addiction affects 1 in 3 people in the United States. Only 10% of people with addiction actually got treatment for their disease. The wait time for access to public facilities typically exceeds 30 days. I myself had frantically called multiple treatment centers, only to be told that beds werent available, and likely wouldnt be for multiple weeks. Being placed on waiting lists, knowing that my window of willingness to keep fighting for help was waning by the hour, were some of the most terrifying moments in my entire life. I knew that untreated addiction was lethal. And yet, 23 million people in the United States live in long-term recovery. People made it but how to make that attainable for more people?

On the evening of October 4, 2015, I opened my Facebook app. And there, in my hands, was the livestream video that changed my life forever: the UNITE to Face Addiction rally on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. It sounds like a small thing, but watching that concert, which was attended by tens of thousands of people in recovery and included performances by sober artists that I grew up listening to on the radio, changed my perception of what was possible. That was my community my people. And they were standing up for what they believed in. They werent hiding and they werent ashamed. That was the day that I stopped being a social media bystander and got involved. Id found my purpose and once again, it was right under my nose.

The day I realized what could be: October 4, 2015. UNITE to Face Addiction.

I had a mission: to lift-up voices of people in recovery, and share the vital stories of our community.

The idea that social media can create massive cultural change isnt a new one. Because social media allows people to communicate freely and share information, it enables the creation of like-minded groups. If these groups are big enough, or driven enough, they have the potential to positively influence and shape cultural progress. Recent examples of this include the Green Revolution in Iran, Arab Spring, the Occupy movement, and #BlackLivesMatter protests. And, of course, the new grassroots movement to end the stigma of addiction. Our community, once marginalized and shamed into silence, had found a way to make its voice heard and it was loud. Feeling inspired, I logged on to Facebook messenger and found Tom Coderre, a recovery advocacy change-maker and friend of Facing Addiction, the movement whose work I admired. He immediately put me in touch with co-foundersGreg Williamsand Jim Hood and I was on my way. I had no idea where I was going, or how I would get there, but I was going. I had a mission: to lift-up voices of people in recovery, and share the vital stories of our community.

Soon, I was on the road, heading to Philadelphia for the Democratic National Convention. Hey, Id done crazier things now, I was doing them in recovery, and for a good cause. We coined the project Addiction Across America and partnered with Facing Addiction. We were driving 3,000 miles east to speak at the convention and advocate for addiction solutions. It was a 30-day road trip through the heartland of America communities hit hardest by the addiction crisis. I had nothing but $20, my phone, and a $100 Google Stream notebook when I came up with the idea. But I also had a road map from the people whod taken this journey of advocacy before me, and the stories kept coming. I published some of these stories in a digital web series. That was the beginning of what is now called the Voices Project.

It was also the beginning of my recovery advocacy. After the convention, and the 2016 election, I realized the tremendous influence that social media could have on how people talked, thought, acted, and even voted. I saw a way for us to transform the recovery movement into a campaign one so big that it couldnt be ignored or silenced. So I started a Facebook page, then added Twitterand Instagram. Up front, I decided these accounts would never be about me. The point was always to raise up the voices of others. The pages began to grow. People from all over the world found me. 5,000 followers turned into 50,000. Now, that number is over 200,000 people, combined across all three platforms. But its never been about the numbers. Each one of those followers has a face, a heartbeat. They are real to me. Theyre people. Theyre a mom in Connecticut who lost her child; an incarcerated recovering heroin addict in Richmond whos a peer leader in his cell, helping others find recovery; a brave young man in Los Angeles who would come out as a person in recovery and tell his inspiring story for the first time.

Before the Voices Project, I never thought of myself as a storyteller. But I guess its who I am and today, Im okay with that. Im a storyteller with a purpose. I didnt set out to become an advocate. I had no idea that my recovery would take me in this direction, but like so many others across this country, once I became aware of this crisis, I couldnt ignore what I saw. The injustice, prejudice, and epidemic loss of life have me mad as hell. Every day, more lives are lost; another unfair, discriminatory policy is written. So much depends on telling our stories. I cant stop. I wont. And while I dont often know what to say, I do know what to do today.

And thats where you come in. The Voices Project proves that together we can help end the addiction crisis. We can do the work that we could never accomplish alone. Together, well end the silence and show this country that we are one of the largest constituencies ever to exist. We can inspire change, save lives, heal our communities, and build a digital movement like nobodys ever seen before. This is the #VoicesProject.

Our time is now. Lets go make some history.

Ryan Hampton is an outreach lead and recovery advocate at Facing Addiction, a leading nonprofit dedicated to ending the addiction crisis in the United States. Join the Voices Project.

Read more: http://huff.to/2nUveZt

from When Heroin Almost Took My Life, My Phone Saved It

[mavwrekmarketing]

At the end, there were only two things I cared about: the bag of heroin on my glass-topped coffee table, and the cell phone next to it. They were my two life lines. After a decade of abusing opiates, I couldnt stop using heroin. I was psychologically, physically, and emotionally dependent on it. My phone, too, was an absolute necessity. It linked me to my network which Id started building since I worked in the White House as a young, ambitious staffer. On the last day of my drug use, I stared down at the table. To my left, the baggie. To my right, the phone.

At the time, I had no idea that one of those two things would save me from the other. Now, my phone and, more specifically, its social media capabilities are an intrinsic part of my new life in recovery. Its been more than two years since I got the call on my cell, telling me there was a bed available at a public detox. I took that call, and the chance to get sober. While I was in rehab, I communicated with my family and friends. I started connecting with other people in recovery online, through Facebook and Twitter. Through social media and articles I read, I learned that addiction is a chronic brain illness. Online, people were speaking up about their experience, breaking the silence of addiction. Id found my tribe and it fit in my back pocket, or right in the palm of my hand.

Being placed on waiting lists, knowing that my window of willingness to keep fighting for help was waning by the hour, were some of the most terrifying moments in my entire life.

My phone is how I found out my friends were dying of the health problem that I had. Early in my recovery, I lost four people who were very close to me, all within 3 months. One, Nick, was an aspiring actor. He was found in his room and had died hours earlier from a fatal overdose. Another friend, Greg, died just a few short weeks after. I will never forget getting those messages, or how I realized, days later, that my friends were only four out of hundreds of people who die every day from addiction-related issues. It seemed that, everywhere I turned, someone had lost a son, a daughter, a friend, or a mother or father. Addiction, I realized, was lethal. And staying silent was our death sentence.

Ryan and Greg in April 2015. Greg died a few months after this picture was taken.

Sitting on my bed in the Pasadena sober living home where Id finally landed, I looked down at the phone in my hand. Statistics swirled in my head. Addiction affects 1 in 3 people in the United States. Only 10% of people with addiction actually got treatment for their disease. The wait time for access to public facilities typically exceeds 30 days. I myself had frantically called multiple treatment centers, only to be told that beds werent available, and likely wouldnt be for multiple weeks. Being placed on waiting lists, knowing that my window of willingness to keep fighting for help was waning by the hour, were some of the most terrifying moments in my entire life. I knew that untreated addiction was lethal. And yet, 23 million people in the United States live in long-term recovery. People made it but how to make that attainable for more people?

On the evening of October 4, 2015, I opened my Facebook app. And there, in my hands, was the livestream video that changed my life forever: the UNITE to Face Addiction rally on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. It sounds like a small thing, but watching that concert, which was attended by tens of thousands of people in recovery and included performances by sober artists that I grew up listening to on the radio, changed my perception of what was possible. That was my community my people. And they were standing up for what they believed in. They werent hiding and they werent ashamed. That was the day that I stopped being a social media bystander and got involved. Id found my purpose and once again, it was right under my nose.

The day I realized what could be: October 4, 2015. UNITE to Face Addiction.

I had a mission: to lift-up voices of people in recovery, and share the vital stories of our community.

The idea that social media can create massive cultural change isnt a new one. Because social media allows people to communicate freely and share information, it enables the creation of like-minded groups. If these groups are big enough, or driven enough, they have the potential to positively influence and shape cultural progress. Recent examples of this include the Green Revolution in Iran, Arab Spring, the Occupy movement, and #BlackLivesMatter protests. And, of course, the new grassroots movement to end the stigma of addiction. Our community, once marginalized and shamed into silence, had found a way to make its voice heard and it was loud. Feeling inspired, I logged on to Facebook messenger and found Tom Coderre, a recovery advocacy change-maker and friend of Facing Addiction, the movement whose work I admired. He immediately put me in touch with co-foundersGreg Williamsand Jim Hood and I was on my way. I had no idea where I was going, or how I would get there, but I was going. I had a mission: to lift-up voices of people in recovery, and share the vital stories of our community.

Soon, I was on the road, heading to Philadelphia for the Democratic National Convention. Hey, Id done crazier things now, I was doing them in recovery, and for a good cause. We coined the project Addiction Across America and partnered with Facing Addiction. We were driving 3,000 miles east to speak at the convention and advocate for addiction solutions. It was a 30-day road trip through the heartland of America communities hit hardest by the addiction crisis. I had nothing but $20, my phone, and a $100 Google Stream notebook when I came up with the idea. But I also had a road map from the people whod taken this journey of advocacy before me, and the stories kept coming. I published some of these stories in a digital web series. That was the beginning of what is now called the Voices Project.

It was also the beginning of my recovery advocacy. After the convention, and the 2016 election, I realized the tremendous influence that social media could have on how people talked, thought, acted, and even voted. I saw a way for us to transform the recovery movement into a campaign one so big that it couldnt be ignored or silenced. So I started a Facebook page, then added Twitterand Instagram. Up front, I decided these accounts would never be about me. The point was always to raise up the voices of others. The pages began to grow. People from all over the world found me. 5,000 followers turned into 50,000. Now, that number is over 200,000 people, combined across all three platforms. But its never been about the numbers. Each one of those followers has a face, a heartbeat. They are real to me. Theyre people. Theyre a mom in Connecticut who lost her child; an incarcerated recovering heroin addict in Richmond whos a peer leader in his cell, helping others find recovery; a brave young man in Los Angeles who would come out as a person in recovery and tell his inspiring story for the first time.

Before the Voices Project, I never thought of myself as a storyteller. But I guess its who I am and today, Im okay with that. Im a storyteller with a purpose. I didnt set out to become an advocate. I had no idea that my recovery would take me in this direction, but like so many others across this country, once I became aware of this crisis, I couldnt ignore what I saw. The injustice, prejudice, and epidemic loss of life have me mad as hell. Every day, more lives are lost; another unfair, discriminatory policy is written. So much depends on telling our stories. I cant stop. I wont. And while I dont often know what to say, I do know what to do today.

And thats where you come in. The Voices Project proves that together we can help end the addiction crisis. We can do the work that we could never accomplish alone. Together, well end the silence and show this country that we are one of the largest constituencies ever to exist. We can inspire change, save lives, heal our communities, and build a digital movement like nobodys ever seen before. This is the #VoicesProject.

Our time is now. Lets go make some history.

Ryan Hampton is an outreach lead and recovery advocate at Facing Addiction, a leading nonprofit dedicated to ending the addiction crisis in the United States. Join the Voices Project.

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