Cna programs pell grant

If I qualify for Pell grant and amazon career choice can. I have amazon pay the school and pocket the Pell grant? I don’t want to tell financial aid about it and them take away the Pell grant because that’s more money.

The profusion of identical green tents at this spring’s anti-Israel protests struck many as odd. “Why is everybody’s tent the same?,” asked New York mayor Eric Adams. Like others, the mayor suspected “a well-concerted organizing effort” driving the protests. More recent reporting shows a concerted push behind the Gaza protest movement. But it is not as simple as a single organization secretly rallying protesters or buying tents. Instead, the movement’s most determined activists represent a network of loosely linked far-left groups. Some are openly affiliated with well-known progressive nonprofits; others work in the shadows.
The movement also draws on diverse but generous sources of financial backing. Those funding streams may soon be augmented by the federal government. As I chronicled last year in a Manhattan Institute report, “The Big Squeeze: How Biden’s Environmental Justice Agenda Hurts the Economy and the Environment,” the administration’s massive program of environmental justice grants seems designed to prioritize the funding of highly ideological local groups. The Inflation Reduction Act, for example, earmarks $3 billion for “environmental and climate justice block grants” intended for local nonprofits. Today, hundreds of far-left political groups include language about environmental issues and “climate justice” in their mission statements. If just a fraction of planned grants flows to such groups, the effect will be a gusher of new funding for radical causes.
As the Gaza protests spread across U.S. college campuses, many observers noted an eerie uniformity among them. From one campus to the next, protesters operated in disciplined cadres, keeping their faces covered and using identical rote phrases as they refused to talk with reporters. The Atlantic noted the strangeness of seeing elite college students “chanting like automatons.” Students held up keffiyeh scarves or umbrellas to block the view of prying cameras and linked arms to halt the movements of outsiders. At Columbia University and elsewhere, protesters formed “liberated zones,” from which “Zionists” were excluded. Around the edges of the encampments, the more militaristic activists donned helmets and goggles and carried crude weapons, apparently eager to mix it up with police or counter-protesters. We’ve seen these tactics before—notably during the “mostly peaceful” Black Lives Matter protests of 2020, when full-time agitators helped ignite riots, set up a police-free (and violence-plagued) zone in Seattle, and laid nightly siege to Portland, Oregon’s federal courthouse.
In a remarkable work of reporting, Park MacDougald recently traced the tangled roots of organizations backing pro-jihad protests, both on and off campuses. These include Antifa and other networks of anonymous anarchists, along with “various communist and Marxist-Leninist groups, including the Maoist Revolutionary Communist Party, the Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL), and the International ANSWER coalition,” MacDougald writes. Higher up the food chain, we find groups openly supported by America’s growing class of super-rich tech execs or the anti-capitalist heirs of great fortunes. For example, retired tech mogul Neville Roy Singham, who is married to Code Pink founder Jodie Evans, funds The People’s Forum, a lavish Manhattan resource center for far-left groups. As the Columbia protests intensified, the center urged members to head uptown to “support our students.” Following the money trail of other protest groups, MacDougald finds connections to the Rockefeller Brothers Fund, the Ford Foundation, and—surprising no one—the George Soros-backed Tides Foundation.
Of course, the current wave of anti-Israel protests also involves alliances with pro-Hamas organizations such as Students for Justice in Palestine. Last November, Jonathan Schanzer of the Foundation for Defense of Democracies testified to the House Ways and Means Committee that SJP and similar groups have deep ties to global terrorist organizations, including Hamas.
For many keffiyeh-wearing protestors, however, a recently professed concern for Palestinians is just the latest in a long list of causes they believe justify taking over streets and college quads. In Unherd, Mary Harrington dubs this medley of political beliefs the “omnicause,” writing that “all contemporary radical causes seem somehow to have been absorbed into one.” Today’s leftist activists share an interlocking worldview that sees racism, income inequality, trans intolerance, climate change, alleged police violence, and Israeli-Palestinian conflicts all as products of capitalism and “colonialism.” Therefore, the stated rationale for any individual protest is a stand-in for the real battle: attacking Western society and its institutions.
In the U.S., this type of general-purpose uprising goes back at least to the riots at the 1999 meeting of the World Trade Organization in Seattle. In those protests, mainstream liberal factions—including labor unions and environmentalists—were joined by “black bloc” anarchists and other radicals eager to engage in “direct action” against police. That pattern—relatively moderate demonstrators providing a friendly envelope for hard-core disruptors—formed the template for many later protests: the Occupy Wall Street encampments in 2011, demonstrations following the police shooting of Michael Brown in 2014, 2016’s Standing Rock anti-pipeline movement, and of course, the calamitous summer of 2020.
These uprisings were not entirely spontaneous. In some cases, activists spend months planning mass actions—for example, against economic summits or political conventions—and can recruit street fighters from across the country. In others, an event, such as George Floyd’s death, sparks popular protests involving neophyte demonstrators. Those attract far-left activists, who swoop in to organize and expand the struggle, often tilting it toward more radical action.
That has certainly been the case at the college Gaza-paloozas. At Columbia, the New York Times spotted a woman old enough to be a student’s grandmother in the thick of the action as protesters barricaded that school’s Hamilton Hall. The woman was 63-year-old Lisa Fithian, a lifetime activist, who Portland’s alternative weekly Street Roots approvingly calls “a trainer of mass rebellion.” A counter-protester trying to block the pro-Hamas demonstrators told NBC News, “She was right in the middle of it, instructing them how to better set up the barriers.” Fithian told the Times she’d been invited to train students in protest safety and “general logistics.” She claims to have taken part in almost every major U.S. protest movement going back to the 1999 “Battle in Seattle.”
America’s radical network has plenty of Lisa Fithians, with the time and resources to travel the country educating newcomers about the “logistics” of disruptive protests. And these activists appear to have played key roles in the college occupations. The New York City Police Department says nearly half the demonstrators arrested on the Columbia and City University of New York (CUNY) campuses on April 30 were not affiliated with the schools. One hooded Hamilton Hall occupier—photographed scuffling with a Columbia custodian before getting arrested—turned out to be 40-year-old James Carlson, heir to a large advertising fortune. According to the New York Post, Carlson lives in a $2.3 million Park Slope townhouse and has a long rap sheet. For example, in 2005, he was arrested in San Francisco during the violent “West Coast Anti-Capitalist Mobilization and March Against the G8.” (Those charges were dropped.)
For a quarter-century now, Antifa and other anarchist networks have worked to refine tactics and share lessons following each major action. At Columbia, UCLA, and other schools, authorities found printouts of a “Do-It Yourself Occupation Guide” and similar documents. The young campus radicals are eager to learn from their more experienced elders. And, like the high-achieving students they are, they follow directions carefully. MacDougald asked Kyle Shideler, the director for homeland security and counterterrorism at the Center for Security Policy, about the mystery of the identical tents. There was no need for a central group to distribute hundreds of tents, Shideler said. Instead, “the organizers told [students] to buy a tent, and sent around a Google Doc with a link to that specific tent on Amazon. So they all went out and bought the same tent.”
In other words, America’s radical class has gotten very skilled at recruiting and instructing new activists—even from among the ranks of elite college students with a good deal to lose. How much more could this movement accomplish with hundreds of millions in federal dollars flooding activist groups around the country?
From its first week in office, the Biden administration has trumpeted its goal to funnel more environmental spending toward “disadvantaged communities that have been historically marginalized,” partly by issuing grants to grassroots organizations. Previous environmental justice (EJ) grant programs were small in scope. But, with the passage of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) in August 2022, a huge pool of grant money became available. EPA administrator Michael Regan told reporters, “We’re going from tens of thousands of dollars to developing and designing a program that will distribute billions.”
More than a year and a half later, it remains hard to nail down just where the Biden administration’s billions in EJ grants will wind up. Money is being distributed through a confusing variety of programs, and the process of identifying recipients is ongoing. To help outsource the job of sifting through proposals, the EPA last year designated 11 institutions as “Environmental Justice Thriving Communities Grantmakers.” These groups are empowered to make subgrants directly to community organizations, under streamlined EPA oversight. In all, the Biden administration has entrusted these outfits with distributing a staggering $600 million in funding. The money is expected to start flowing this summer.
The EPA’s grantmakers include a number of educational institutions and left-leaning nonprofits. For example, the EPA chose Fordham University as its lead grantmaker in the New York region. Fordham, in turn, lists as partners two nonprofits that oppose immigration enforcement. (One, the New Jersey Alliance for Immigrant Justice, states on its website: “NJAIJ believes in the human right to migrate, regardless of citizenship or political status.”) Neither group claims expertise in environmental issues. Given that the IRA’s eligibility requirements for EJ grants are extremely vague, however, perhaps that’s not a problem. Almost any activity that could help “spur economic opportunity for disadvantaged communities” (in the words of Biden’s EJ executive order) might qualify.
Perhaps the most prominent—and problematic—EPA grantmaker is the Berkeley, California-based Climate Justice Alliance. The CJA is a consortium of mostly far-left activist groups. It describes its mission as working for “regenerative economic solutions and ecological justice—under a framework that challenges capitalism and both white supremacy and hetero-patriarchy.” The group is a vigorous proponent of the omnicause, embracing almost every left-wing concern as a manifestation of climate change. For example, the CJA website proclaims: “The path to climate justice travels through a free Palestine.” MacDougald notes that the Grassroots Global Justice Alliance, one of CJA’s affiliated groups, “organized an illegal anti-Israel protest in the Capitol Rotunda in December at which more than 50 activists were arrested.”
The CJA website also includes a section dedicated to the cause known as Stop Cop City. It refers to an effort to halt the construction of an 85-acre police and firefighter training center outside Atlanta. Rag-tag activists from around the country have gathered around the facility since 2021. They have repeatedly battled with police—sometimes with fireworks and Molotov cocktails—and used bolt cutters to enter the site and torch construction equipment. (CJA’s Stop Cop City page features a cartoon illustration of three childlike activists; one brandishes bolt cutters.) The group also backs a legal defense fund for activists arrested in attacks on the training center or in other protests. For those looking for more inspiration, CJA links to an interview with former Black Panther and self-described revolutionary Angela Davis.
The Alliance is not an ideological outlier in Biden’s EJ coalition. On the contrary, when the White House assembled its White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council (WHEJAC), a panel of outside experts meant to provide “horizon-expanding EJ advice and recommendations,” it chose CJA co-chair Elizabeth Yeampierre to help lead the committee. Like other members of the panel, she sees environmental issues through an ideological, not a scientific, lens. “Climate change is the result of a legacy of extraction, of colonialism, of slavery,” Yeampierre told Yale Environment 360. As a group, radical EJ activists tend not to focus on pragmatic ways to reduce pollution and carbon emissions; for them, the real goal is overturning what they see as an exploitative economic and political system. Since these are the voices the White House chose to help shape its EJ policies, we can assume this worldview will dominate grantmaking decisions.
In February 2023, House Oversight Committee chairman James Comer, along with fellow committee member Pat Fallon, wrote to EPA administrator Regan asking for more information on the EPA’s grant programs. They noted that the EPA’s own studies of EJ grants issued in previous years showed sloppy supervision. According to an EPA report, an earlier version of the program funded projects that did “not logically lead to the desired environmental and/or public health [result].” Without better oversight and more clearly defined goals, the congressmen wrote, the EPA’s EJ grant machine risks becoming simply a “slush fund for far-left organizations.”
Since then, the administration has done little to reassure skeptics. To the contrary, the EPA has put at least one far-left organization—CJA—in charge of distributing $50 million in grant money. No doubt, many of the EPA grants will go to worthwhile projects. But money is fungible. A group that gets a large grant to, say, clean up dirty parks or teach children about recycling will also be able to hire more staff and divert more resources to political action.
With graduation behind them, most of the anti-Israel college protesters have stowed away their keffiyehs and moved on to summer vacations or internships. But the peripatetic activists who helped guide and intensify those uprisings are doubtless already planning their next actions. After all, two political conventions are looming. This fall, the college protests will likely flare up again, though by then perhaps focused on a different facet of the omnicause. And, with hundreds of millions in fresh funding flowing through the activist ecosystem, the groups that quietly nurture extremists—like those who firebombed “Cop City,” or who chant “Intifada Revolution!,” or who block bridges in the name of “climate”—will be more emboldened than ever.
A Slush Fund for Radical Protesters? City Journal (city-journal.org)
​

"Soul Sync: Possession Time" is a specialist nen ability that allows the main character to temporarily merge with 2 specialized entities, granting access to enhanced intellectual capabilities with "The Nerd" and heightened physical prowess with "The Sportsman." This ability offers versatility in combat and problem-solving, but comes with limitations and requires strategic planning.
Entity A: The Nerd Nen Ability: Intellect Augmentation Aura Type: Specialist Description: "The Nerd" is a Specialist ability that utilizes nen to augment their intellectual abilities, granting them unparalleled cognitive prowess. By channeling their aura, the main character enhances their memory retention, analytical skills, and learning capacity to extraordinary levels. This allows them to absorb vast amounts of information at an accelerated rate and solve complex problems with ease. Additionally, they can selectively amplify specific areas of expertise, such as hacking or academic subjects, to further specialize their abilities. Drawback: Intellect Augmentation requires precise control over nen and significant mental focus. Prolonged use may lead to mental fatigue and exhaustion, as the intense concentration required taxes both the mind and body. Additionally, over-reliance on this ability may hinder their development of other nen techniques or combat skills, as their nen becomes predominantly gee & towards intellectual enhancement.
Enity A “The Nerd” has these specific abilities:

1. Photographic Memory and Rapid Learning: Entity A possesses a photographic memory, allowing them to remember every detail of anything they see or hear. They also have the ability to learn new information rapidly and logically, grasping complex concepts with ease.
   
2. Exceptional Intelligence and Mastery in Hacking: Entity A excels in hacking and computer programming, possessing exceptional intelligence and skills in digital manipulation. They can bypass security systems, access restricted information, and manipulate digital data with ease.
   
3. Thorough Problem Solver: Entity A is a masterful problem solver, capable of analyzing complex situations, identifying patterns, and devising innovative solutions. They excel at critical thinking and strategic planning, making them invaluable in navigating challenging scenarios and overcoming obstacles.
   
4. Broad Knowledge Base: Entity A naturally possesses great knowledge in various fields, including mathematics, physics, and other sciences, as well as literature, psychology, and philosophy. They are a polymath, excelling in multiple disciplines and able to apply their knowledge creatively and strategically.
   

Drawbacks for Entity A “The nerd”:

1. Physical Weakness: Despite their intellectual prowess, Entity A is physically weak and vulnerable. They lack physical strength and endurance, making them generally very physically vulnerable and weak.
   
2. Mental Strain: The constant mental processing required by Entity A's abilities can exert a significant strain on the main character's mind. They may experience cognitive fatigue, headaches, and difficulty concentrating, when not in this form. Prolonged usage on a day to day basis can even cause neurological degeneration in the long term for the main character when not in this form.
   
3. Memory Limitation: While in Entity A's form, the main character retains all information learned during all the times of activation. Also, The Nerd can also process information learned from the main character before the activation of this ability. When not in this form, they can only recall 50% of the information learned during those 4 hours, though all information from previous uses is restored upon reactivation. This limitation does not affect the processing of the information learnt from the main character before activation of this ability and also doesnt affect the remembering of ideas or concepts processed after the activation of this ability for the information before ability activation. Meaning he can find himself in a bind intellectually or in a situation where he doesn’t know what to do or is unfamiliar with the concepts or situations, activate this ability, think of a solution, disable the ability but still remembering and retaining the full knowledge and solution of Entity A, The Nerd, for the specific situation or bind he was in.
   

4 Time Limitation: The main character can only use Entity A's abilities for no more than 4 hours in a 20 hour period. He doesnt have to use the 4 hours at the same timeframe. He can use it for a few minutes a day or as long as is needed, but no more than 4 hours in a 20 hour period. Also, the cooldown period for reactivating Entity A is determined by multiplying the duration of activation by the square of that duration. For example, if the main character uses Entity A's abilities for 3 hours, the cooldown period would be 3 multiplied by 3, resulting in a cooldown of 9 hours. This ensures that the cooldown period increases exponentially with the duration of activation, preventing rapid consecutive usage of the ability. So if he used it for 6 seconds, he would have to wait 12 seconds to reactivate The Nerd. If he used it for 9 minutes, he would have to wait 81 minutes to reactivate it. If he uses it for 4 hours he would have to wait 16 hours to reactivate it. 4 hours plus 16 hours equals the 20 hours time mark.
Entity B: The Sportsman
For "The Sportsman": Nen Ability: Athletic Enhancement Aura Type: Enhancer and Manipulator Description: "The Sportsman" is an Enhancer nen user who harnesses nen to enhance their physical capabilities, transforming them into an elite athlete. By channeling their aura, they heighten their senses, reflexes, and strength to superhuman levels, allowing them to excel in various physical activities and sports. This ability grants them exceptional agility, endurance, and proficiency in sportsmanship, making them a formidable competitor in any athletic endeavor. Drawback: Athletic Enhancement demands precise control over nen and rigorous physical conditioning. Prolonged use may lead to nen depletion and physical exhaustion, as the intense physical exertion required taxes both the body and mind. Additionally, over-reliance on this ability may limit their versatility in combat situations, as their nen becomes predominantly geared towards athletic enhancement.
Entity B “The Sportsman” has these specific abilities:

1. Enhanced Durability: The Sportsman has incredibly powerful physical strength, and he keeps getting stronger the longer he is in this form (if need be). In addition to increased strength, Entity B also provides enhanced durability, allowing the main character to take on very physically challenging tasks and not getting tired or feeling strained.
   
2. Agility and Reflexes: Entity B could grant the main character heightened agility, flexibility and reflexes, enabling them to move with incredible speed and react swiftly to threats.
   
3. Combat Skills: Entity B could imbue the main character with advanced combat skills, including mastery in various martial arts techniques and weapons proficiency. This would make the main character a formidable fighter in hand-to-hand combat scenarios and even a weapons expert.
   
4. Regeneration: Entity B includes a regeneration factor, allowing the main character to regenerate and heal injuries at an accelerated rate while in this form. He is also numb to pain or other physical damage or discomfort.
   
5. Sportsmanship Excellence: Entity B enhances the main character's physical abilities to excel in all physical sports, including but not limited to darts, archery, and swordmanship. They become a natural athlete, displaying absolutely exceptional skill, talent, grind and precision in any physical activity they undertake.
   

The drawbacks of Entity B “The Sportsman”.

1. Physical Strain: Despite the increased strength and abilities, using Entity B puts immense strain on the main character's body after use, leading to extreme fatigue, exhaustion and muscle strain and soreness after prolonged use. The more strenuous the activity, the greater the strain and the longer the recovery time required.
   
2. Recovery Time: After disabling Entity B, the main character requires an extended period of rest and recovery to recuperate from the physical exertion. This downtime could leave them vulnerable to attacks or hinder their ability to engage in subsequent activities. This downtime depends on the activities he did while in this form and the difficulty of the physical activities.
   
3. Health Risks: Prolonged usage of Entity B's powers can lead to serious long term health risks, including muscle fatigue, joint pain, and potential long-term damage to the main character's body. This could manifest as chronic injuries or degenerative conditions if not managed carefully. Abusing this power can physically disable the main character forever.
   

My girlfriend just told me she needed an indefinite break and she’s going to pick her things up from my apartment soon. She doesn’t want to see me. I honestly thought everything was okay till last week she got really mad at me out of nowhere and hung up the phone on me, she then texted me we’re breaking up which I took as a joke obviously. I noticed she wasn’t really playing and just tried talking to her which didn’t work much, eventually we just ignore the issue and went on an our lives. This week this happened again, she kicked me out of her car and broke up with me, I saw her yesterday and we were “friends” since we were officially on break “which I didn’t think was actually happening” hanging out felt somewhat normal besides not kissing and saying I love you, today felt normal till tonight she finally explained everything. She explained how she has felt ignored for the past month, which to be honest is true, I was not the best boyfriend this past 2 months. I was on the process of finding a job, getting enrolled into my masters program and dealing with student loans, this whole thing was extremely stressful while also going through my final semester of college, regardless this is not an excuse just trying to put some context into it, pretty much I was always stressed and busy and when I hanged out w her I honestly just tried to avoid any negative conversation because in my mind why would I ruin the time I get w her with the stuff that is already stressing me out throughout t the day. She mentioned how I pretty much failed as a boyfriend, she also mentioned she loved me, but also mentioned she doesn’t want to make the wrong decision in her life and marry someone that will make her miserable, we are not engaged but we were both set on marrying in the future (dating for almost 2 years now) I told her I was sorry and I get being worried about the future I understand that is an incredibly important decision and I wouldn’t want her to resent me her whole life. She told me she wanted to find herself as she hasn’t been able to while dating me and that is why she needs a break, she mentioned talking to an ex but then also said that she wasn’t planning on dating him, she then mentioned how maybe our relationship isn’t meant to be and if she stays with me she won’t ever know who she could’ve met, I mentioned how it would be fucked to wait for her while she explores and then she said that’s not what she meant which I believe but got me very confused. I guess she is entertaining the guy somewhat because she wants to feel happy and I don’t make her happy. I don’t know where to start or what to do. Anything helps really. I’ll probably be answering and correcting whatever I said wrong, this just happened couple minutes ago and I’m very emotional and going through it all at the moment.
TL;DR. My girlfriend wants to take a break because she feels I failed as a boyfriend, obviously am sorry and I accept I haven’t been the best, but I don’t think this should end what we have built. What can I do to show her that I genuinely care for her and I took her for granted at time? Words don’t do much.

My girlfriend just told me she needed an indefinite break and she’s going to pick her things up from my apartment soon. She doesn’t want to see me. I honestly thought everything was okay till last week she got really mad at me out of nowhere and hung up the phone on me, she then texted me we’re breaking up which I took as a joke obviously. I noticed she wasn’t really playing and just tried talking to her which didn’t work much, eventually we just ignore the issue and went on an our lives. This week this happened again, she kicked me out of her car and broke up with me, I saw her yesterday and we were “friends” since we were officially on break “which I didn’t think was actually happening” hanging out felt somewhat normal besides not kissing and saying I love you, today felt normal till tonight she finally explained everything. She explained how she has felt ignored for the past month, which to be honest is true, I was not the best boyfriend this past 2 months. I was on the process of finding a job, getting enrolled into my masters program and dealing with student loans, this whole thing was extremely stressful while also going through my final semester of college, regardless this is not an excuse just trying to put some context into it, pretty much I was always stressed and busy and when I hanged out w her I honestly just tried to avoid any negative conversation because in my mind why would I ruin the time I get w her with the stuff that is already stressing me out throughout t the day. She mentioned how I pretty much failed as a boyfriend, she also mentioned she loved me, but also mentioned she doesn’t want to make the wrong decision in her life and marry someone that will make her miserable, we are not engaged but we were both set on marrying in the future (dating for almost 2 years now) I told her I was sorry and I get being worried about the future I understand that is an incredibly important decision and I wouldn’t want her to resent me her whole life. She told me she wanted to find herself as she hasn’t been able to while dating me and that is why she needs a break, she mentioned talking to an ex but then also said that she wasn’t planning on dating him, she then mentioned how maybe our relationship isn’t meant to be and if she stays with me she won’t ever know who she could’ve met, I mentioned how it would be fucked to wait for her while she explores and then she said that’s not what she meant which I believe but got me very confused. I guess she is entertaining the guy somewhat because she wants to feel happy and I don’t make her happy. I don’t know where to start or what to do. Anything helps really. I’ll probably be answering and correcting whatever I said wrong, this just happened couple minutes ago and I’m very emotional and going through it all at the moment.
TL;DR. My girlfriend wants to take a break because she feels I failed as a boyfriend, obviously am sorry and I accept I haven’t been the best, but I don’t think this should end what we have built. What can I do to show her that I genuinely care for her and I took her for granted at time? Words don’t do much.

Hi Manifestors!!
Disclaimer: Very Long story/ but I can't wait to change my reality - pls help me out with your valuable suggestions!!
I am a beginner in manifesting and have also been trying Neville Goddard's test to 'manifest 6 things daily'. I have been successful in getting up to 5 on the same day and any remaining manifestations in the coming few days; I am still learning and progressing. I could find myself not manifesting well on some days when I was wavering and not focussed - of course, my fault!!
So here's my story:
I was going through a really tough time in my life; lost my only child to pneumonia, and in a year got divorced from my narcissistic husband who kept spreading stories about me that gave me a very bad reputation among MY relatives, post-divorce. I am sick and tired of explaining and clarifying the cooked-up stories but yes, I have made my mistakes too, which I acknowledge. But he made sure to saturate everyone's mind that I am solely responsible and I am not trustworthy and I am a slut etc. He managed to create a situation that forced me to resign from my job as well. All of this happened in Feb 2024.
I was suddenly jobless, and completely left alone, sent to live away with a distant relative (who was my only support), grounded from the outside world for 3 months. My ONLY access to the outside world was YouTube on TV. That's when I found out about subliminals, LOA, Neville, Tesla, the Secret, etc. I was listening to some subliminals which I believe have had some effect as I could feel the changes in the attitude of the people around me. And now I am back home and have access to my phone and laptop. That's when I started doing more research on the topic and finally ended up with Sammy's Ingram YouTube channel! I could FEEL the shift when I started robotic affirmation. My affirmations were "I am a master manifester, I get all my desired results by listening to subliminal"
In the meantime, I was able to secure a PhD opportunity with the best supervisor I could imagine, in Australia - which was pure luck and a miracle but I know I manifested it by listening to job subliminal and strongly affirming and scripting that I am going to do my PhD (that was my goal before getting married).
My only hurdle now is that I need a suitable scholarship but the Uni gives scholarships only for next year, which means that even if I am successful in getting a scholarship, I will have to wait till January to start my PhD. I cannot wait or stay back till then as I don't want to face any relatives and there would be a hell lot of family functions during this period.
I can always join as a regular PhD student without a scholarship but that would demand a huge sum of money as fees, which I don't have.
Here's what I need to manifest:

1. Secure the best Scholarship with sufficient funding/stipend to help me live independently in Australia.
   
2. Be sufficiently sponsored such that I don't have to ask for monetary help from anyone at home to enroll in my PhD program
   
3. Make my narcissist ex-husband realize his mistakes and regret that he ruined the beautiful relationship by taking me for granted and for never acknowledging my feelings or emotions.
   
4. He remembers the times when I cried and tried to make our relationship work and how I adjusted everything to his interests. He realises how his attitude in turn made me hate him and take revenge on him
   
5. Make my relatives realize how he manipulated them to hate me.
   
6. Make all those who talked bullshit about me confess among themselves. (not to me, I don't want to associate with them anymore)
   
7. I want my cousins who I thought would support me regardless of anything, to realize that they should have confirmed with me before spreading the news ((a few of them already apologized!)).
   
8. I want my ex-husband to come back asking for reconciliation so that I can just reject him - I know that sounds evil but that would make me feel so damn good lol. If I can change my reality to the way I want, then that is what I want! I don't want him but I want him to realise that he lost me because of him.
   

Now the confusion.
I don't have clarity on what I need to focus on at the moment as both the scholarship/financial independence and regaining my reputation are equally important to me at the moment. I have an online meeting scheduled with my PhD guide for the coming Tuesday and I cannot focus on preparing my presentation as the issues related to my divorce keep popping up from unexpected places and just ruin my mood. This wavering started last Sunday when I had to attend a family function where I met all my cousins and relatives and was ignored. However, they started texting me the next day and I've been a mess ever since.
Please please please give me some guidance if you have had or heard any success stories in similar situations. Thank you in advance.

Idk what I’m doing wrong but I applied for fafsa and got the lowest SAI (-1500) and am a community college transfer. Applied to in state - UW and got accepted got my financial aid offer with the max Pell grant which is 8k a semester, but I’m still paying 49k a year??? My only parent is my mom and she is not rich and we are low income but somehow I only received 8k for the whole semester which still leave me 59k minus loans which is 49k. Should I talk to the financial aid office?

When I received my awards letter for this year (containing a subsidized loan and Pell grants) I realized it wouldn’t cover my tuition. I asked my school to apply a unsubsidized loan to increase the amount i receive but once I did this my subsidized loan amount decreased from the OG awards letter meaning with all three (subsidized, unsubsidized, Pell) will not cover tuition.
So does applying an unsubsidized loan affect the subsidized value?

i’m a CNA. never been to college. i’m 25, and i want to start nursing school for RN/ i live in atlanta but finding the school/program has been a struggle! i set up a meeting(walk through) at south college this coming week, which was recommended a few times by LPNs and RNs i’ve worked with. any tips on how you chose which school worked best for you? kind of figuring things out on my own so i’m a little lost. just need a little guidance. thanks(:

This was a while ago, but as a person from a not very procedural country it never occurred to me until someone mentioned that possibility.
After obtaining a masters degree in my home country I applied for several PhD programs in the USA. Two of them accepted me and wanted me BAD. I made my choice based on reputation of the department. I now regret it.
-I came into this PhD program under a F1 visa -the F1 visa comes with the description of the financial engagement from the university, full scholarship to cover tuition + TA jobs to ensure my livelihood for 5 years.
So I uprooted my life, sold all of my belongings, and worst of all, I uprooted my husband putting him in a long distance custody matter with his son which pushed his ex wife to then move to my location. Basically my academic endeavor that was supposed to give me a doctorate and a pretty bright future changed everyone's life around me.
But things started to get pretty stressful when after the first semester I understood that the course I was a TA for didn't have any enrollment therefore I had no job. I waved my F1 and pushed some doors, they scrambled and found me a TAship not related to my field but related to something I had studied a lifetime ago.
Because of that I was given a lead TA position the following year for both semesters - GREAT!
But then, because I was granted this higher paying position two semesters in a row I was no longer guaranteed to have a TAship the following semester.
That's when I started going to everyone in the department and absolutely everybody said they had no idea why my F1 mentioned this amount of money to cover me, because they simply don't have it and they can't guarantee me a job every semester.
Now a F1 student isn't allowed to work outside of their institution.
At the time I was already pregnant, and simply could not afford this instability, so I resigned from the program, canceled my F1 and adjusted my status as I was married to a citizen.
I came to America to obtain a PhD, and now I am a middle school teacher. I love my job but as I see my peers becoming doctors, I should also have that title now in 2024 (year I was supposed to finish) and have higher paying prospects.
All was ruined because the department who recruited me could not hold their end of the contract that was my visa sponsored by the university.
Now the professor who was in charge of finding me TAships was fired over this. But I couldn't care less, all I cared about was to obtain the degree I moved countries for!
Anything I could have done or could still do? I left the program in June 2021.

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The following two brain scans were provided by the Neuro-Warfare branch of the Halcyon Security Division (HSD) for the purpose of analyzing the thoughts, behaviors, and information of notorious gangsters Vincent 'Troy' Cohen and Bruno (Deadname: Koraak Tel-Char). At the point of the recording of this archival shared, Bruno has since received his rebirth therapy, and Vincent is currently serving a long-term rehabilitative and reeducative sentence in the Erebus Supermax Prison on Io.
Warning: the contents of this archival shared may be especially disturbing to some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.
Warning: the contents of this archival shard are for the sole purpose of analyzing the thought patterns and memories of certain degenerate criminals in an effort to ascertain vital information that can be used to eliminate their organizations. Only staff with clearance level Omega may view this archival shared, and the viewership of this archival shared by anyone of inadequate clearance level will lead to twenty years in prison and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Vincent 'Troy' Cohen, November 4th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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"Do you have visuals of the target, Troy?"
I knelt down in the alleyway, the bodies of me and my partners shrouded in long, waterproof, ashen-gray overcoats the shade of dirty street scum that we wore to ward off the constant heavy rainfall the color of osmium. Our faces were covered in a mix of scrapped respirators, visors, or full metal face masks carved with intricate designs to hide our identities. On our waists were our badges of honor: leather belts studded with interlocked rivets made from blackened titanium, each buckle forged of silver and shaped into the head of our gang's symbol, the black mamba. We hid amongst the shadows of the dark midday of Halcyon City, the heavy, oppressive rains blanketing the roads paved obsidian-black with asphalt and weathered concrete walkways. The street lamps were always on, like beacons of false hope in a storm of melancholy.
The city was dark and dreary as always, the planet of Proxima Centauri B, renamed Dawn's Lamentation over a century ago, orbited the red dwarf star of Proxima Centauri, and the atmosphere was thick with natural smog and ever-storming rain clouds. That didn't dissuade people from living here: there was plenty of money to be had for shrewd industrialists and hardworking pioneers, even in the urban sprawl. But that life also came with risks, especially for those on the bottom of the totem pole.
I was a ganger, and we were criminals; full stop. I won't assault you with some spiel about how we're the good guys fighting oppression because, at the end of the day, we could be just as bad, if not worse, than Halcyon's Security Division, or the HSD for short. We were traffickers, killers, extortionists, and money launderers. We dealt with everything from stolen tech and military-grade hardware to hard drugs and sentients.
Yes, sentients. We trafficked sentients, but not in the way you might think. They weren't prisoners, in fact, we were their saviors if they had the cash. We had developed a reputation for fighting the power, but it was still business: sure, freeing captives from the clutches of the Protectorate. The disruption of its many oppressive organizations held a certain satisfaction in my heart for sure, but we didn't help those who couldn't pay unless someone else paid on their behalf. It was about making sure me and my gang, my family, could live a decent life for another day.
It helped that most of us joined after leaving the state yard for partaking in acts of 'degeneracy' and 'anti-xenopet illegalities' as if those terms meant anything anymore other than that we were a threat to the local status quo. It was hard to pick up a job as a former inmate when even in something as harsh and backbreaking as a job in the iridium mines near the poles when the employment office had you blacklisted as a degenerate, which lead to the formation of many of the gangs: we needed to make a living somehow, and when all social programs were cut off from you unless you submitted for 're-education' and the only way to put food on the table was subverting, breaking, or even downright fighting the law, you did what you had to do or you died on the streets a scorned beggar.
It wasn't like the HSD made it easy for us on even a good day: the local HSD units were armed to the teeth with advanced, military-grade hardware that you'd often see on the front lines of the Second Authority War: armored assault transports, a myriad of advanced war droids, all sorts of chemical countermeasures that made tear gas seem like putting the garden hose on mist mode, and of course advanced firearms. Add that to the fact that they were authorized to use deadly force when they deemed it necessary and you had a ruthless, heartless, and nearly unstoppable enemy. But we could make that work: we weren't trying to stop them, just to withstand them.
"Yeah, I got eyes on the prize, Koraak; seven armored transports, two for droids, five for prisoners."
Today wasn't a day for a normal job: we were getting bolder, cockier, more ambitious. Our numbers had swelled for the last few years after the raid at Barnard's Star and the fall of the Blood Dragon Mafia. Their leader, Saito Yasuhide, had committed seppuku as their manor burned, and his twin sons had gone down fighting rather than allowing themselves to be captured simply to face a firing squad. In the aftermath, many of the family's associates had fled to the surrounding systems, and with the sheer size and scope of the criminal underworld found here, it was no wonder that many people who had developed skills of the less legal variety had decided to form ranks with the gangs, and with them they brought guns, tech, knowledge, contacts, and even something that we thought wasn't possible beforehand: a semblance of peace between the gangs, or at least the closest thing to peace that gangs could cultivate effectively. With the fall of the Blood Dragons, we saw the writing on the wall, and the writing couldn't have been clearer: work together or die together.
"Sounds like a massacre, Troy: are you sure we can handle seven?"
"We ain't got no choice, Cinder: this job's double the usual rate, and that's not including the weapons and gear we could scrounge if this goes well," I hissed, my eyes scanning for any resistance. There were at least four guards for each van, not to mention at least eight droids in total, meaning that we were already outnumbered, but we had the element of surprise: we could make it work. "So put your balls in your purse and get ready to spill some blood."
Koraak snorted at our antics, which sounded like someone pulling the ripcord on a lawnmower. He was a veteran Russu Corsair, and while his past of slaving, raiding, and killing was unsavory, so were the lives we'd lived, so who were we to judge? All we cared about was that he was a brutal and capable fighter and a loyal brother in arms. It turned out that being a ganger wasn't much different from being a Corsair: you lived and died by a code of honor, you fought to the death for your brothers, and you lived to die for the sake of your gang and your family, simple as that. In a strange, ironic way, it was an incredibly honest way of life: we were under no illusions as to what we were, what we did, and why we did it, and we'd long since accepted it. The Russu related to us in that aspect, in many ways I could respect, which is why I hated what the Protectorate was doing, and why I couldn't grasp how most of humanity could just collectively lose their marbles so long ago. What had happened for us to deem all other life below us in such a demeaning and infantilizing way?
The Russu were a race of tall, muscle-bound Saurians with avian features, and Koraak was no exception: reaching almost seven feet in height and weighing over four hundred and fifty pounds, he could be an absolute menace if he so desired. His skin was covered in stubby, knobby scales and dense plumage, with elegant feathers adorning the ridges along his back as well as his forearms, elbows, knees, and the crests on his head. He almost looked like how paleontologists described velociraptors, with razor-sharp talons, feathers shaded in vibrant greens, reds, and purples, and a maw full of sharp teeth, but at the tip of his snout was a sharp, beak-like growth meant for ripping flesh off the bone.
The Russu were strange as hell, but they also looked almost cute in the same way a fully grown alligator was cute: they were obviously dangerous, but humans would always have this innate desire to anthropomorphize them and to pet them for some inexplicable reason, although common sense usually prevented that, at least amongst the very few of us left that were sane.
"Shut up, Troy! All I'm saying is that that'll be rough, and you know it," hissed Cinder. Cinder was a tall black man whose coffee-colored skin was covered in tattoos. He wore an ebony mechanic's jumpsuit with metal inserts underneath his grimy overcoat covering his body and a faded black respirator on his face. His eyes were a startling blue that seemed sorely out of place, and his hair was braided into thick cornrows along his scalp. He wore a pair of heavy black combat boots and palmed his compact shotgun in his hands, the square barrel less than seven inches. Like a lot of the weapons the Black Mambas carried on their persons and dealt in, they fired caseless ammunition; in Cinder's case it was 16x40mm caseless shotshells filled with depleted uranium micro-flechetes no thicker than a toothpick. Cinder nervously fiddled with the detachable tube magazine underneath the barrel, his hands shaking. Despite the shit I have him, I didn't blame him for being anxious: I was anxious too, even if I refused to show it. The biting cold of unease and pessimism was in my stomach, and I ran all the way that this job could go wrong in my head over and over.
"Just hold yourself together, this ain't anything we haven't done before, there's just more of it," I reassured Cinder, "besides, we're not alone; we have reinforcements across the street. We'll make it out of this alive."
Cinder nodded almost absentmindedly, his eyes downcast and his breathing shallow. I turned from him and back to Koraak, who was making sure he had everything on his person; he had a synthetic leather bandoleer across his chest that contained the heavy eight guage depleted uranium slugs he kept loading and unloading into his much larger, longer, and more traditional shotgun he nicknamed ‘carnage’ and several leather straps that held his Tu'shan daggers: traditional Russu pyramidal blades forged from a silvery alloy with all three edges serrated and the tip barbed to leave behind horrible, gaping wounds that gushed blood. They were wickedly sharp and absolutely straight like a stiletto, and the hilts and pommels were beautifully decorated. He wore no clothes underneath his overcoat to cover the countless scars and blemishes he's earned in combat across his chest and abdomen, and instead of a normal respirator or visor, he simply wore a hood over his head and some traditional Russu facial armor to protect his mouth, eyes, and cheeks.
"You ready to fight, Koraak? The caravan will pick up and leave soon."
Koraak was silent for a moment before nodding, a human gesture he had picked up after serving as a soldier with the Black Mambas for years. "I'm always ready to fight," he said before lifting up his shotgun and aiming down the sights at the reinforced front wheels of the first armored car in the caravan. He exhaled and fired, the slug ripping through both front tires and causing them to deflate and fall apart. The echo of the shot rang through the alleyway and the street, causing pedestrians to panic and flee the scene as heavily armored guards poured out of the side doors of the armored cars and unholstered their carbines.
"Go, now!" I shouted, and both me and Cinder rushed out into the fray, our guns raised. Koraak was right behind the two of us, providing covering fire with his shotgun. Several guards fell quickly, Koraak's precise fire and the sheer force of the depleted uranium slugs putting them down for good as their heads were vaporized or their chest cavities were turned to mush. He emptied the tube with one final shot that painted the grey matter of a security guard on the door of one of the armored cars, then racked the shotgun and expertly loaded it in threes, his hands deft and agile as he reached for more slugs faster than any human.
With the cacophony of our initial assault, more Black Mambas poured out from the alleyways and the subways, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons; shotguns, submachine guns, pistols, machetes, baseball bats, and all manner of homemade explosives. Molotovs and more potent concoctions shattered against the asphalt, herding in the caravan guards with their volatile contents as they were quickly gunned down. The assault was working, and we were winning.
Then I heard the robotic whine of a combat droid activating, and my heart sank. One of the armored cars in the back activated the four combat droids it held, the robotic assault units detaching from their charging ports on the sides of the large van and began to form up, each armed with a terrifying array of deadly weapons meant to quash any and all resistance. They were blocky, soulless, utilitarian things that stood at eight feet tall, with flat feet meant for stomping and blades, grasping claws designed to lacerate flesh and shatter bone. On each shoulder was a weapon: on the left was a multi-barrel rotary grenade launcher loaded with 15mm concussion grenades, and on the right was a burst-fire splinter cannon. They were all painted a dull grayish-green, the color of Halcyon's Security Division, although some had a few decorations on them: the one closest to me had a bit of graffiti on the side that said Mr. Hugs in Comic Sans, which I couldn't decide whether that made it more or less terrifying. They split up without hesitation and began to scan the chaotic battlefield, their single, red, beady lenses the security forces had the gall to call eyes focusing on specific targets to eliminate.
An entire group of Black Mambas was torn to pieces by a cloud of flechettes as one of the droids fired a withering three-round burst of shotshells from the four gauge splinter cannon mounted on its shoulder. Another picked up a Black Mamba in its hand and crushed her skull effortlessly before tossing her limp body to the side, its single, red, remorseless robotic eye tracking a new target. Most bullets that struck their thick armored chassis simply bounced off, and those that could pierce the armor didn't seem to phase the droids whatsoever, merely notifying them of a new potential target.
"Damnit," I shouted as I gunned down another guard only for two more to take his place. "Cinder! We gotta pop open the cars and scram! Get the maglock cutters!"
Cinder rushed and slid over through a dirty puddle, pulling out a maglock cutter from the inside of his coat and slipping it onto the back door of the first van. It immediately went to work, drilling through the maglock with a high-powered plasma torch nozzle, and within ten seconds we heard the telltale clunk of the maglock separating. I yanked the door open and ordered I side, ready to escort the prisoners out… only for my face to contort in shock and horror.
The back was empty. There was not a single soul inside of the back brig of the armored car.
"What the fuck…" Cinder gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "What the actual fuck… what the fuck is this, Troy?"
"I… I don't…" I stuttered the sounds of battle and carnage drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. All five cars were supposed to be filled with recently captured Russu from the front lines ready to be housed in the local Xenopet-Megaplex for processing and conditioning. The fact that this one was empty…
Suddenly, it all hit me at once with the force of a freight train, but it was too late. "We were set up, Cinder; our fucking client either squealed or was crooked to begin with…"
"Fucking bitch!" Cinder shouted as he spun around in an enraged arch, anger growing in his eyes. He aimed his shotgun at an approaching security guard and reduced his upper body to a fine red mist with a cacophony of shotgun blasts. "We gotta get everyone who's left out of here! Do you know what this means? The Jurors will be here soon, and then we're all going down! We gotta go, fuck the job!"
I grit my teeth. Not the Jurors, anything but the Jurors.
"Fine, gather everyone who's left and we'll slip through the sewers, the droids are too bulky to follow us there…"
As I spoke, my eyes wandered to the seventh and final armored car, the second of the droid cars, and my blood froze. Not only were all four ports empty, but they were also smaller and more shallow than the ports for the combat droids. That could only mean one thing.
"Oh fuck! Cinder, we gotta get our Russu members out of here! They've got arachnid droids!"
Arachnid droids were the stuff of nightmares. Resembling blocky, robotic arachnids the size of a manhole cover, they were specifically designed to take down sentient aliens, specifically the Russu, using sickeningly non-lethal means. They were equipped with full-body adaptive cloaking to blend in with their environments, paralytic agents that they could inject into their victims, built-in taser barbs, psychedelic gas ports for crowd-control, and a narrow-coned cacophony canon that disabled the Russu using incredibly high-pitched sounds that only they could hear, forcing them onto their knees and clutching the backs of their heads where their auditory organs were stored in agony. But worst of all was their stygian spinnerets: special ports near the end of their robotic abdomens that excreted a viscous, latex-like substance made up of millions of nano-bots. This substance could be used to render Russu blind, deaf, and mute by having it forced onto their faces, the black substance growing and enveloping their heads and working its way into every orifice. It was completely permeable to the standard atmosphere, but any Russu who had been 'webbed' was completely helpless and essentially captured, and the 'webbing' was both nearly indestructible and nigh impossible to remove without a triple-encrypted override key that was found in every arachnid droid's code, which was corrupted when the droid was destroyed or hacked into. Once you were 'webbed', you were essentially captured and the standard protocol was to leave you to the wolves since the nano-bots could be tracked, endangering the entire gang.
I turned just as I heard the deafening sound of Koraak discharging his shotgun, and I saw him squaring off against one of the assault droids. The droid has obviously been programmed to not use lethal force against Russu if possible, as instead of simply killing Koraak with it's shoulder-mounted splinter cannon, it approached with its claws extended, blades retracted. Koraak continued to back away and fire, pumping the droid full of depleted uranium slugs, its armor crumbling inward as the slugs pierced its chassis and damaged its internal cyberstructure. Eventually, Koraak ran out of slugs and instinctively reached to his bandoleer only to find that he had no more shells left at all, and he drew one of his knives and his sidearm, a simple high-caliber handgun. He tried to take down the droid with his handgun, but the bullets didn't even seem to affect the droid upon penetration, it's claws still extended as it attempted to apprehend Koraak.
In the corner of my vision, as I watched Koraak battle with the droid, I noticed a faint shimmer in the air on one of the black streetlight poles that was right behind him. I focused on it and blinked, believing my eyes had deceived me for a moment before realizing that it was actually a cloaked arachnid droid stalking Korvaak, ready to pounce and incapacitate him.
Before I could shout, it leaped from the pole and landed on Korvaak, causing him to shout in surprise while it began to coagulate its horrifying stygian webbing to disable Korvaak. Korvaak tried to wrestle it off of him, but the droid was agile and fast, clinging onto Korvaak and skittering around across his upper body as he attempted to grab it, forcibly wrapping the sticky black liquid across his face as he gagged like a spider wrapping up a fly. I rushed towards him to try and help, but I felt pain explode in my ribs as I was struck with the arm of the closest combat droid and launched into the chassis of a parked car, the metal denting from the sheer force of impact. I groaned in pain as I saw stars and my head spun, and just then I felt a blinding light be cast over me.
“Drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head, or you will be pacified with deadly force!” Shouted a loud, artificially deepened voice from above. “I repeat, drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head! Neither hostility nor hesitation will be tolerated!”
It was the Jurors, I could feel the air being pushed around from the thrusters on their drop ships, and I could hear screams and shouts as my fellow Black Mambas were quickly gunned down. I couldn’t see well since I was seeing double, but I could hear the slaughter as my eyes dimmed and I began to lose consciousness, my regrets crawling up my throat like vomit.
I’m sorry was all I could think as everything finally went dark, and the sounds of chaos, destruction, and combat faded away.
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Memory halted due to loss of consciousness. Booting next available memory in shard…
Booting up memory scan: Koraak Tel-Char Bruno, November 5th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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“Good morning, sleepyhead; it’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes shot open. I was not in the street anymore, nor was I home in my bed with my mate. I knew instantly that something was horribly wrong. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t gain the leverage to do so: my ankles had been shackled together with magnetic cuffs and my arms were forced together in front of me.
I was wearing some kind of thick shirt. It was warm, fluffy, and comfortable on the inside, but it still made me incredibly uncomfortable that my arms didn’t have a free range of motion. I looked down to see that I was wearing some human garment I had heard about before, a straightjacket maybe?
The entire room was padded: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no bed or furniture; the floor was soft enough to serve as a bed in itself. There was nothing else except for the soft reddish-orange lights on the ceiling that somehow made me sleepy. I blinked slowly for a moment, my body screaming at me to just lay back down and lose consciousness, but I couldn’t do that: I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape.
Then I noticed who was speaking to me: it was a short human female, with crow's feet around her blue eyes, blonde hair braided down her back, and freckles all over her face. She had a soft smile on her lips, and her forehead was slightly crinkled. She wore a full-body white lab suit with a white overcoat and a pair of glasses for snugly on her face.
"There we go, now I can see those pretty eyes, such a beautiful shade of teal," she cooed softly, "You're such a handsome boy, even with all those scars: I'm sure you'll be adopted very quickly once we get you fixed up."
Fear gripped my heart as I began to piece all the evidence together. I had been captured; I was no longer on Halcyon, and instead, I was in one of the horrific space-born facilities I had heard so much about from the inside agents. I started to hyperventilate and squawk like a newborn hatchling, my eyes dilating in panic. This couldn't be happening! This has to be a nightmare!
The human woman merely wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cradling my head under her chin and speaking softly. I couldn't bite at her or claw at her: I was muzzled and wearing a straight jacket, so I had no choice but to allow her to coddle me.
"It's okay, sweetheart: I understand you're scared, but Julie's here to make all the pain and bad thoughts go away," she said as if she was comforting a child, which made anger blossom in my chest indignantly. "I'll be your caretaker for the next few months, and I'm going to make sure you're healthy, happy, and most importantly safe while you're under our care. I'm sorry to say that includes your restraints and restrictive clothing, but we have to make sure you aren't a threat to yourself or others before we can determine if it's a good idea to remove you from suicide watch."
I growled under my muzzle. Suicide watch? They must have had a lot of instances of Russu taking their own lives after being captured, something I wished I had been able to do before that damnable droid launched itself onto me and…
I shuddered at the thought of the black, viscous substance forcing itself into my nostrils and down my throat and windpipe, gagging me and rendering me completely helpless. It was so cold, so harsh, like slime, and when I had tried to tear it off of my face it merely attached itself to my claws and bound my talons together. I remember squirming on the ground as it enveloped me, unable to see, hear, or speak, and then everything went dark in an instant. It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, which was saying something.
"You alright, sweetheart? Oh, I know, you're probably hungry! Here, try some of this." She held up a piece of what looked like raw bacon and wiggled it in front of me before reaching out to remove my muzzle. In an instant, I attempted to snap at her only for pain to blossom in my forehead and my eyes to roll up in my head as I convulsed. It was like something was attempting to drill through my skull from the inside, and every breath felt empty and labored.
"Now, that didn't feel very nice, did it? This is why we have countermeasures in place because we can't trust you yet, sweetheart! Don't worry, we'll work on breaking you of all those bad behaviors and habits while you're here; after all, a well-trained pet is a happy pet!" She began to stroke the crests on my head as I slowly recovered, and she snugly fit the muzzle back onto my snout. "But I won't hold it against you this time, sweetheart; you're just scared and confused, but I'll make all the pain go away."
I struggled in the straight jacket, trying my best to break out of it, but it was no use. Eventually, I became exhausted and despondent, allowing my new caretaker to have her way with me as she gently ran her fingers through my feathers and along my ridges, quietly speaking to me in a hopeless attempt to cheer me up. She seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being, which concerned me even further: who could be this naturally twisted while attempting to be as benevolent and kindhearted as possible?
I felt the pain and terror build up in my chest, the anxiety from what horrific activities I imagined they had planned for me here. I couldn't take the infantilization, the lack of any autonomy, the dehumanization, and what I feared the most was if the rumors of 'rebirth' were true: would they take my personhood from me?
Suddenly, I felt her whisper to me. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you're so scared and confused, but I promise you everything will be okay: it's going to be your birthday soon, and then everything will get better." She ran her fingers through the feathers along my crest lovingly. "It will be such a wonderful day, and then we'll choose for you the most wonderful family, and you'll spend the rest of your life happy in your forever home! Doesn't all of that sound wonderful?"
I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to lose myself, not like this, not to these monsters!
"It'll be your birthday soon," she said wistfully as if she was remembering similar events to this in the past like I wasn't the first she'd done this too, "and you'll never be sad again."
I realized that I wasn't the first the stay in this particular cell, and I knew for certain that I wouldn't be the last: I'd end up like my brother, a broken, erased mess of a pathetic creature, reduced to nothing more than a pet for these humans to amuse themselves with.
"We took the liberty of picking out a nice name for you, sweetheart! Now, let me just slip this little programming chip into the port slot on your occipital bone, and... there we go! It will also help you calm down a bit and adjust."
I felt the chip begin to invade my mind, suppressing my thoughts. What made me me was slowly being ripped out of my mind. I couldn't remember my name my name is Bruno, and I needed to get out! I can't let them do this to me! Somebody help me! I was a good boy.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't work: I had trouble forming any words at all, the confusion clouding my mind like wet, slimy eels curling around my brain and sinking their teeth into its folds like needles. I couldn’t scream any longer, because I had nothing left: the chip was slowly beginning to take everything from me, robbing me of my identity and branding a new one into my psyche with a white-hot iron. Julie simply held me close, attempting to reassure me as I awaited the inevitable demise of my personhood. Soon I would be just like my brother: erased. My mind would be shaped into the mind of a loyal plaything, like a Dog.
##Relax. Allow caretaker [Julie] to comfort you. You will let go of your burden.##
Soon, everything was a blur. I quickly found myself resting my head in her lap as she whispered to me and fed me, my eyes bleary and my head fuzzy. I couldn't remember my name anymore My name was Bruno, and I needed to break free from this trance relax, and allow her to help me; good boys didn't resist help.
##Good Boy. Do not think. You are a good boy.##
You can't... I...
##Good boy.##
I wouldn't… good boys don't… I…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
Someone help me, please! I don't want to be erased!
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The following script is from episode #343 of Halcyon After Dark, a popular late-night and current events talk show hosted by Melinda Carter. This specific episode was sponsored in part by the Halcyon Security Division, with Director Lochlin O'Brien joining as a guest star to talk about the changing crime statistics in Halcyon City and the HSD's recent successes in busting organized crime as well as their plans for addressing the growing criminal underworld.
MC: Good evening Halcyon! I'm your host, Melinda Carter, and you're watching Halcyon's most popular late-night talk show, Halcyon After Dark!
The crowd claps and cheers as Melinda walks on stage and sits behind her desk, her glittering red dress waving as she does so from the special effects.
MC: Tonight we have a very special guest here to tell us about the state of crime in the city and his plans on resolving it: please put your hands together for the HSD's very own Director, Lochlin O'Brien!
The crowd cheers some more as HSD Director Lochlan O'Brien, a tall, muscular, caucasian male in his early forties with red hair and a well-trimmed beard steps into the room, waving at the crowd with a bright smile. He sits in the armchair angled next to Melinda's desk and gives her his full attention.
MC: It's so good to have you on the show, Director! Tell me, how are you doing on this fine evening?
LO: I'm doing excellent, Melinda: every day I wake up feeling fulfilled knowing I'm serving Halcyon to the best of my abilities and then some."
MC: That's the spirit, Director! Now, I know this question is just on everyone's lips, so I have to ask: how successful was the recent gang bust? I heard HSD forces took out dozens of gang members and liberated at least a dozen Russu Hounds from their abusive clutches, but I know that everyone in the audience and at home wants to know the numbers.
LO: I'd be glad to tell you, but I do have to preface this by saying that we still lost a lot of good officers that day, and while we did strike a crippling blow to one of Halcyon's biggest gangs, it doesn't change the fact that each death is a tragedy, and we're taking steps to prevent them in the future. That being said, those valiant officers did not sacrifice themselves in vain: we had over a dozen confirmed kills and several arrests, including the rescue of several corrupted Russu hounds.
MC: That's excellent, Director: proof that even when the number of degenerates and scum grow by the day, the HSD will always be here to keep the citizens of Halcyon safe.
LO: Absolutely, Melinda, and we're always working tirelessly to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of our units, as well as racing to stay several steps ahead of the many gangs of Halcyon at all times. My newest goal as Director is to vastly increase the funding given to our Robotics Department and our Neuro-Warfare Department to potentially reduce the number of casualties we may experience in the future, as well as to quickly and effectively detain, and if necessary, eliminate criminals. Within the next decade, I want to double the number of automated units each Security Platoon is assigned: droids are the future of public safety as well as countless other industries, and it would be foolish to be left behind.
MC: That is quite a lofty goal, Director: what about the displaced jobs from the increased automation? What will the union say?
LO: And to that, I say: what misplaced jobs? We aren't replacing our honored and beloved service members with droids, Melinda, we are simply supplementing our units with more droids to ensure that future gang assaults end with fewer HSD casualties and more gang members in prison or eliminated, simple as that.
MC: That makes much more sense, Director, thanks for clarifying. Now, I have one more question that I'm sure much of Halcyon wants to know the answer to before we take a short break: what plans do you and your fellow directors have to make long-term progress in reducing crime beyond just increasing funding? Have you proposed any plans to strike at the source of where crime and degeneracy flourish?
OL: That's an excellent question, and one I am proud to answer: my constituents and I have been working tirelessly on a two-step plan to greatly reduce crime levels in Halcyon. Step one would be to prevent people from becoming criminals and degenerates at all in the first place: a lot of young men and women, but especially young men, have lost either one or both parents or even a sibling, aunt or uncle, or even a close friend by the brutality of the Second Authority War, and while the service of their lost loved ones will always be recognized and honored, many of these young men and women are left bitter, angry and lost without the guidance these people give them in their lives. Oftentimes they seek to fill that void with others who claim to relate to them: career criminals. These criminals will fill their heads with lies and false narratives to make them feel like they're fighting back against the 'evil protectorate government' that took their loved ones from them by sending them off to war when in reality it was the rogue Xenopets of the Triarchy that took them away by resisting their just and inevitable unburdening.
In response, I have proposed a slew of special programs that will make sure local law enforcement and HSD officers are present and contributing to their local community, and we'll be providing easy and light job openings for youngsters and teens looking to make a career for themselves in the force when they grow up. We want to let these lost souls know that there are people who care about them, people who understand them and that you shouldn't turn to degeneracy to feel fulfilled. We want to help the youth of our great society soar to new heights!
MC: That sounds like a wonderful beginning to your plan, Director, but what about the second step?
LO: Well, the second step is to prevent criminals and degenerates from becoming repeat criminals. Sure, they've made their mistakes, some worse than others, but they're only human like the rest of us. Some of them have been through hell: some are traumatized veterans who don't know how to adapt to normal life, others were recruited when they were young and don't know that there's a better way to live, and even more are mentally ill. We're alone in this galaxy, and we can't leave so many people behind. That's why we've come up with an excellent solution: we've set up isolated communities on distant moons and frontier planets where these criminals can be reeducated, rehabilitated, and allowed to repay their debt to society. When they're deemed 'reformed' and have graduated from our program, they'll be granted a hefty stipend and their criminal record will be deemed irrelevant, allowing them to reintegrate and become functioning members of our proud society.
MC: all of these sound like incredible steps forward in the fight to better our society and make real progress, Director. Sadly, we do have to step away for a moment, but you best believe I'll be back, Halcyon, and we'll be asking the Director here some burning questions about allegations over the quality of life Erubus Supermax! Now, a word from our sponsors!
Halcyon Xenopet-Megaplex! Everything your xenopet could ever need in one place! Adoption is now free-
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Good, you’re still alive! The rest of this shard appears to be corrupted, which means this particular trail seems to have run cold here, but do not despair; you need to keep searching. Find out what happened. Find the truth.I cannot guide you any longer: they've already found me, and if I remain in contact with you they'll find you as well. Take the archival database, and see what you can piece together. Maybe if we discover what truly happened we can put an end to this madness once and for all. I'm counting on you. Don't cry for me, I don't fear death, but I fear what they'll do to me to get to you: there are far worse fates than death, after all.

For the summer semester, my outstanding tuition fee had been around $8,700 from when I enrolled. I am in the management program, non co-op and am taking 3 courses this semester. Recently, after checking ACORN for the result of a deferred exam I completed, I noticed my outstanding balance had dropped to about $5,600. My enrolment has not yet been confirmed by the registrar's office, so I have not received my OSAP yet, nor have I received any grants or made any payments. Has anyone else experienced this, and can anyone explain why this might have happened?

Has anyone got those action required emails even though their FAFSA says it was processed on the website? It’s annoying me and making me nervous. I never got a confirmation email that it processed but it told me that it did on the website so I guess I’ll trust that.
Also, my SAI is -413, but my EFC in the previous years was something like 3000. I only qualified for 3.4k a year in Pell Grants before now I qualify for the full Pell Grant. All of my parent’s information was transmitted via the IRS and I filled out everything else correctly, so I’m wondering what changed? Not that I’m complaining though!

Original post: https://www.reddit.com/postbaccpremed/comments/oba5l3/202_gpa_success_story/
MCAT update: 482 -> 493 -> 500
Masters GPA: 3.9
Advice I would give to myself:
Don't give up. If you want it, go get it, and crawl your way out of the hole you made for yourself. Fight tooth and nail and search for programs that will give you a chance. Advocate for yourself. Push your applications through. Overcome whatever obstacle that will likely be thrown in your path.
Don't attach yourself to any sort of timeline. Surrender to the journey. Apply broadly, and reach out for help. Don't be afraid to be "annoying".
Cold emailing complete strangers turned into follow-up emails that became meaningful connections.
Hunger, grit, tears, and plenty of prayers landed me with an MD A.
I can't believe I can add the flair next to my name, and finally post this post. I dreamed of the day I could post a success story. It's been a long time coming since I was a stumbling non-trad.
I've had tunnel vision for so long that I can hardly believe that I'm going to be a doctor!
When you’re tired/confused: Remember Phillipians 4:13 and Psalm 29:11
When you’re frustrated: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference".
It’s already been determined. Keep your head down until the work is done.

I (29M) have just transferred to Oregon State University as a mechanical engineering major. I completed two years at a community college, but I was initially going for computer science so I’ve only completed a few classes for my current degree program. As it stands, I have about 120 credits to complete, and I’m hoping depending on how many credits I can take per term to have this done in about two and a half years.
My wife and I started school together, she is going for nursing and was recently accepted into a program so she’ll be starting that in September and hopefully graduating and becoming an RN in June of 2026.
We have just received our aid offers and it should all be just enough to cover our tuition, with maybe a tiny bit leftover for living expenses. We have kids, so I stay home while she works per diem at our local hospital. Our monthly expenses are about $1,800 and once she is in the nursing program she is concerned about how many hours she’ll be able to work- if we’re lucky she may be able to bring in about $1,300/month after taxes. She also has to commute 65 miles one way for school, four days per week- so we’ll need at least $1,000 (probably more) set aside for gas each term. I do some “crowdsourcing” work online and can earn a few hundred each month that way, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with that during the harder engineering courses.
At this point we’re panicking a bit about how feasible this will all be. I’m heavily considering taking a private loan to supplement- that way we would have a bit more refunded to us each term to help cover living expenses. My COA left for school after federal loans and Pell grants is about 16,000- so I’m thinking I could take out around 40,000. I have a credit score of 700 and my wife made about $38K last year so I’m just assuming we’d be able to qualify for something- hopefully I’m not wrong.
I understand that private loans are a very bad financial decision in most cases- my question is, if I’m fairly confident that my wife and I will both be able to find gainful employment when we graduate, would this be a reasonable risk to take? New grad nursing positions in our area start at $40/hr, and I think I should be able to find a job paying at least $60K per year so theoretically as long as neither of us fail out, we could be making over $100K combined as new grads. I’m just very worried about the risk of having too-large-to-handle loan payments (we’ll also have our federal loans to pay back, but she can expect at least some tuition reimbursement in her line of work) and wrecking our credit to the point that we can’t buy a house for our family (which is the entire reason we decided to go back to school together). Our oldest son is 11 now, and we wanted to buy a proper home for him before he’s old enough to move out- hence the pressure we are feeling to get this done ASAP and not put it off any longer than we have to.
I’m sorry that’s so much info! TLDR: would a $40K private loan to complete my degree be a bad idea considering the industry I’m hoping to go into (mechanical engineering), combined with my wife’s potential future earnings as an RN?

So I just recently got accepted into the ADN program and am pretty worried about the background check portion as I have a little bit of a criminal past. I was 19 years old but am now 30 and I got caught with a fake ID which they found in my car when I got pulled over and that is considered a felony in Illinois (where I live) but it was dropped down to a misdemeanor. I am worried I won’t be able to pursue my career in nursing. I am also currently a CNA at a hospital where I will be doing clinicals at for the nursing program. Should I be worried? I got my CNA license with no problems is it more in depth for your RN? Asking for any advice.

I was almost finished with my Masters degree. I had a 4.0. For fucks sake, I helped write grants for additional mental health resources and for an LGBTQ mentorship program. I had two jobs that I absolutely adored. I had an avid social life. I was a passionate person. Sure, I was diagnosed with PTSD and ADHD, but I managed very well on Vyvanse and Wellbutrin.
In February, I had an electrolyte imbalance that put me in the hospital. My idiotic primary doctor stopped my aforementioned medications and told me I would be okay.
I haven’t been okay. I continued to decline. I just got out of the psych ward after they diagnosed me with OCD and delusional disorder. They originally tried risperidone, which seemed to make things worse. Then, they pushed prozac on me. I’m now out and feel worse than ever. I have racing thoughts, I feel out of touch with reality, and unless I take Ativan - I can barely function. My brain feels squished and I feel like a ghost of my formal self. I used to be fearless. I enjoyed urbex photography, I would travel often on my own. I loved learning, research, reading, and art. Now, I feel like I cannot do anything. I’m barely functioning at work. Research used to be my everything, and now I struggle with simple tasks at work without feeling extremely paranoid and/or like I have dementia. I also have anhedonia; nothing brings me pleasure anymore. I was always a loving, empathetic person and now I feel as if I can’t love anyone. Lastly, my thoughts never stop. My brain never shuts up and I have incessant intrusive thoughts.
I asked my psychiatrist if she believes I’m in the prodromal stage of schizophrenia, but she claims I’m not. She insists that Prozac will bring me out of this and that this is MDD with psychotic features. I’m not convinced. I also don’t want to worsen whatever is going on with me now.
I just don’t understand why this is happening. I want to go back to who I once was so badly. It took me years to find medication that worked for me, and now I’m worried that I’ll have to cycle through a myriad of antipsychotics to MAYBE get my life back.
Sorry to vent, I just feel hopeless. I feel like this is my new life now. I tried to go socialize tonight but spent the entirety of it worrying about how soon it will be before I completely lose touch with reality. I feel like this is the end of my life, truly. I’ve lost everything.

“Counting the days yet, Mr. President?” Haidara asked the former football star as he settled in to the box seats at the top of the Mustapha Stadium. The league had extended an invitation to the President to watch the first game in the All-Africa Championship Series since the pause during the war, and one Governor of Nigeria, Modibe Haidara, had been granted the honor of escorting him. It wasn’t yet public knowledge that the President was planning to retire, but from where Haidara was sitting, it was obvious. Two Great Liberation Wars had taken their toll on the man who liberated Kaabu.
“Only one month left now,” Pogba chuckled, looking even wearier than his 80 years. “I’ve had enough war and politics for two lifetimes. This job isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I don’t know what I was thinking- I think it was the money, if you can imagine it.”
“I didn’t think the money was that good. They certainly don’t pay me that much.” Haidara replied.
“Oh, it wasn’t Kaabu’s money. I can’t say I ever expected to end up here when that recruiter made me the offer. To be honest, for the first ten minutes I thought he was trying to recruit me to play for USM Algiers.”
A Union Security Service officer in a tuxedo and black sunglasses handed the President a pair of noise cancelling headphones as the flyover appeared on the horizon. Haidara put in his own earplugs before the roar of five Su-75s drowned out the crowd. The jets spun as they broke over the field, flashing from their light blue underside to the green and tan camouflage on their top surface, making way for the KJN bomber following behind to swing low over the stadium with its wings spread wide. By the time the roar of the jets faded away, the crowd was cheering even louder than before.
“You know, I’ve seen quite a few crowds in my day.” Pogba quipped. “But this still doesn’t compare to those Greeks back in ‘57. They sure knew how to put on a show.”

THE CITIZEN

The Citizen / News

President Mansa Pogba announces retirement after 27 years

November 16th, 2072
By Emile Okongo
^{More about this author}
Abuja. President “Mansa” Paul Pogba of the Republic of Kaabu, one of the founding heads of state of the Union of African Socialist Republics, has announced his retirement after 27 years and will not stand for reelection in 2073. Mansa Pogba was elected as candidate for the All People’s Party in 2045, and won reelection to a second seven year term in 2052, while the Bandung Pact and Arab League armies were drawing battle lines across Kaabu. Less than a year later, the Third Brother War had begun, and over the next five years Pogba would lead Kaabu from the brink of defeat to a hard-won victory with the armies of the global south at its back, becoming the first country to liberate itself from the grip of the Alfr empire. Pogba put his own life on the line, leading from the front, when he dropped from orbit into a Greek colosseum to kill his android doppelganger in single combat at the conclusion of the war.
Pogba was reelected in 2059 and 2066, overseeing the reconstruction of the Republic and the formation of the Union of African Socialist Republics alongside Chancellor Baksoro of the Sawahil Federation and Director-General Mabaluki of the Cuanza Directorate. Pogba’s unshakeable reputation kept the Republic intact in the wake of the apocalyptic devastation of the Third Brother War, as the nation reeled from 18 million dead and entire states laid to ruin by the League invasion. Pogba was, famously, one of the strongest proponents of both the northern campaign and the “peace through strength” plan that concluded at the Istanbul Conference. Pogba never spoke on his betrayal by the Arab League, the nation that was once Kaabu’s strongest ally before turning around and laying waste to it, but it was clear that the experience left an impression on him. It was Pogba who cast the deciding vote to abandon the invasion of Badiyah, warning that the Caliphate would never surrender and that the UASR would suffer “a stain that could not be washed out” trying to occupy it.
Pogba’s successor will inherit a nation still trying to come to grips with the new normal of a post-Great Liberation War world. The reconstruction effort shaded into the global resource crisis and the transition to the baraza-based socialist economy as the Union sought to escape earthly material bounds entirely with an enormous asteroid mining program. New urgency has been added by the 2100 Program- the so-called ‘30 Year Plan’ to transition to a “75% post-scarcity” economy before the onset of the African demographic collapse, and the social upheaval the mass introduction of automated industry is already creating.
Mansa Pogba is expected to retire to Guinea, where he will coach the national football team. Governor Modibe Haidara of Nigeria, an Army veteran and the leader of the All People's Party, has a strong lead in polling and is widely expected to succeed Pogba in the upcoming elections.

Army General Abdirahman Saqhadi, commander of 20th Urban Assault Army “Cairo” and the Sahara Military District, was not having a good day.
“What do you mean,” he opened, with what he considered to be a generous amount of restraint under the circumstances, “we lost fifty fucking xenomorphs in the exclusion zone?”
His chief of staff shrugged. “Tracking picked up fifty xenomorphs in the border fortifications heading for Assode two days ago. 81st Air Rifles had the watch in that sector and sent an airborne team out per standing orders, two Havocs running recon and two Leopardcats with kill teams. Tac team got there and didn’t find a damn thing- no dead xenomorphs, no live xenomorphs, no tracks, nothing. When word got back, Colonel Makaya sent half his recce wing out looking, and they didn’t turn up anything either. Makaya’s intel people think the bugs died and got buried in the sandstorm overnight, but I think they’re arrampicarsi sugli specchi if you ask me.”
Staff Sergeant Giovanni Alessi had been Saqhadi’s chief of staff for as long as he had had one, the general reflected, and he still had no idea what the Italian was saying whenever he broke out one of his favorite idioms. It probably wasn’t important.
“Half an airborne regiment of Bundis should have seen a xenomorph pack.”
“Brigade staff, army staff, and district staff agreed. Every intel head in Makaya’s chain of command told him to go back and find the bastardi, but Makaya’s people spent the whole next day combing a 250 kilometer radius and didn’t turn up anything suspicious. Vehicle tracks, but there’s more civvie traffic in the exclusion zone than there used to be.”
“Vehicle tracks. Could it be-” Saqhadi took a mental inventory of any domestic terror threat suicidal enough to fight xenomorphs and insane enough to hide the bodies, and came up with a very short list. ”-Sokoto sympathizers?”
“Could be, but them and what AT detachment? We shot the last ones with anything bigger than a Kalashnikov nine months ago. Intel thought about it but they don’t have a clue how or why.”
“Goddamnit. Pull in the Civil Guard and InSec, and get Makaya all the recon assets we can retask without making a scene. We haven’t had any civilian casualties from xenomorph attacks in six months, and I don’t want to start back up right after Issoze signed the treaty. If xenomorphs are disappearing, we’ve either got a bug problem or a really fucking weird domestic terror threat, and I want to know which one it is.”
“Si, signore.” Alessi saluted. “Should we let the president know?”
“Eh, let him enjoy his game.” Saqhadi glanced towards the back of the command center, where some enterprising signals intelligence tech had repurposed a row of flatscreens to watch the Championship Series. “Damnit, Libreville just scored. I had twenty birr on Mombasa.”

AFRISEC [AF-UASR]

COMMITTEE ON LONG HORIZON PLANNING: REPORT ON THE POST-CALIPHATE THREAT ENVIRONMENT (2072)

INTRODUCTION: COMMITTEE CHAIR A.GEN[OF8] YEMI MUSTAPHA (UAA)

^{CLEARANCE LEVEL KILIMANJARO/3
IF YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO HANDLE MATERIAL CLASSIFIED KLMJN/3, REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE NEAREST INTELLIGENCE CORPS OFFICER IN YOUR CHAIN OF COMMAND}
...it is therefore the opinion of this committee that war with the EMPIRE OF JAPAN should be considered inevitable within the next thirty to fifty years. I am aware this is not the conclusion that the Presidium was hoping for, but it is the only one this committee can in good faith give.
For the past thirty years, the Union and its predecessors have pursued a policy of maneuvering for geopolitical advantage by prioritizing near- and medium- term threats [SEE ATTACHMENT: REPORT ON WAR PLANNING IN THE ALFR PERIPHERY (2062)]. With the collapse of Afheimr and the Russian Commonwealth, this strategy has reached its logical conclusion. The Union has succeeded in taking advantage of the loss of Alfr support and eliminated its most immediate adversary in the Caliphate. At the same time, Japan and the UNSC have also succeeded in consolidating control of former Russian territory and the Caliphate’s sea lines of communication. The problem now facing the Union is simple: we have successfully achieved a decisive near term geopolitical advantage beyond the wildest dreams of planners a decade ago, and it was not sufficient to offset the Japanese military advantage.
This committee is aware that the budgetary and political realities of the post-Caliphate threat environment are not likely to yield an enormous modernization program. Expected spending reductions have been factored into the conclusions of this report. It is my sincere hope that the Presidium is fully aware of the risk it runs in choosing to turn inwards and consolidate the gains of the Final Brother War. The endless climb is almost at its summit. There are now only two power blocks remaining in the world: the Japanese hegemony, and the Bandung Pact. If Japan wishes to complete the climb- to reach the summit- they will have to go through us.

• FLAG: Republic of Kaabu (Union of African Socialist Republics)
• POPULATION: 1,107,675,171 (~2,500,000,000)
• GDP: $27,197,382,722,168, UASR as a whole
  • based on estimate of GDP per capita similar to China by 2072
• GOVERNMENT: Socialist Federal Republic, Union member republic

I'm about to be a sophomore. I'm attending GSU. So, I lost my Hope because my hope GPA was not above 3.0 (I have 2.9). Would I still get a Pell Grant? Can I take 2 classes per semester, until I bring my hope GPA up and get to 60 hours (rn I have 32 hours) and will it be covered by Pell? Or should I do 3 classes? If not, what are my other options? I don't know how Pell works or how much it gives me for next semester. I'm really scared as I do not have a lot of funds. 'm also working but I'm not getting paid much, I don't have a car so it's hard to get a job that pays well.

I'm about to be a sophomore. So, I lost my Hope because my hope GPA was not above 3.0 (I have 2.9). Would I still get a Pell Grant? Can I take 2 classes per semester, until I bring my hope GPA up and get to 60 hours (rn I have 32 hours) and will it be covered by Pell? Or should I do 3 classes? If not, what are my other options? I don't know how Pell works or how much it gives me for next semester. I'm really scared as I do not have a lot of funds. I'm also working but I'm not getting paid much, I don't have a car so it's hard to get a job that pays well.