So to get out my comfort zone I Decided to attend the conference offline rather online. It was my first time doing presentation in a totally different college, all new people I knew no one there. There were total of 15 participants in each hall I was 14th participant and all while those people were talking i tried all tricks I know to control my breathing and anxiety. I’ve very bad stage fear. I tried doing 5 things you can touch see hear everything after few minutes of desperate trying I calmed myself but then when my turn came I jus did so bad I never spoke the point I was intended to say, never made eye contact. I couldn’t form sentences and there was no clarity in my speech. In the end it became even more awkward with constant pauses, repeating of sentences and saying uh…uhhh… in between the speech. I’m 23F the other candidates were mostly younger than me and they made a very good articulation. Felt so bad about myself I was really embarrassed to be there. I felt like a joke 😔 I don’t know why I can’t speak my mind. P.S: I made two good friends :)) they even got my number and also I appreciated everyone who did well. Overall even though I got my certificate and the experience wasn’t so bad except for the part where I flopped so badly I couldn’t get over it. I feel so ashamed about myself.

#include  #include  #include  #include  #define V_Air_Flow_Rate V2 // define virtual pins V2 for flowrate volume // Define ir sensor pins const int sensor1Pin = D5; // GPIO 5 const int sensor2Pin = D6; // GPIO 4 const int sensor3Pin = D7; // GPIO 0 // Define the variables to hold sensor data float pressureValue = 0; #include  #include  // Define the pins for the pressure sensor #define PIN_OUT D1 // Define the pin for the sensor's OUT #define PIN_SCK D2 // Define the pin for the sensor's SCK // Define flow sensor pins const int flow_sensor = D4; // Define the pin for the flowsensor's /* Comment this out to disable prints and save space */ #define BLYNK_PRINT Serial #define BLYNK_TEMPLATE_ID "TMPL6TFkkUzoJ" #define BLYNK_TEMPLATE_NAME "Quickstart Template" #define BLYNK_AUTH_TOKEN "awU-5enthQqbMq1QF1BFVy0nmLHaPstD" char auth[] = BLYNK_AUTH_TOKEN; // Your WiFi credentials. // Set password to "" for open networks. char ssid[] = "lantak kau "; char pass [] = "123456789"; // Define the LCD address to 0x27 for a 16 chars and 2 line display LiquidCrystal_I2C lcd(0x27, 16, 2); #define BLYNK_RED "D2042D" // for status 'wait' #define BLYNK_ORANGE "FFAC1C" // for status 'good' #define BLYNK_YELLOW "FFEA00" // for status 'moderate' #define BLYNK_BLUE "#0096FF" // for status 'bad' #define Wait 0 #define Good 1 #define Moderate 2 #define Bad 3 unsigned short gusStatusBreath = Wait; unsigned long gulStart_LCD_Timer = 0; unsigned long gulStart_Stay_Timer = 0; unsigned short gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef = 0; unsigned long gulStart_Sensor_Timer = 0; unsigned short gusIsStart_Sensor_Timer_Bef = 0; unsigned short gusSensor_Max_Value = 0; unsigned short gusStatus_Sensor = 0; volatile long pulse; unsigned long lastTime; float Flow_rate; float volume; unsigned long gulStart_Upload_Data_Timer = 0; void setup() { // Initialize serial communication Serial.begin(9600); // Initialize SPI communication SPI.begin(); // Set pin modes for sensor pinMode(PIN_OUT, INPUT); pinMode(PIN_SCK, OUTPUT); // Initialize the LCD lcd.begin(16, 2); lcd.init(); lcd.backlight(); // Initialize sensor pins as input pinMode(sensor1Pin, INPUT_PULLUP); pinMode(sensor2Pin, INPUT_PULLUP); pinMode(sensor3Pin, INPUT_PULLUP); gulStart_LCD_Timer = millis(); lcd.print("Connect to Blynk"); Blynk.begin(auth, ssid, pass); lcd.setCursor(0,1); lcd.print("Done!"); delay(1000); pinMode (flow_sensor, INPUT); attachInterrupt (digitalPinToInterrupt(flow_sensor), increase, RISING); gulStart_Upload_Data_Timer = millis (); } ICACHE_RAM_ATTR void increase() { pulse++; } void loop() { // Read pressure value // pressureValue = readPressure(); // // Print pressure value to serial monitor // Serial.print("Pressure: "); // Serial.print(pressureValue); // Serial.println(" kPa"); // // Read the value from each sensor // int sensor1Value = digitalRead(sensor1Pin); // int sensor2Value = digitalRead(sensor2Pin); // int sensor3Value = digitalRead(sensor3Pin); // // Print the sensor values to the Serial Monitor // Serial.print("Sensor 1: "); // Serial.println(sensor1Value); // Serial.print("Sensor 2: "); // Serial.println(sensor2Value); // Serial.print("Sensor 3: "); // Serial.println(sensor3Value); // // Update the LCD with sensor values // lcd.clear(); // lcd.setCursor(0, 0); // Set the cursor to column 0, line 0 // lcd.print("Pressure: "); // lcd.print(pressureValue); // lcd.print("kPa"); // } // lcd.setCursor(0, 1); // Set the cursor to column 0, line 1 // lcd.print("S1: "); // lcd.print(sensor1Value); // lcd.print(" S2: "); // lcd.print(sensor2Value); // lcd.print(" S3: "); // lcd.print(sensor3Value); // Wait for 1 second before next reading // delay(1000); } // float readPressure() { // // Variables to store the data received from the sensor // unsigned int value = 0; // float pressure = 0; // // Start communication with the sensor // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, HIGH); // delayMicroseconds(10); // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, LOW); // // Read the data from the sensor // for (int i = 0; i < 16; i++) { // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, HIGH); // delayMicroseconds(10); // value = (value << 1) digitalRead(PIN_OUT); // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, LOW); // } // // Convert the raw data to pressure value (in kPa) // pressure = (float)value * 40.0 / 65535.0; // return pressure; // } // put your main code here, to run repeatedly: unsigned short usSensor_Status = 0b00000000; float fFlow_Rate = 0.0; Blynk.run (); fFlow_Rate = fRead_Flow_Rate (); if(fFlow_Rate >0) { if(millis() - gulStart_Upload_Data_Timer >=100) { Blynk.virtualWrite (V_Air_Flow_Rate, fFlow_Rate); gulStart_Upload_Data_Timer = millis (); } } usSensor_Status = usRead_Breath_Status (); //Serial.print ("usSensor_Status: "); //Serial.println (usSensor_Status, BIN); if (gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 0) { if ((usSensor_Status == 0b00000111) (usSensor_Status == 0b00000011) (usSensor_Status == 0b00000001)) { if (usSensor_Status > gusSensor_Max_Value) { gusSensor_Max_Value = usSensor_Status; } if (gusIsStart_Sensor_Timer_Bef == 0) { gulStart_Sensor_Timer = millis (); gusIsStart_Sensor_Timer_Bef = 1; } } if (gusIsStart_Sensor_Timer_Bef == 1) { if((millis()- gulStart_Sensor_Timer)>=1000) { gusStatus_Sensor = gusSensor_Max_Value; } } } //Serial.print ("gusStatus_Sensor: "); //Serial.println (gusStatus_Sensor); if(gusStatus_Sensor == 0b00000111) { if(gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 0) { gusStatusBreath = Good; } } else if(gusStatus_Sensor == 0b00000011) { if(gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 0) { gusStatusBreath = Moderate; } } else if(gusStatus_Sensor == 0b00000001) { if(gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 0) { gusStatusBreath = Bad; } } else { if(gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 0) { gusStatusBreath = Wait; } } //Serial.print ("gusStatusBreath: "); //Serial.println (gusStatusBreath) ; if (gusStatusBreath != Wait) { if(gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 0) { gulStart_Stay_Timer = millis (); gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef = 1; } if(gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef == 1) { unsigned long ulTimeDiff = millis() - gulStart_Stay_Timer; //Serial.print("ulTimeDiff: "); //Serial.print("ulTimeDiff: "); if(ulTimeDiff >= 5000 ) //Reset { gusIsStart_Stay_timer_Bef = 0; gusIsStart_Sensor_Timer_Bef = 0; gusSensor_Max_Value = 0; gusStatus_Sensor = 0; gusStatusBreath = Wait; } } } if(millis() - gulStart_LCD_Timer >= 300) { vLCD_Display (gusStatusBreath); if (gusStatusBreath == Wait) { Blynk.setProperty(V6, "color", BLYNK_RED); Blynk.virtualWrite (V6, 0) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V0, "Wait") ; } else if (gusStatusBreath == Good) { Blynk.setProperty (V6, "color", BLYNK_ORANGE) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V6, 255) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V0, "Good"); } else if (gusStatusBreath == Moderate) { Blynk.setProperty (V6, "color", BLYNK_YELLOW) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V6, 255) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V0, "Moderate"); } else if (gusStatusBreath == Bad) { Blynk.setProperty (V6, "color", BLYNK_BLUE) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V6, 255) ; Blynk.virtualWrite (V0, "Bad"); } gulStart_LCD_Timer = millis(); } } //Formula float fRead_Flow_Rate (void) { Flow_rate = 7.5 * pulse / 1000 * 30; if (millis() - lastTime > 2000) { pulse = 0; lastTime = millis (); } volume=Flow_rate*0.05; //Serial.print (Flow_rate); //Serial.println(" L/m"); Serial.print (volume); Serial.println(" L"); //return Flow_rate; return volume; } void vLCD_Display(unsigned short usStatusBreath) { lcd.clear (); lcd.print ("Status: "); lcd.setCursor (0, 1) ; if (usStatusBreath == Good) { lcd.print("Good"); } else if (usStatusBreath == Moderate) { lcd.print ("Moderate"); } else if (usStatusBreath == Bad) { lcd.print ("Bad"); } else if (usStatusBreath == Wait) { lcd.print ("Wait"); } } unsigned short usRead_Breath_Status (void) { short sStatus = 0b00000000; short sArray_Sen_Pin[3] = {sensor1Pin, sensor2Pin, sensor3Pin}; for (short i = 0; i < 3; i++) { sStatus = sStatus (usRead_Sensor(sArray_Sen_Pin[i]) << i); } return sStatus; } unsigned short usRead_Sensor(short sWhich_Sensor) { if(digitalRead(sWhich_Sensor) == 0) { return 1; } else { return 0; } } // // Read pressure value // pressureValue = readPressure(); // // Print pressure value to serial monitor // Serial.print("Pressure: "); // Serial.print(pressureValue); // Serial.println(" kPa"); // // Read the value from each sensor // int sensor1Value = digitalRead(sensor1Pin); // int sensor2Value = digitalRead(sensor2Pin); // int sensor3Value = digitalRead(sensor3Pin); // // Print the sensor values to the Serial Monitor // Serial.print("Sensor 1: "); // Serial.println(sensor1Value); // Serial.print("Sensor 2: "); // Serial.println(sensor2Value); // Serial.print("Sensor 3: "); // Serial.println(sensor3Value); // // Update the LCD with sensor values // lcd.clear(); // lcd.setCursor(0, 0); // Set the cursor to column 0, line 0 // lcd.print("Pressure: "); // lcd.print(pressureValue); // lcd.print("kPa"); // lcd.setCursor(0, 1); // Set the cursor to column 0, line 1 // lcd.print("S1: "); // lcd.print(sensor1Value); // lcd.print(" S2: "); // lcd.print(sensor2Value); // lcd.print(" S3: "); // lcd.print(sensor3Value); // Wait for 1 second before next reading // delay(1000); // float readPressure() { // // Variables to store the data received from the sensor // unsigned int value = 0; // float pressure = 0; // // Start communication with the sensor // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, HIGH); // delayMicroseconds(10); // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, LOW); // // Read the data from the sensor // for (int i = 0; i < 16; i++) { // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, HIGH); // delayMicroseconds(10); // value = (value << 1) digitalRead(PIN_OUT); // digitalWrite(PIN_SCK, LOW); // } // // Convert the raw data to pressure value (in kPa) // pressure = (float)value * 40.0 / 65535.0; // return pressure; // } 

Long story short: Otis was my baby and he had terminal cancer (and a heart condition) and was losing function and quality of life rapidly this past week. As soon as it went into a range where he was just lying there, breathing fast, not much interest in the usual things, including food and water, we let him go. Logically I knew it was coming, and didn't want to make him suffer or selfishly keep him around languishing through bad days, but somehow I thought I'd be ok eventually.
I've had months to know this was coming (ever since diagnosis, and then palliative amputation to get him out of pain for however long he had left so we could spoil him nonstop), and then it was over too soon and I wish a few things had gone differently at the very end (but with the vet there, and my husband, etc, it was hard to not leave Otis's side to oversee some minor details -- like adding special sweetener to his saucer of milk that he drank while getting the sedation shot, or having the meats I'd prepped right there, since he finished his milk so fast and I wanted him distracted and eating instead of feeling the pinch). Anyway, i can't face tomorrow and I don't know how to process this. I just want my baby back.
(Longer story below, and it's of course not even close to everything . Sorry so long, I can't even get my thoughts straight- this all just happened 8 hours ago)
Otis was my little 9 pound baby. My shadow. My love bug. I can't put into words our bond and love, but I know many on here get it. He simply wasn't "a dog" he was my baby
Once we knew it was time, It all happened a little faster than I expected, and a few details about his final treats of steak and chicken and milk got a little muddled bc my husband stepped in to get those so I could hold Otis's head and hand the whole time. I know it's also my grief making me upset that I couldn't make it exactly as planned, but he went peacefully and it went well, considering.
We told him how much we loved him, what a sweet baby he is, what a good boy he is, and i got to hold his hand as he left us and then hold him one last time. I couldn't believe I was saying goodbye. I tried (not very successful) to not cry until after he was gone, and just love him and soothe him and not stress him out. He was the best boy. My baby. My soul dog.
When his heart stopped I couldn't breathe. Shaking, holding my breath, beyond thoughts or words.
I knew he had terminal cancer for the last 3 months and thought somehow that I could handle this - I'd been processing it this whole time and made every day count even more than usual - but I feel so empty and lost and guilty and devastated. We thought we'd have longer, too. The decline happened so fast, just 2 months after his surgery.
I feel like I let this happen to him. I feel like I wanted the appt to be a little different in some ways. I need to get over those details. We didn't want him to suffer anymore. As much as we thought we made the call before it was too late, I'm sure he spent many days and hours feeling bad. He didn't deserve any of this.
I want to see him tomorrow morning, snorting and oinking and meowing and making all his weird noises, and licking my face all over. I want my baby back

What do I do? I feel stuck, I love him but I feel like I'm a worse, sadder version of myself when I'm with him sometimes. I have dealt with some family issues with him and he has been with me through so much (throughout 7 years), I've been so stressed from college and family, he's been my rock. He knows every stupid thing I've done in the past, and for the first 2 years would make me feel bad for my past decisions I made as a lonely mentally and physically desperate teen that was used by boys. All I wanted was to be seen and wanted but I was used as an object since middle school until I met Him at 18. I regret the decisions I made and felt so embarrassed that he knew EVERYTHING. I'm not very sexually driven, but he is and I feel like he guilt trips me into doing things I'm not in the mood for.. but I've been raised as a people pleaser so I'm not sure if I'm just making myself feel like I have to or because he was visually express his disappointment until 75% of the time give into it to make him not sad.
We talked about this before and he has told me I never have to do it of I don't want to, but I can tell bt his facial expressions and body language that he actually doesn't care. I say this as I've seen and noticed how, I mentioned to him how much I read into facial expression, yet since then, I have never seen him so persistent by showing me how sad he is that I don't want to give him pleasure. And the second i say, i’ll do it or start something, he would get so excited and happy. Or am i reading too much into it?
I love our deep conversations about life and how we love to watch and analyze movies that have deeper meanings, but I feel like he doesn't value some of my ideas or opinions, trying to correct me on a thought I had or out do me. Sometimes I feel like he tries to attack my intelligence due to how easy it is and how self conscious I am.
I grew up having an optimistic outlook on life, especially due to trying to keep my family happy and make the most out of the time I had with my dad due to his constant deployments throughout my childhood. There's no time to be sad, we need to cherish and make the most out of the time we have with each other. But since being with Him, I've felt a shadow of darkness on my outlook on life. He grww up with a pessimistic outlook, but he was so much happier when we started dating. When I try to lighten the mood, he somehow dampens the room, creating my tries of positivity into, what's the point of trying. I enjoy seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I never planned on changing him, but why does he want to change me? I get so excited over the little things, I feel so overjoyed by things like seeing hummingbirds close up to literally anything, but I feel like he makes fun of me for it. I love giving people compliments, from their nails to their stripped pants. It gives me the biggest smile to see their face light up. But why do i feel like I can't be myself around Him? I feel like I'm too much and have to calm down so he doesn't judge me or look at me with a condescending look.
I understand that we need to feel sadness from time to time, but there's something about picking out the little things that gives me thr biggest smile.
I told him how I feel about how certain things make me feel. I'm a emotionally sensitive person and I will cry for making him feel bad. I've never been so anxious in my life, I know college took a lot out of me, but what made it harder was how controlled I felt by Him. I made no friends, I've always had trouble making friends but the people I would find similarities with were with men. Of course. I never had so many similarities with someone before and it was so nice to talk to someone I had stuff in common with. My bf and I don't have many things in common other than our perspectives of the future and our time spent together, but there are those little things like food and music or interests and hobbies.. im always open to His interests and would always show interest in what he likes, but I don't see him trying for me most of the time
But due to my past with guys, my bf doesn't like it when I talk to men, in general. I have never cheated on him and he always tells me I better not, even though I would NEVER CHEAT. I never approach men, or start conversations with them. But when I have to for class or work, I'm scared to tell him. I hate seeing him upset or angry. One time I had to be in a group with a guy, and he was literally me. I did not see ANY romance in our conversations, we were copies of each other from our interests to our childhood experiences. I was so nice to talk to him about our love of history, but I could never see me with him in any way more than that, copies. Does that make any sense? I meant to tell my bf about him but my fear his reaction stopped me. I know I should have, and my fear of conflict is no excuse for lying to him or not telling him about my group partner. My bf found out and he doesn't trust me. He randomly checks my phone and I feel like I deserve it, I do. I led myself here. I blocked the partner after the project was finished and I'm a terrible person for what I did to my Bf and the team member.
We started dating at the end of junior year and I was not planning on going to college with a bf. He followed me and hated the idea of long distance. My dream was to go to a college out of state and so that's what we did, together. I love him, he knows what makes me happy and we, almost, have the same humor. But I didn't imagine how stressful college was going to be with someone who never fully trusted you since the beginning. I don't know how to view this relationship.
This not at all me blaming him for anything. I've been thinking about how different I feel and have felt for years and I'm scared. I'm scared of change and disappointment. I have made my decisions and I have to live with them, I put myself in these situations and I tell myself I control my own life. I've been taking deeper dives in how I function and I'm scared im in a relationship that I won't be happy in. I say all of this but when I look into his eyes, all I see is my baby and his laughs brighten my days, but when I'm away from him, I feel like I can breathe unless some guy sits next to me in a class or talks to me at work. I love talking to people and with the place I work at, I feel alive around my coworkers. I have never felt a romantic interest in a guy but the second I mention him to my bf, he stares at me like I cheated on him.
I've been viewed attractive throughout these past few years, and I when I wear makeup he asks me why do I look this good and who are you trying to impress. No one, NO ONE I'm so TIRED of those words! I'm so sick of them because I do my makeup for my own pleasure, I love winged eyeliner and highlighter, I love how long my eyelashes get with mascara, but I will never wear makeup for the purpose to impress others, unless it's girls that wear winged liner too, I love talking to then about the brand they use and sharing tips and tricks. But we've discussed this so many times that it makes me sick. I understand but I don't understand why he keeps asking me this
We've talked about how he's been feeling more insecure lately due to his weight gain, but I ALWAYS give him reinsurance that I love him and will be by his side through this Rollercoaster we call living.
I'm all over the place. And my head hurts thinking about it all the time.
We don't live with each other but have planned to for years, and once I saved enough, we are, I'm excited and have wanted this for so long. But I like having my own space. I've always wanted my own place, my own kitchen, living room, just a place I control and manage with my things that make me feel brighter and optimistic, but I'm scared He's going to ruin it.
If anyone reads this, wow, I'm sorry. I've never told a soul this because I don't have money for a therapist (but I'll be getting insurance soon so I hope I can find one this year) and I need someone out there to just see and maybe comment on it. I'm so lost. Am I in love? I was, or was I ever in real love. I know I was and I'm. My feelings are so strong, I can't deal with them half of the time. I know I've made mistakes, trust me, I think about them too much to not feel ashamed all the time, but should I feel ashamed, I do. I've never cried so much I will say that. I'm sorry, I keep typing because I don't know what to do!
This was nice to get out. Thank you and goodnight

(F19, 5’1, 135lbs) so about a week ago i came down with a cold. it wasn’t too bad at all and it was super short. it started with a sore throat then developed into a headache and a stuffy nose. i just overall felt sick. that only lasted for about 2 days and i was feeling almost 100% better. well, about 2 days after feeling perfectly fine, i’ve developed a deep chest pain (worsens when coughing and laughing), mucus in my throat that i have to constantly clear up, an occasional runny nose, and scratchy throat. i’m not having throat pain, chest tightness, wheezing, a fever, or a cough. did my cold develop into a chest cold or is it something more serious?

i’m at work right now and i’ve started to feel bad. i feel nauseous and very weak, a little shaky.
i’m pretty sure my nausea and weakness is due to hunger and low blood sugar because i’ve been ignoring my stomach growling for four hours now. i also woke up at 5 starving but i just had a biscuit to shut my stomach up so i could go back to sleep. i’m not sick to my stomach and id be able to eat so i know i’m likely ok.
yes, the simple answer is to just eat something but i avoid doing this at work because unfortunately i suffer with rcpd and am always even more nauseous and experience chest and abdominal pain after eating which is something i’m not equipped to deal with whilst running a shop on my own. i’m having to pick the lesser of two evils right now.
trouble is i’ve started to get anxious and now i feel super ill and want to gag. i really don’t know what to do? i’ve got 4 hours of my shift left and feel so rubbish!
i also dreamt about stomach bugs so that’s pissed me off lol.
wtf do i do?? i cant go home because A) i’ll get fired B) i cant get home without a lift and don’t have that.
someone just tell me i’ll get through this and some advice if you have any?!

So basically there is this nearly 30yo guy. We met at work, where we have seen each others like 2-3 times. He reached me out recently by a text.
Basically he is almost daily asking how im i doing or how is work etc. He kind of has implied pretty clearly he has somewhat interest in me. I try to take conversation to somewhere by telling about my day or plans etc and asking questions from him, but his answers are 99% of the time something such as "it was ok" or "im fine". Sometimes if i ask enough questions there might be some small details like he was fishing but that is that.
Aand this makes me confused as fuck. Is he just bad at texting or is he just not that into me? I kind of want to ask him out, but this habit gives me feeling he is not really interested after all. I also makes me feel im just interupting his life when im the one who starts talking.
I swear im not good at this either and this gives me headache cause i think he was nice when me met and i would love to know him better.
Should i give up?

First of all hi everyone my English isn’t great. But I was diagnosed with sjogrens with a normal AnA and all other autoimmune tests . The test that diagnosed me was the lip biopsy but could it be something else? I have had no dry eyes or dry mouth. I only have neurological/neuromuscular symptoms. Muscle weakness, twitching, muscle loss, fatigue and bad breathing problems. I have been seeing like 10 different specialists since 2022 with no answers to my symptoms other than sjogrens and small fiber neuropathy. I was afraid for ALS kinda still am . What do yall think it could be and any recommendations are greatly appreciated thanks!

I'm writing this while having tears running down my face from both anger and sadness...I'm still friends with the first person who became my first friend in preschool. We've been through so much things together... And even though we aren't related by blood it's literally like we're real brothers. And I always looked up to him because he always had initiative.
We always had to stick up for ourselves since our parents weren't really present most of the time due to having to work 2 jobs (we both lived in a low income neighborhood) so we were the ones fending for our own selves. We grew up learning all kinds of things to survive since cash was always scarce.
But about 2 years ago, my friend found some kind of method to make a way for us. I tried asking how he did it but at the time he wouldn't get too deep into the topic so I never understood how he managed to show up with all those stacks. Nonetheless we were living a completely different life, we were buying all sorts of things and hiding those things in a rented apartment (we couldn't just take them home like that). And. so. much. more.
Fast forward to this thursday... I've finally found out the method he uses... And I'm feeling destroyed inside to discover that my friend is engaging in unethical acts... We've always been really religious and we know that God cannot bless those who walk along the shadow but he still chose to walk that path. And that has been messing with my mind since...
It's true that he's changed a lot of people's lives since then... it's true the cash made us become alive and feel life like never before... it's true that it does make a difference... but at the same time I can't stop feeling that success is created upon lies and bad acts.
But at the same time... that's my brother... he's always been there for me man! I'm so mad at this that I can barely breath. I'm so depressed... I've barely eaten since... I wanted to vent with other people but I didn't feel anyone would understand this so I just came here...
I hate how these methods of getting rich are brainwashing people by making them successful by tantalizing them with unethical acts... I hate that Crypto Swift thing and I hate all of these stupid ways to get rich. God is the only way to find true success.
I just need to find an answer. What should I do to solve this? pls I just want my brother back...

Trigger warning: self-degrading; comparing oneself, taking relationship with F/O at an extreme face value, controlling
I want to make it clear that I’m not (exactly) asking for help on this, I’m already receiving help for many things and I plan to for this, too. I just want to vent about my crippling feelings and outlook for F/O with a community that revolves around folks who have feelings for fictional characters and the impacts it has. Maybe someone else here can relate and feel seen or heard. Putting this on a throwaway.
“You’re not F/O’s type,” “You wouldn’t be the first choice,” “You know F/O wouldn’t love or get with you,” “F/O’s not real,” “Fanon > Canon F/O!“ “I love shipping F/O x canon!” Yeah. I know.
I’ve loved him for over a year. He’s the most influential and powerful F/O I’ve ever had in my young (16-18) life so far. He’s given me strength, something to care and love as profoundly as I do when I’ve lost hope in the real world from everything I’ve been through. Yet after all this time, all the changes I went through, I still am deeply, deeply bothered with almost anything correlating to him.
Does he have traits I never expected of him? I have mixed feelings on him. Specific headcanons? Annoyed. What about relationships with other characters? Especially implied feelings? My mood is ruined. He’s not real, he’d never love you the way you want him to, and you’d not be his first choice? (You’re inferior to him and any love interests or ships; they’re all better than you.) It can take me days to go back to feeling better. I’m sorry, but the lengths of impact it has on me goes beyond things I wish to dive deeper into; “bad” is an understatement.
It’s like I have an urge to go back to my old habits and control my partner, the relationship, other people. But I do what I can to resist; because that’s not right. Regardless, what’s left behind is this extremely painful, especially physically, hollowing feeling of sorrow in my chest.
Denying the reality that he’s fictional wouldn’t feel right. Him being fictional is what makes the relationship feel special unlike anything else. But being told, “he’s with you, now! You’re the one he chose. In another universe, you two are together!” Doesn’t help ease any pain. In my eyes and beliefs: no. He hasn’t chosen me, he’s not with me; he’s fictional. He literally can’t consent or not consent, tell me his real feelings about my situation, me.
Our relationship is 100% without a doubt, one-sided. It’s like dating a celebrity but they have no idea about you; like I’m some parasocial stalker. I am willing to believe that yes, there is a chance he’d chose me (due to some of his choices being player-oriented), but I wouldn’t be his first. Especially since he meets others way before me—a living, breathing human—that catch his eye in source. That is a fact. In my heart, I wish to treat him as if he were physical, but my mind knows it cannot deny the truth.
Any time I feel horrible about this, I just consume more of him to feel better. Greed, gluttonous, obsessed. Anything of the sort. I haven’t lost sight on why I love him as profoundly as I do, but jealousy and inferiority does, in a way.
Maybe I’m being too harsh on myself and have severe low self-esteem. Maybe I’ve gone too deep into escapism all my life. I’m probably projecting with a clouded mindset rather than remembering how he is as a person. But I want our relationship to be transparent for what it is in this universe, this reality. I’m sorry for rambling or for anything that was “too much said,” but I can’t keep any of this bottled for another year or however long.

“Most people tell you they want to get out of kindergarten, but don’t believe them. Don’t believe them! All they want you to do is to mend their broken toys. "Give me back my wife. Give me back my job. Give me back my money. Give me back my reputation, my success." This is what they want; they want their toys replaced. That’s all. Even the best psychologist will tell you that, that people don’t really want to be cured. What they want is relief; a cure is painful.
Waking up is unpleasant, you know. You are nice and comfortable in bed.”

• Anthony De Mello

Waking up isn’t easy. It is the most difficult journey that you, pure awareness, will ever embark on. Why? Because it is a complete and utter surrender of everything you internally cherish. It is a death to the false sense of self. It is a death to the belief in the reality of matter. It is the chopping down of the tree of good and evil 🌳. Let me explain.
You see? Maya is a trickster. A hypnotic master. We all come here and we write about the bad things that Maya projects in our mind. We rave against poverty, racism, hunger, judging others, and other evils.
But while it’s easy to rave against the bad parts of the great illusion called Maya. We forget that Maya also dangles the carrot 🥕 of good illusions. Maya is a tree of good and evil. It also promises you shiny toys. Maya says….

• Wake up and money will no longer be an issue
• Wake up and then you can easily attract the love of your life.
• Wake up and then you can meet some lifelong friends that will understand you and care for you.

See that’s the trick of Maya. It dangles both good and evil. It gives you something that it internally labels as good, then as you become attached to it….it pulls the rug from under you and takes it away.
If it doesn’t take it away, just a simple threat of it being taken away keeps you trapped in the game. That’s what anxiety is - Maya gave you a cherished gift, a cherished idea, a cherished position…Then all of a sudden, Maya threatens this cherished gift and now you are anxious. “I must protect this gift” you think to yourself….completely disregarding the fact that the gift in itself was an illusion the whole time.
That is why my writings is for the advanced surrenderer, those who are ready to chop down the tree of good and evil to reveal the tree of life 🕉️. If you are still in this to get some sort of baubles, trinkets, or other “good” carrots that Maya dangles; then please discard anything that I write about. If you’re ready to leave the Matrix, to leave Maya, then continue reading because…..

• Until you can firmly say to the guy offering you a billion dollars that he can keep his money and that you’re perfectly ok with the present moment.
  
• Until you can tell the hot woman, not today I think I’ll just take a nap.
  
• Until you can tell society. Keep your fame and kudos, they are meaningless anyways.
  
• Until you can tell depression, there’s noone here to be depressed.
  

Then the illusion still has a hold on you. You still believe that Maya can offer you something.
I am not perfect and I too I’m learning to return to Self, to my original nature. But at least for today, I can confidently tell Maya “Nah I’m chill with your gifts. I know your tricks and I will not be hypnotized by them”. Namaste 🪔

Hi, so, I've been trying to figure out my MBTI for a while now and initially I thought INFP before realizing that was painfully wrong. I've since figured I'm an xNTP. Now I just need to figure out which I am between the two.
Points foagainst Inferior Fe (or Tertiary)
• Enjoy bringing up certain topics to mess with people and make entertaining conversations (A burrito is a sandwich, salsa could in theory be a spaghetti sauce, a questionable game me and my friends played the others weren't there for, etc.) • Bad at empathizing with people (This is mostly because I get uncomfortable dealing with other people's emotions and tend to just joke around) • Bad at "reading" people (This may because I'm neurodivergent but I struggle to understand people's secret motives and whatnot) • I am socially illiterate while at the same time not being socially illiterate (I have to observe my surroundings first if I want to fit in and blend in but I am generally good at navigating social situations once I have a minute to adjust and examine the environment.) • When it comes to the few things I find personal (like my music tastes) I am very against sharing them, I don't want to be judged for it, but once I feel comfortable enough with the people I am more open to sharing things I consider more sensitive information about myself. • My sense of humor can be all sorts of things but I tend to follow what other people are going with or describe it as "twelve year old boy" humor. I am historically very quotable. There are two separate discord friend groups I am in where things I have said make up a decent 75-90% of the whores chat. • I can tend to see people more as amusement and temporary ways to ease my boredom than friends, when I was (again,) in school I would befriend a person for classes I wouldn't be able to use my phone in because otherwise I'd be really bored. Took until senior year and a D&D party to have actual friends I liked and actually did spend time with outside of school. • When I was a kid I lied a lot but I was pretty shit at it so I stopped and I'm still a bad liar in the present day. I just tell the truth most of the time because I don't see a point in lying.
Points foagainst Inferior Si (or Tertiary)
• Ignoring my body functions until I literally can't (As a kid I would hold in my pee and ignore it because I had other things I wanted to do more until I was crouching on the floor holding it in. Also have ignored my hunger and thirst for similar reasons or because it would "take too long") • Enjoy specific comfort foods/shows (However I might plan to have/watch them and will just not do them. No clue why, I just never get to it) • Bad with routines (I try to set up routines and plans and they just fall apart, the only way to get myself to do anything is if it's NOT planned and I don't on a whim.) • I use past information I've learned and collect it all to use for my arguments when I'm debating with someone to make a logical explanation for why I'm right (using analogies or similar situations to the point I'm trying to support or random pieces of information that, again, support my point.) • I don't really get sentimental about things usually but randomly if big changes occur I get super upset and pissy about it (Ripping up the floors in my childhood home might make me upset or annoyed. I get over it pretty quickly, though.) • I am not very organized. During schooling I shoved all of my school items I received into my backpack and just called it a day, at best I usually put the things connected to each other (such as AP Gov packets) together but that was about the extent of it. • Hated when I was forced to organize things and organize my files because I figured I would literally never use it and I didn't • Sometimes will randomly get a spark of inspiration like once a year and will organize my dresser and actually not shove everything in there for once • I am really terrible organizing things on my own, even these bullet points. Only reason I'm doing it like this is someone said, "Hey, put this into ChatGPT to make it easier to read" and I went, "Good Idea" so I did and it got put into bullet points and it was way easier to read.
Thanks for the help, everyone. Much appreciated.

Tldr - experience with Ursodiol? Or other alternative methods to avoid removal? I'm so anxious to do it 😩 😫 😪
I went to the hospital for the first time experiencing the pain we are all too familiar with - I was scared. Thought it was heart related. Had an aggressive and painful ultrasound and was told I had a gallstone - or maybe they said, stoneS - I honestly can't remember.
For the past 12 years I had developed a regime when I experience a 'flare up'.
The pain is so bad (as I'm sure you know) I HAD to figure out a way to deal with it.
My go to when woken up with the pain was a shot of Apple Cider Vinager(yes its gross, I plug my nose!), a couple of ibuprofen, and immediately SLEEP. None of it worked if I didn't sleep. But there was never a time it didn't work. I woke up back to normal everytime.
I'd say over the past several years it has been necessary to have implemented this regimine between 10 & 20 times.
There has always been a considerable amount going on in life that makes tracking so difficult so give or take any amount. I've been dealing with it so long its just apart of life at this point I guess...
A week ago, I had a massive attack - so incredibly painful breathing was a struggle, there was no relief to be found.. it went on for 34hrs straight, just writhing in agony until I finally increased to 4 ibuprofen and got enough relief to sleep and I slept on and off for a couple days - it never went away just lessened but sleeping was helping get through it.
It felt so different than I was used to that I honestly thought it had to be something else but it being a holiday weekend the er was packed and the wait was several hours long just to get in and I have to bring my kids so I was doing my best to wait it out. Moaning around at home was far more appealing than a crowded waiting room for hours..
Finally after a couple days I went to hospital because while considerably better, still not complete improvement.. so 12hrs later, one CT and a bag of fluids later I was let out with the only answer being a stone and a referral to follow up with the surgeon and a prescription for Ursodial for 10 days.
I've continued with ACV a couple times a day but basically am on bedrest. I ate my first bit of food yesterday - a graham cracker and a couple more today but basically I'm sleeping on and off and taking ibuprofen and haven't eaten in days (besides a cracker with the ibuprofen and Ursodiol)
Sometimes I think the pain I still have is from hunger because it's relieved with drinks of ice water as it coats its way down..
But am I just at the point of no return? I was really willing to throw it all in and live on lemons and try to get this thing shrunk enough to get out.. I also was reading about soundwaves or other treatments and this is the first time I'd heard of this medication they gave me - I started reading about it during my hours in the hospital bed and was planning to ask about it but he offered it up so I didn't have to.. I really want to stick it out - I have medical -related ptsd and an anxiety disorder, heds, I'm Autistic, an only parent, totally on my own, I have no friends and in a new city hours away from anyone I've ever known - and surgery is just so massive anyway.. if there is any other way I'd like to be trying thay first..
Idk I guess I just need to talk it out more.. get some kind of support. It's just so hard to be on loop of all the thoughts I've got going around..
But its never lasted this long and I am struggling..

Looking for a book that I had when I was in high school in the mid-90s. I remember the book being small, hardback, and having a turquoise cover. I feel like I read a review somewhere like the old Sassy magazine (I've tried looking at old issues book reviews but haven't found it). All of the stories were about teen girls, many of them a little awkward, so it had a coming-of-age vibe but I remember loving it because it was actually relatable. I remember one story having something to do with a girl getting a candy-red watch, and another had a girl having an awkward first kiss with a guy with thick eyebrows and bad breath. I only have these little wisps of specific memories, but I have a deep sense of this book feeling like I'd found something really special, and I read it over and over. It was the way My So Called Life was like a lightning bolt of a pop culture that really felt like it was capturing how I was feeling. We moved right after high school so a lot of my stuff didn't end up with me, and here I am in my 40s trying to find a book I loved but can't remember the name of! Greatly appreciate any leads!!

[INDEX]
I banked the fire and stared into the golden eyes of Beatale before I crept into my makeshift tent.
I still had my auric vision running and couldn’t help but notice the thin silver cord that ran from me to Horse. Firming up my aura, I reached out with my hand and grabbed it. I could feel the nearly imperceptible vibration between my fingers as I used my mind to probe at the thread. I could feel a bright spark of intellect, a light at the end of a tunnel. Pushing with my mind, I slid down the thread until the spark grew larger and eventually filled my inner vision with a hazy white light. Horsey thoughts nudged at me curiously.
I slid into the haze and immediately lost all sense of direction. If it wasn’t for the silver thread, I’d have no idea how to exit this shifting white fog. Horsey thoughts got stronger as I followed the thread while the haze thinned and cleared to reveal an endless prairie of green grass. I found myself standing before a naked man wearing a horse mask and I stared in shock. It was obviously me wearing a cheap costume horse mask — there was no mistaking my tattoos.
“What did you expect?” Horse neighed at me. “I am you and you are me and we are all together. Goo goo ga joob.”
Horse made a shooing motion with his hands and I accelerated backwards through the white haze and slammed into my own body with a gasp. I stared at the tarp overhead for a long minute, processing this new revelation. Horse was a part of me, a piece of my spirit. Whatever psychic stuff I did with that silver cord lead me into a house of mirrors where I got to look at myself pretending to be a horse. I can’t even deal with that right now.
Rolling into my blankets, I dropped off to sleep.
*Ding*
-=- - Welcome to the Dreamworld - Included in the Psychic Skills pack, the Inner Sanctum is your psychic domain. It is the mental fortress that you must secure and maintain to defend against psychic and spiritual assaults. All of your neurosis and fears are symbolised in this realm and must be defeated or subjugated before you can become master of the domain. Good luck. -=-
I banished the pop-up and looked around. I knew I was asleep, but everything was just as real as when I was awake. I was breathing, I could feel the floor under my feet, and if it weren’t for the pop-up, I would have sworn I had been teleported. The room I was in resembled an oversized luxury prison cell, maybe a thirty foot cube. No windows. Rough stone walls with thick mortar. Large brass wall sconces were set directly into the stone and suffused the room with a warm, golden light provided by glowing rocks. The stone floor had colourful Persian rugs tastefully placed. A high plaster ceiling was painted with a rendition of Michelangelo’s ‘Creation of Adam’, depicting me as both Adam and God.
There was a comfy sofa in front of a large screen television that hung from one wall and an ornate grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner. It was currently 10:08 PM. Another wall was a floor to ceiling bookshelf, stuffed with books of varying sizes. The third wall was covered with pictures and I could see at a glance that they were images from my life. The fourth wall had a thick riveted steel door on the right side, a full sized mirror on the left, and a computer workstation in the middle.
The picture wall was my first target. A few were quite large, nearly life sized, while others were tiny prints no larger than the palm of my hand. Scenes of my life were displayed in each one. The largest was me riding Horse with a shit-scared expression, shooting at a pack of wolves. Others were smaller, each with different frames. Some ornate gold or silver, others plain wood, a few wrapped in briars or barbed wire. Nanny Ramsey holding me as a young child. My dog Jean with a red ball in his mouth. My parents, screaming at me. I turned my attention to the books. Books are safe. Books don’t judge you.
The sweet, musty scent of a used book store filled my nostrils as I drew close to the honey coloured shelves. Hundreds of volumes filled the wall from floor to ceiling, with a ladder that could be rolled along a rail to access the top. I smiled at the sight. I had always wanted a library like this. I pulled a book at random and read the title, “Confused Fantasies about Joseph Harris, part XXIV of the Middle School Years”.
I slid the book back onto the shelf. Let’s see what’s on TV.
The remote was a slim, futuristic looking affair with a minimum of buttons. I pointed it at the television and moments later the huge screen came to life and presented me with a simple menu for movies, divided into six categories: Happy, Surprised, Afraid, Disgusted, Angry, and Sad. I scrolled through the offerings for a minute, reading the titles and reviews about the movies of my life. It really bothered me that there were so few selections in the Happy section.
The number of Sad movies increased by one.
I walked over to the mirror and noticed there was a small sticky note pasted to it. “Astral Realm. Experienced users only.” I shoved the note in my pocket and stared at my image. Sturdy black boots, black denim jeans and shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons, deep brown gun belt slung at my hip, red bandanna and black felt hat. All I needed was a pencil moustache and I would look like the stereotypical villain in any spaghetti western. At that very moment I decided to grow out a goatee. I’d rather be mistaken for a bad guy than a victim.
So how does this astral realm thing work?
The mirror appeared to be nothing more than a mirror. It was cold, smooth glass surrounded by a wrought iron frame, and reflected my image. I didn’t necessarily want to go walking into danger, but I wanted to know how it worked. I pushed and prodded the glass in frustration until I noticed my image grinning at me. I jumped back in surprise and it doubled over in silent laughter.
“Hilarious, dude. You got me,” I huffed. “So how do I get in?”
My mirror-self tipped his hat and stepped to side.
I reached up to the mirror again and my hand passed through, vanishing as if cut off. Okay, just a quick peek and we’ll explore the rest of the room. I stepped through and the world shifted around me. I was standing back at the campsite. My body was insubstantial as a ghost and the tarp was a wisp of substance running straight through me. Non living things don’t seem to have much presence in this realm. Glancing down, I saw my sleeping body rolled up in the blankets, a thin silver thread running from it to me, and another thread running to Horse.
Looking around, I surveyed the campsite. My astral vision seemed to be on and had an unlimited range. I could see the life all around me, the distant forest was a sea of greenish-gold, grasses and brush nearby glowed with spectral light. Tiny ghost insects scurried while ghost mice nibbled at whatever ghost mice nibble on. Ghost seeds and ghost insects, I suppose. I turned my attention overhead and gaped at the sight of a monstrous serpentine spirit flying through the inky void. I dropped back through the tent and rolled inside my body. That was plenty enough for now.
I rolled through the mirror and landed flat on my back, staring at the fresco on the ceiling. Vinnie-God winked at me and Vinnie-Adam grinned. Climbing to my knees, I brushed non-existent dust from my trousers and watched mirror-me doubled over in soundless laughter.
“Hey, laughing-boy!” I yelled at him. “You’re like the guardian or something, right? You got it covered?”
Mirror-me stood and saluted with a smile, then gave me two thumbs up. A moment later, his face took on a serious expression and he wriggled his right hand in the ‘maybe’ motion. Then he pointed at me, tapped his wrist, and then a finger to his head.
It all depends on how fast I learn stuff, I guess.
Two thumbs up and a winning smile reflected back to me.
A large cork board was mounted to the wall over the computer and a small note was pinned to it. “Note to self: Don’t fuck with the Elvish womens.”
The computer screen featured a screensaver of me as Vitruvian Man doing callisthenics over the words ‘HumanOS’. I tapped the spacebar and was rewarded with the sound of powerful fans kicking to life as the computer emerged from sleep mode and prompted me for a password. Should I assume it’s the same as the password on the computer I pawned in my previous life?
Password: *******esi
I was rewarded with a sweet R&M desktop and a couple of icons. System, NeuralNet, My-Tunes, My-Movies, My-Office.
System was just what I expected, lots of .dna files and other confusing scariness that allowed me to tweak my physical body and mental state. My-Tunes was a collection of every song I’d ever heard and My-Movies was a collection of every movie I’d ever seen. Not that I’m complaining, but it would have been nice to have “My-Games” so I could play RDR. My-Office was a clone of the popular software by a similar name. I have no idea what I’ll ever need a spreadsheet for in this world.
NuralNet opened up a search engine called Me-Seeks, featuring a familiar blue guy.
I typed in “beer” and several thousand results were displayed, anything I’d ever read, heard, or watched about beer, including how to make it. This right here made the price of admission totally worth it, access to an exact copy of everything I’d ever read, and I was a voracious reader. Sadly, most of the stuff I read was futurology — solar panels, electronics, biotech advancements, quantum computing. The material for steam engines, blacksmithing, farming and the like, were slim pickings. That’s okay though, I could still reproduce the Gutenberg press, the cotton gin, simple internal combustion engines, and basic batteries along with some sketchy knowledge of metal alloys, acids, bases, and other things I had read over the years. All that wasted time watching “How Things Work” was finally going to pay off. I copied a few likely money makers to My-Office, saved the file, and exported to my Notes, just in case they didn’t exist on Aerth.
A popup covered the screen.
📱 [New Upgrade Available!] 📱
🎉 Enhance Your Experience with the Latest HumanOS Features! 🎉
🌟 Features Include:

• 🧠 Memory Booster: Increase your Memory for smoother multitasking and improved performance.
• 🔋 Energy Optimizer: Extend your battery life with advanced power-saving techniques.
• 🛠️ Utility Upgrades: Access new apps and utilities to enhance your daily life and adventures.
• 🗺️ Advanced Mapping: Never get lost again with enhanced GPS and location tracking.

🔥 Special Offer: Only 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0! 🔥
[Upgrade Now ✅] [Remind Me Later ❌]
Apparently I could upgrade myself, which reduced the cost of using my Utilities while providing other minor benefits. My Utilities would level up as I used them, which would increase their battery cost, so if I didn’t keep pace with an update to the OS they could become prohibitively expensive to operate.
Stupid pay-to-win world.
So, do I pay 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0?
I selected version 3.0 and klicked [Install]. After watching it download the update, it popped up another screen that asked if I wanted to update now, or wait until Midnight for the mandatory update.
I selected [No] just as the grandfather clock chimed 10:30 PM. I wondered if time ran slower in here, because it seemed like I had spent a lot more time on the computer than 15 minutes. Walking over to the imposing steel door, I noticed a bronze key with a thin chain in the lock. There was another sticky note on the door. “Subconscious. Please keep the key with you at all times.”
That’s not scary at all, is it?
I unlocked the door with a loud clunk and pulled it open to reveal a bedroom straight out of some royal castle. I could tell immediately that it had seen better days. The tapestries on the wall were frayed and fading. The canopy over the bed had a few holes in it. A thin layer of dust covered the mantle of a small fireplace set into the wall. There was a window letting in bright sunlight and I moved over to look outside.
I was on the third floor of a keep surrounded by the walls and turrets of a modest castle. A castle that had fallen into serious disrepair. Did this represent the state of my inner mind? One tower was shattered and the curtain wall under it damaged. The lower bailey was full of litter. I could see a few soldiers walking around the allure, keeping watch.
I have people in my subconscious?
Someone behind me cleared their throat.
Whirling, I discovered a familiar old man standing in the door of the bedroom. What was left of his hair formed a white halo around his head, his face was unshaven and covered with several days of growth. He was dressed like a poor and tattered manservant, but carried himself with a dignified air.
“Woodhouse?”
“It’s nice to see the master at home,” He said with a proper English accent. “There are many matters that require the master’s attention.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, hanging the key around my neck and tucking it in my shirt. “And who are you again?”
“Your personal manservant, of course” he said with a slight bow. Walking over to the steel door, he pulled it closed and it locked with a solid thunk. “Master should always keep his inner sanctum closed. One never knows if something nasty will creep in.”
“Thank you, uh, Woodhouse. I’ll remember that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “So what needs tending and how do things work around here?”
He smiled and beckoned me with a white gloved hand. “If master would be so kind as to follow me, I’ll introduce him to the staff and explain the duties and obligations of his domain.”
I’m 99.9% certain that everyone here is just me wearing a mask, so I shrugged and followed Woodhouse out of the bedroom and into the rest of my subconscious.
Five minutes later I was on the ground floor and seated on a shabby throne with the cast of a popular —and probably very copyright protected— animation in front of me. Woodhouse was the head butler and my personal manservant. Pam was the cook and demanded that I start importing sugar and alcohol before she was shushed by Woodhouse. Carol was a maid. Krieger was chancellor and Cyril was the steward. Archer and Lana were in charge of security. Ray was the marshal in charge of everything from the stables to the blacksmith.
I stared in disbelief at the motley crew kneeling in front of me. No wonder my inner mind was in such shambles. I was overcome with an irrational sense of anger at myself.
“Arright, listen up,” I barked, my voice echoing around the room. “I swear to God that I will fire every single one of you and hire circus clowns to replace you if you keep fucking things up. No joke. Circus clowns, got it?”
I ran a hand over my face as Ray pissed himself. “The only reason I’m not putting a boot in your asses right now is because I realise that you’re aspects of me, and the people you represent are pretty damn good at their jobs when they give enough of a shit to actually do them. As a team, you’re dysfunctionally fantastic and always seem to come out ahead no matter the odds.”
Heaving a sigh, I continued. “Things have changed and I need to get my shit together. I’m going to need every one of you to pull your weight and help me help you. Get back to your duties, I’ll meet you one on one later.”
My subconscious caretakers scurried out of the room.
“I’ll have one of the maids tend to the piss,” Woodhouse assured me.
“Never mind that,” I snapped. “I honestly had no idea my mind was such a shit show. I’m very disappointed in myself.” I pictured the Angry, Sad, and Disgusted counters on my personal movies clicking up. “Show me what needs to be done and let’s get started.”
During Woodhouse’s walking tour, everything clicked into place. This was some altered version of Bodiam castle, a location that was on my bucket list of places to visit. The royal council room, located behind the throne room, contained a “living” tapestry on the wall that showed the castle and surrounding land in real time. The castle was located in the middle of a small lake, and a single wood bridge led to the mainland. A small town surrounded the lake and a wall encircled the town. Outside the wall, the land was an irregular patchwork of forest and field, with a stinking swamp to the south. The entire “kingdom” was maybe ten miles across, surrounded by impassable mountains with innumerable creeks that fed the lake which drained into the southern swamp.
“Zombies are the problem, sir.” Woodhouse said, as I surveyed the living tapestry of my mental domain.
“Zombies?” I prompted.
“Yes sir, Zombies” Woodhouse continued. “Nasty bitey things that come in from the mountains and harass the peasants. They’ve gotten especially worse over the last few months. The soldiers do what they can, but they seem to have lost all motivation. Probably because they haven’t been paid.”
“And who pays them?”
“Typically chancellor Krieger is in charge of financial matters, although Steward Figgis has taken over the duty, sir.”
“Then let’s make Figgis our first stop.”
“Very good, sir.”
The office of the steward was run by Cyril Figgis, who managed the kingdom in my absence. It was overflowing with paperwork and charts, books and scrolls piled high on every flat surface. Cyril was desperately attempting to tidy things when Woodhouse and I walked in.
“Yo..you..your majesty,” Cyril stuttered, bowing low. Scrolls fell from his overloaded arms, spilling across the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to gather them up. “I didn’t expect you to visit so soon. Please forgive the mess, housekeeping has been slacking…”
This was the guy who ran things while I was conscious.
“Shut up, Cyril” I said. “You’re responsible for everything in this office. That includes keeping it organised and tidy.”
“Y..yes milord.”
“It’s my understanding that you’re in charge of making sure everyone gets paid. So why aren’t we paying people?” I asked.
“We’re nearly out of Fuks, your majesty. I’ve been saving them for emergencies.”
“Fucks?”
“Fuks,” Cyril explained, pushing a pile of books off a large chest and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled out two small bags and emptied them on top of his cluttered desk. “Gold and Silver Fuks, the currency of the kingdom. I can’t maintain the kingdom when I have no Fuks to give.”
Behold the subconscious kingdom of Vincent J. Carter, it runs on Fuks.
“So how do I get more fuks?” I asked, examining one of the coins. It had an image of me on one side and symbol on the other that could be interpreted as “peace among worlds”.
“You kill the zombies, your majesty.”
Of course I do.
Woodhouse and I left Cyril’s office and headed towards the office of the chancellor where Krieger worked. It seemed that Cyril took over financial matters when Krieger became erratic and proposed luring all the zombies into the city and setting it on fire. Not sure how that corresponds to my own self-destructive behaviour, but I’ve had some dark thoughts over the last couple of months and I’m sure they’re reflected here.
Krieger’s office was much neater in comparison to Cyril’s, but it wasn’t by much. Shelves lined the walls and were filled with an array of questionable items, including a still snapping zombie head in a jar. While the office of the chancellor was supposed to be in charge of financial matters, it looked more like a dodgy rummage sale.
Krieger was launching sword blades at a pig carcass when we walked in.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked, standing in the doorway.
“Hm? Oh, your majesty!” he said, turning around and bowing deeply. “I’m testing a new invention. It’s a spring loaded hilt that shoots sword blades. Very useful for our soldiers.”
“Stupidest idea ever,” I snapped. “I hate everything about it.”
“Okay,” Krieger said, tossing the hilt into a nearby pile of junk. “But don’t blame me when you need to shoot a sword at a zombie and don’t have one.”
“So why aren’t you managing the financial affairs? Collecting taxes, paying people, stuff like that?”
“Because the population has declined so much none of that matters?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wellll, the population represents things you care about,” Krieger said, going into lecture mode. “And the zombies and other monsters are real or imagined problems in your way. Since you don’t care about too many things the population has shrunk to just what’s needed to keep everything running on the bare minimum of fuks. And since you don’t seem to have any long or short term goals, there’s no need to kill off the zombies and get more fuks. Everything is fine just the way it is.”
“No, it’s not Krieger” I said, grinding my teeth. “My mind is in a shambles. It’s a joke. I want it fixed. No, I want it better than fixed. I want it improved.”
“Oh! I’ve got just the thing for that!” He said, digging around in his pockets, “It’s a spring-loaded hilt that shoots swords!”
Pam and Cheryl were hanging out a gallery window jeering at Archer and Lana sparring in the inner courtyard.
“What the hell are you doing!” I snapped
They whirled in surprise and then dropped into deep curtseys.
“Your majesty!”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my centre. “Get to work cleaning this place up. Find a room, clean it, and move on to the next. Start with my bedroom, then the throne room and the council chamber, then everything else.”
Cheryl spoke up. “Can’t do it. We got no fuks to clean with.”
“You need fuks to clean?”
“Gotta buy stuff,” Pam said. “Cleaning supplies, food. You wanna eat, you’re gonna have to spend some fuks.”
“Talk to Cyril,” I ordered. “Tell him I said to get you supplied.”
They ran off in the direction of the stewards office.
I watched Archer and Lana bashing each other enthusiastically through the window.
Several minutes later the sparring couple stopped and bowed when Woodhouse and I stepped into the inner courtyard.
“Your majesty”
“My liege”
“Enough,” I said. “If you have enough energy to smash each other, you have enough energy to smash zombies. Tell me what I need to know so I can start gathering fuks.”
Archer shrugged and spoke first. “You just kill the zombies and other monsters. They drop fuks.”
“Anything special about the zombies?” I asked. “Are they fast? Do people get turned into zombies when bitten?”
“Nope,” Lana said, resting her wooden sword on her shoulder. “Most of them are slow shamblers and just need a good wack to the head to kill them.”
“Some are special,” Archer interjected. “Occasionally you’ll have some fast ones, or those that need holy water to kill. They’re just bad memories, figments of your personality that need to be eliminated. Some are worse than others.”
“The zombies are bad memories?” I asked, imagining all the bad memories that I had.
“Memories, thoughts, insecurities, metaphysical mumbo-jumbo,” Woodhouse supplied. “They are endless, but constant vigilance can keep them under control.”
“So let’s get started,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Lana and Archer lead me up to the parapet over the front gate where I looked over at the dozens of zombies milling about aimlessly in front of the entrance to my mind. Pulling out my gun, I began to pick them off, easy as shooting fish in a barrel. The crack of my spell pistol attracted more zombies and I dispatched them with ease until no more were left around the gate. As I fired each shot I could feel some sort of existential energy flowing from me, draining some hidden reserve.
“Gather up the Fuks,” I commanded. “And Lana?”
“Mi’lord?”
“There’s no excuse for this. From now on, I expect the walls to be clear of all zombies.”
“Yes mi’lord,” she said, giving me a small bow.
Turning to Archer, I shook my head. “You’re obviously my personal narcissism, so just try to stay out of Lana’s way, or better yet - try to kill more zombies than her. If you think you can.”
Archer scoffed. “No contest. I took top marks in sharpshooting.”
“That means I should expect to see results by tomorrow. I look forward to it.”
Archer looked panicked for a moment then smiled. “Sure, I can give you results.”
Turning back to Woodhouse I said “Show me what else need attending.”
Woodhouse led me through the town that represented my mind, pointing out each business that had fallen into disrepair, suggested others that needed improvements, and additions that would benefit me. In the distance, I could hear Lana and Archer shooting at the crowd of zombies and with each echoing shot I felt a tiny bit better about everything.
[INDEX]

If you have tried candida-diet or parasit diet and your bb is gone.Have you noticed that there is always a lot of discussion on the role of detoxification. Detox this and detox that. But they dont really go in depth or explain the defintion of the word detox. You’ll see extreme ideas and very restricted programs for detox including the “master cleanse” but as soon as you off the diet bb returns or it only last awhile.
More than 6 months ago I found black mold in the house that produces mycotoxins and you breath this in. This the answer and cause too my other sickness and symtoms. This is the only group ToxicMoldExposure and community that I know that goes into DEPTH what detox really is and how too eliminate toxins but they talk about mycotoxins but this relates too most other toxins. They talk about glutathione, phophatidyl coline, supplements like garlic, milk thistl, oregano,infrared sauna and binders: like okra,beets, cholestyramine, activated charcoal and betonite clay and supporting liver and bile production.
I also asked in another account if anyone have bb and someone did answer that she and her husband got bb from living in a house with mold(she is cured now). I searched also and found very few that also have bb as a symtoms. My theori is that when you have alot of toxins (doesnt need too be mycotoxins) you can develop bb. Especially if you find strict diet is the only thing that can get rid of the bb.
But one of the best thing that happenden there is when somone mentioned about sauna The niacin sauna detox protocol, also known as the Hubbard Detox Program, it was made by L. Ron Hubbard and later adapted for the 9/11 responders. This regimen aims to eliminate toxins stored in the body's fat tissues, where many of these harmful substances tend to accumulate. it was used too cure US veterans of the 1990–1991 Persian Gulf War including pesticides and chemical warfare https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6862571/
Alsosome ppl with mold toxity have found relief using ths nicacin and saund prooco by dan root. you should visit dan roots facebook groupe he goes into detail how nicacin pulls the toxins out from the body https://www.facebook.com/groups/Detox.iNation/about/? locale=lt_LT&paipv=0&eav=AfYsZu4I95JoddTvHDCKl8qQH0JKy5XRdlwxnp4K0sbXqu7hanoG0DVWnPy6h8gmNW8&_rdr . But when I did this program I had too take a break becaus I did it wrong. Bu be aware that your bb might get worse in this program until it gets cured, Because your dumping ALL the toxins stored in the fat cells/tissue into the blood stream than you sweat it out using infrared saunas. He also mentions binder and oils too repleace the fat . He goes into DETAIL.
The liver(among other organs). is the one that detoxifices and you should focus wholly on. iver detoxification happens in two phases, known as Phase 1 and Phase 2. ne way to support the liver is with glutathione. Glutathione is known as the body’s master antioxidant . Toxins can actually decrease the production of glutathion. Glutathion pulls the toxins out of blood so we need it becuase it alomost cleans the blood. here is a study that mentions the link between toxins and glutathion: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3942754/
Toxins are stored in the blood and fat cells, so the liver pulls it from the blood and if you can get rid of that than more toxins are pulled from fat cells than these toxins also get concentrated in you bile so you take binders so you can poop thems outl.
the other thing is that I saw someone mention that castor oil pack . Castor oil packing means soaking a fabric (I use queen thrones) with organis castor oil and placing it on the liver area and you sleep with it . It helps with detox and I did not believe it at first but I have detox symtoms like flu like symtoms and slight fever at night. It is so effecient and it did suprise me at first . pls reaserc this.
I really recommend you guys too try glutathion and binders. If you ask me wich is more important than I do not know. So many people have mentioned that okra has helped them alot.And it is cheap binder. You should try eating 6-10 okras a day. You need too bind the toxins so you can eliminate it thru bowel movement. Remeber that elimation pathways are thru : sweat,urinating and bowel movements.
here is a guy cured using glutathion but I think most of us have too do more like using binders: https://www.reddit.com/badbreath/comments/104i563/success_finally_found_a_bad_breath_cure_fix/
what methods other that candida diet wich is not a cure do you think eliminates toxins that causes bb do you do ?
excuse my english it is not my first language

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Ceele strolled through the damp grass along the outskirts of the village, a spring in her step and the dwindling scent of dew following behind. It rained yesterday, which had prevented her from going out to gather supplies, but the mild morning air had been accommodating enough for her to get an early start and make the trip. She was glad she did.
One hand clutched her new prize to her chest, while the other held a fraying wicker basket filled with herbs and some edible roots she gathered by exploring the forbidden forest. Despite her reservations regarding where she chose to go, her excitement now lingered like a steady thrum of shifting stones, giving her energy that defied how long she had been walking. She all but pranced beneath the burgeoning night's sky, gleefully toeing the line between the dirt pathways of the settlement’s outskirts and the trees of unclaimed land. Normally, her path back home would never be so close to the village, but she was far too gleeful to mind. She had come back with a sense of fulfillment and a rare object—or if not rare, then hopefully of great value.
It was hard to point to any one specific reason that she came across the orb. There had always been a ‘draw’ during her travels, urging her that there was something missing in her life, yet it was no more than a mild whim to walk in a particular direction more often than not. Once she reached this part of the continent, she was compelled to wander, never quite able to explain why she obliged the sensation besides having nowhere in particular to be. Even when she finally settled somewhere, it stayed in the back of her mind, suggesting that she was close to whatever would make the pit of vacancy go away. She ignored it, purposefully distracting herself with her work and responsibilities, yet that could only last so long. When she awoke this morning with plans to resupply, and all of her newfound spots had been picked clean by wildlife, she turned to the depths of the forest where she was warned not to tread. It was all too easy to follow the subtle tug in her chest through the loose justification.
The urge to be somewhere grew unbearable with every step closer to the forbidden area. That sense of having a direction she needed to go became stronger and stronger, until she was well into land long since forgotten. She came across an overgrown depression in the hillside, and was entranced by the foreboding image. Something about the cave just…beckoned her. She was far too weak to resist.
Horrible tales echoed into her ears as whispers of fearful voices, warning and unending, yet but a dull drone compared to her hammering heart. She navigated the trees and brushed aside unkempt vines, stepping into the cavern with a mix of expectation and trepidation, then laid eyes on the small obsidian stone perched atop a crumbling pillar. The feeling of needing to travel somewhere…stopped.
The pull was absent, which was why she held the orb close instead of placing it into her basket. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she recalled overheard tales of hidden gemstones, deep cavernous expanses, and the untold terrors that lay within. Comparing the scenes of those fables to the cave seemed foolish now; it wasn’t some torturous chamber, but a dusty depression in a small hillside. Besides, anything this pretty was sure to be worth a fair sum, and she needed the coin. Yet the thought of selling the precious-looking stone was a conflicting one. She shook off the thought for the time being, turning her attention back towards where she was going.
Shadows stretched and faded as the moon stole the last of the illumination afforded by the sun, replacing it with a calming glow that caressed the log frames and thatched roofs of various homes. A star-filled sky came into prominence as clouds lazily drifted away, revealing the promise of tomorrow’s fair-weathered arrival. It was too late for anyone to notice her treading on the edge of their town while lost in thought, but she was still careful not to get too close to the houses or livestock pens where people might be finishing the evening’s duties. It was best that they didn’t see her returning from a place she was told not to go. Still, her feet carried her near the dwellings as she took in the noises.
Ceele enjoyed the comforting chatter from a distance. Indistinct words floated freely. Meaningless gossip and warm goodbyes were exchanged between friends and family. Places of various occupations were dark and quiet, only the faint contented mewls and clucks of livestock coming from their pastures as they ate what was recently put out for them. No metal rang throughout the streets as it was struck inside a centralized smithy, no heated bartering came from an overactive trade house, and the crunch of dirt beneath transport or merchant wagons was absent, replaced by the rapid steps and yelps of children rushing to their homes before it got too dark out. It was all just gentle conversation and life drifting through the wind, taking the rustle of leaves along for the ride, just so she could hear it. Tranquil, in a word.
She wondered what it would sound like if she were yet one more voice within that crowd of kindness. Would it be loud like the larger cities? Would she struggle to maintain a thought with so many stray topics floating about? Would she once more yearn for the peace and quiet of solitude that she had grown used to, or would she immerse herself, free of judgment and laughing like the carefree young that scampered about? Did thinking about it even matter?
Her smile fell from its genuine intensity—still worn, but not as fully. She glanced downward as her stride lost its jubilant bounce, her tail losing its sway as her grey eyes examined the dry black scales that adorned her body against her wishes. It was the ugly hue of tarnished oil, unlike the skin of any other kobold she had met. Some had reds or greens, yellows or whites, while most were between a sandy tan or earthen brown. The rainbow of peculiarities was displayed by the lucky few, and she was one of them…
…Yet she was different in the worst of ways.
Even if she would rather any other colour, she supposed it was that way to make sure no one came near without accepting the unspoken risks. That was what her mother always said, anyway, though the woman hardly feared much of anything in her old age, and dedicated herself to giving her offspring all the love she had left to give—a perk of living a full life. She would always help her daughter bathe, complimenting the colour of what most were unnerved by. That was more than a decade ago now, however. Ceele’s parents had passed on while she was still young, and she took to travelling not long after, working at what she could to afford what little she needed. Never for long, though—just enough to get to the next town between where she was and where the urge to go lay. There were certainly moments she looked back on fondly, but the journey had taken its toll.
The crude material of her ‘dress’ was coarse, old, and heavy, but it helped ease the worst of spring's chill—even if it was more of a modified sack than proper attire. Still, it was all she had after the last of her clothing fell apart, and giving the repurposed material a name that reminded her of something else made it less uncomfortable to wear, somehow. It would have to do until she could afford a pitying seamstress or the like. Until then, she would pretend she didn’t look so desperate, even if it only highlighted her status and made finding work difficult.
But it did. The dishevelled garment was a far cry from the wonderful silks or breathtaking designs she had seen some women wear, harshly marking the distinction between herself and those of affluence. The clothing of commoners was also a leap in style and quality, so she couldn't say her attire was up to even modest standards. No matter how hard she squinted, and no matter how much she fantasized otherwise, she seemed every bit like the vagrant she was, down to the soil embedded in the curvature of her claws and the stains throughout her fabrics. She looked like a serf from the more oppressed lands, yet they too wore crude cottons, which said a lot about how she appeared to those who had never lived a life of servitude. It was obvious that she was an outsider. That she didn't belong amongst the rest. It made changing something as simple as her appearance all the more difficult; prospective employment always saw a young woman who seemed more likely to steal or swindle than make an honest day’s living.
There was one good twist of fate in recent memory, however, and she came upon the result of it after leaving the slowing bustle of the village behind. Her steps carried her through a small copse of trees on the outskirts of town, the small shaded path leading to the back of a large, carefully pruned clearing, a scattering of fruit-bearing trees providing even darker shadow than the already dim moonlight. She skirted along the aging fence on the border that kept predatory animals away, carefully hoisting herself over the barrier where a large vegetable garden she was responsible for tending resided. If one were to tell her she would be living in such an area several months ago, she would have smiled politely and walked away, yet here she was.
A modest, warmly lit home occupied the middle of the clearing, sitting front and centre when one approached from the village path. It looked quite cozy, surrounded by berry bushes that were just beginning to bloom as the last dregs of winter slipped away. A front patio displayed a nice table and well-loved chairs, the rustic appearance only adding to its charm as a place where friends and family spent the warm summer afternoons. A smithy to the left of the house functioned as an additional heated building during the colder months, but usually served as a storefront and to muffle the sounds of hammered iron, though that had become less common. An old stable was nearby, close enough to be accessible, but not so close as to disturb the once occupying animals with sounds of iron craft. It hadn't seen a horse in quite some time, apparently, so it was mostly a workshop for whatever tasks didn’t require fire or metal.
There was a long history attached to each little detail—from the scuffs along the wooden siding to the depressions in the ground where daily routine wore into the earth. Every fault suffered throughout the years was matched by a thousand quirks that made it feel welcoming, like the house itself was merely waiting for the next friendly face with one of its own. She knew that the inside of each building would look just as cared for.
Her concern lay outside, however. It was a comparatively miniscule space just barely visible through the sheltering trees, true, yet it was where her efforts turned into tangible results, and where a stranger’s trust was painstakingly repaid. Once overgrown grass had been laboriously trimmed, the weeds plucked and disposed of, and now nothing distracted from what she could claim she had done.
The small plots of rock-bordered soil had little buds of growing vegetables, a sense of pride never failing to bloom in her breast with the knowledge that it would be barren without her touch. When her troubles and concerns grew heavy, and fears of the future or spectres of the past loomed over her head, she could look at where she had brought life where it wouldn't otherwise be. Some days, that was enough. She smiled in appreciation at what was admittedly amateur work, the night’s sky helping to hide any inevitably made mistakes.
She enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to walk towards a neglected old tool shed that was well out of sight within the trees, far away from whatever warmth and comfort the larger house offered to everyone and anyone. She put a hand on the degrading wood of the entryway, giving one last sad smile at the garden as she dismissed selfish thoughts of taking the eventual harvest for herself. A breath cleared the uncertainty from her voice, and she pushed open the door.
“I'm home!”
= = = = =
It took a while for Altier to adjust to his situation, and even once he accepted that his mana wasn't being siphoned, he was still reeling from confusion. He had spent centuries with every year passing by without his notice, yet now he was painfully aware of each creeping second languidly dragging on with the expediency of growing grass. It was as disorienting as it was painfully nostalgic.
Time was something he was never good with, and it only got worse as a dungeon. He'd get lost in creating rooms, corridors, creatures, and whatever else needed doing, only pausing to watch or listen to the few adventurers he became interested in. There was a stint where he spent what felt like hours agonizing over new abilities or options while he let the system manage things in the background, though he supposed it might have been much longer. So many wasted days, yet he still hadn't managed to try everything he had gained access to. Some abilities were simply too niche, came with concerning titles, or held descriptions that made him wary. Anything with ‘Decay’ in the name was instantly ignored—he didn't need more reasons to fear his affinity, and from the few he took the effort to read through, they were always vile.
But his existence for the moment was no longer like those endless stretches spent pondering the minutiae of what would help his adventurers grow stronger. Now, he could follow the rhythmic sounds of footsteps and steady breathing that set a calming pace. They were someone else's, yes, but they contextualized how easy it was to slip away without the subtle noises of life that he had long since surrendered to help his family. Of course, there were more differences that he noticed since being removed from his crumbling cavern, and his sight was the newest change.
He never gave much thought to how far he could see before. Why would he? As a man, his world extended as far as he could fathom, yet was also confined to the room where he spent his days, and as a dungeon… Well, who was he to consider distance when an event happening miles away could be seen with a flicker of thought? Nothing was too far when it was within his creation. Or his ‘body,’ he supposed. Sadly, his entire perception currently consisted of the small sphere of his obsidian core, and maybe a finger's length beyond it—which is to say, not much. He could make out the fine details in the dirty burlap he was held against, and how pale moonlight slowly took over the blurred reds of sunset, but hardly anything more. It was all just frosted colours after a certain point, and he found it infinitely frustrating. He just wanted to peer beyond the haze and scaly hand holding him to confirm that the sky he remembered was still there. Alas, the sunlight faded at too quick a pace, yet one oh so agonizingly slow.
The ensuing darkness gave him nothing to do but think about where he was, not that he had any ideas. He was too curious about why he wasn't dead to bother much with his blurry surroundings after the soft-spoken kobold abducted him, thus why he only belatedly noticed how limited his worldview had become. There might have been a forest beyond his cave, but the greens and browns were gone, and the sounds of steps through brush was replaced by the distant din of a village. An idle curiosity pondered if he would recognize any descents of his ‘family tradition’ adventurers there, but he was being carried by what most considered a monster, so likely not.
That short musing was short-lived, however, and he brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He supposed he was being taken somewhere specific, but that was an obvious deduction, considering he was taken at all. The why of the matter was less so; for what purpose would someone want a Decay-aligned core? He hadn’t heard of them before…well, before he was made into one, but he couldn’t imagine many uses. Maybe he was being sold? His…kidnapper? His sudden companion seemed rather pleased by their discovery of him, so that might be the case, and it was morbidly amusing to think that a frail, sickly young man might one day become a coveted, highly valuable item. His abduction could also be a part of some cult’s nefarious activities, but he didn't want to think about that too hard. He experienced enough odd ceremonies from the adventurers who took the time to tell him their tales.
Either way, he wasn't in the dungeon anymore, and he couldn’t see where he was going. He tried to query his menu to glean an answer, but was met with a scrambled mess he suspected read ‘Synchronizing…’ and little else. It gave him a headache trying to make sense of it—which he didn't know was possible anymore—so he dismissed the text and distracted himself with blurs from whatever diluted senses he still had. There wasn’t much to observe other than the constant footfalls and the flicker of shadows on his companion’s burlap garment. They might have travelled through brush again, but it was too dark to really say for certain.
Eventually, there was something new. He heard an old latch rattle and rusted door hinges groan, then a shuddered clack that confirmed he was now in a building. His kobold acquaintance gently cooed at something before moving about the nearly pitch-black space, finally setting him down on a… He wasn’t sure what it was, besides old and wooden.
[D$#@m$n E@$*ded]
The headache from before became a blinding migraine that suffocated him under a flash-flood of suffering. Seconds passed in abject torture until it blissfully abated, the mental blinks clearing his mind enough to notice a change in his existence. Specifically, he could actually see something besides the rotting wood grain he was placed on top of.
And it wasn’t anything promising…
He was more or less in the centre of a room no bigger than twelve paces by maybe ten. Not a terrible size for a space, but it was clearly never meant to house someone. His resting place looked about as neglected as he surmised; it was an upturned feeding trough, he supposed, since calling it a table seemed too generous. The surface was rife with holes and degraded iron, so it was something that once saw regular use before being replaced and tossed into storage, never to see the light of day again.
Actually, most things in the room seemed to fit that description. The window shutters were installed with metal hinges that had since rusted them closed, the misalignment letting in a draft—and whatever weather was outside as well, most likely. A poorly carved bowl sat on the floor, the stain beneath it hinting that it collected any rainwater that slowly dripped from the leaky roof. The wooden floorboards looked old, splintered, and in need of maintenance or replacement, though an effort had been put into abrading it somewhat smooth lately.
A tiny and decrepit fireplace was to the left of the door upon entry, its brickwork slowly crumbling due to weathering and age. It was sized more for keeping the room warm during mild days than to keep away the frigid chill of night. Its base only held cold ashes, but there was a collection of deadwood and scraps nearby, so that would probably be rectified soon. A small wheel-less cart had been turned into storage against the opposite wall, some herbs and other foraged items stowed away in it for future use. Various things he remembered seeing his father and brothers use in the fields were scattered about, too. It was nostalgic to see, honestly, even if his recollections had blurred over time.
Bundles of tattered blankets formed a pair of nests in the far corner, the smaller of the two had a pile of rough plants nearby. That answered his silent pondering of the room's purpose somewhat, though he was pretty sure the bedding material was salvaged, and there didn’t seem to be any hay or padding underneath whoever was sleeping on it. He didn’t know what to think about the weeds; they were purposefully placed there, and whoever did so had taken the time to wash them, but it was still strange.
He couldn’t see a doorway besides the entrance, yet most of the hallmarks of residency were put where space could be afforded, however crude. All in all, he surmised that it was a gardening shed of sorts, and his new acquaintance apparently lived here. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when a creature he had only read about came into his dungeon, but it wasn't being brought to a rundown and decrepit shack for unknown purposes.
Even if he had been raised by parents who made a humble living at the best of times, and they had emptied their coffers for unsuccessful attempts to ease his ailments, his acquaintance's living space made him uncomfortable. His family's house was never anything fancy, true—it shared some of the worn qualities that inevitably gathered over the years—but it was never this bad. His home benefited from a father's touch keeping it robust and a mother’s love keeping it warm, whereas this place had seen neither in quite some time. Oh, there was evidence that such was once the case; a wall was adorned with carefully made and well-spaced hangers for the various gardening tools, though the implements themselves had become a victim of neglect. That being said, he could make out the fresh soil and recent scratches exposing furrows of silver, so they were seeing use again.
A scrape and clack of flint drew his attention to his kobold companion. They were kneeling in front of the fireplace, methodically sparking life back into a dead flame with twigs and dried leaves. A slow, steady breath into the reddened base illuminated its face with a dull orange glow, revealing its weary visage and the permanently etched smile that rested beneath its cold grey eyes. The black-scaled kobold looked tired, if he were to guess—much the same as Altier did when he spent countless days watching everyone living a life he could never have through the mossy window of his bedroom. He was probably humanizing it too much. Still, he was surprised by the muted pang of sympathy, and how he would feel much more than blithe curiosity after spending so much time alone in the crumbling crypt of his own making.
A mental breath cycled through him as he looked at the odds and ends yet to be observed. Hardly anything else was of note—everything else was degraded and neglected, too. He did notice a nest of blankets move though, which was as good a distraction as any. The answer to his previous ‘pile of weeds’ inquiry poked a tiny nose from a crease in the fabric, then rapidly pawed at the blankets to dig itself out. Altier stared at the creature in both recognition and confusion.
It was a rabbit…or at least it looked like one, assuming you were to also describe a porcupine and a sea urchin as well. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember any hare that had jagged metal-tipped fur, nor that had said fur arranged into a row of spiked horns that flowed down its spine, terminating at a large fluffy tail, which was equally bizarre to see. The whole of its coat could double as a weapon, with semi-sharp barbs sticking off seemingly at random, yet he remembered an adventurer saying most animals used that sort of thing defensively. He increased his focus as he tried to make sense of the odd creature. Surely he would have heard about—
[Hoppittttttt#%%÷ — Ferro-o-orabbit-it (Ma%$le)
Abil—]
[Null]
[Er0Rrrrrrrr—]
[Und#$f—]
He bit back the pain caused by the sudden intrusion of his menu, blanking out the text and mentally retreating to hide from the source. Did he just inspect something? How? Shouldn’t his entire…‘framework,’ was it…? Yes, that was it. Shouldn’t that have been corrupted? Why could he see the creature’s information when his entire framework was damaged? That was the first ability he lost, so why is it the first to be functional? How was it functional? Was it? It did just spit garbled text at him, but it was something, and that was more than he had gotten from it in a very long time. If it was somehow working—no matter how poorly—then that left the question of why he hadn't heard of anything called a ‘ferrorabbit’ before, assuming he read that correctly.
A soft thud vibrated the tro— table, startling him out of thought. He turned his attention to the button nose wiggling erratically at him, the short, stubby muzzle leading to surprisingly expressive and curious red eyes. Dull brown fur jutted off in random tufts and patches, changing to a darker tint on its paws and the upper half of its ears, while the tips of its spikes were a muted hue of iron. It still seemed just as soft as the less pointed variety he remembered, if a touch dirty. Upright ears twitched this way and that way as its head vigorously shook, eventually settling on pointing in his direction when it calmed down enough.
It was apparent that he had its undivided attention…for all of a few seconds. His scaly companion called something out in their foreign tongue, and whatever conclusion the pointy-furred animal came to, it seemed more interested in the kobold, parting from him after nudging his core with its nose.
[Cre-e-e—]
[Errrrrrr0r: Undefiiiiiiii—]
[Acceeeeep-t-t-t??]
[Yeeee— s s / Nnnnnnn—]
He winced at the intrusion, but the contents detracted from the pain. He couldn’t remember the system ever asking him a question without his explicit intent being involved. It wanted him to…accept something? Was it the system prompting him, or the animal? What was he to accept?
[Creatuuuuu—]
[Acce-e-e-%#@ed!]
…What?
= = = = =
“Hoppit, that's not food!” Ceele admonished half-heartedly, placing a larger branch on the burgeoning flame before she got to her feet. She wasn’t actually that worried; the stone was as big as his head, and she was pretty sure he couldn't bite into it. Hopefully. “Come here, momma has a treat for you!”
The ferrorabbit playfully bumped the gemstone and jumped off the low table, landing with a soft thud that belied how heavy he was for his tiny size. He wiggled in excitement, his ears flailing and releasing a slight clack whenever the two connected. It got even louder when she grabbed her basket and put away the useful herbs, taking out a specific item that she had gathered just for him. The little bun wasted no time in scurrying over and standing tall on his hind legs to judge if the offered plant was to his liking—and it was, based on how he dug in with enthusiasm. She stifled a laugh as she contentedly watched him nibble away on the treat, ignoring the guilt that came with knowing she couldn't afford proper vegetables for him. He had a hard life too, and it tore at her to have so little to give.
She came across Hoppit a year ago, during a storm that worsened while she was travelling between towns. The day had darkened to night in spite of it still being about noon, but the weather didn't care for how bright it was supposed to be. Wind and rain became a typhoon, forcing her to seek shelter in a thankfully abandoned den of what was probably a larger animal. She was fine with waiting out the squall, since the stone roof over her head was more than she usually had back then, but the sounds of dull bangs and thuds near her hideaway was followed by cries of animals yelping in pain. Curiosity won over reason, and she left the safety of her shelter to see what was causing the disturbance. Truthfully, she was hopeful that she'd come across scraps or the like, her hunger driving her forward, and she could always turn back if it seemed dangerous. Yet when she arrived at the source of the commotion, she found herself thinking of anything but food.
Two predators had fought over a small burrow, both trying to dig out a meal and taking offence to the other doing the same. What they didn’t know was that they were assaulting the home of ferrorabbits. Specifically, the home of an angry, protective, and well-fed mother that was keeping her newborns safe from the storm when predators decided to try their luck. From the scene Ceele came across, it was certainly obvious why most people dislike trying to hunt the creatures.
Sadly, the rabbit didn't survive an attack from two predators, but she did make their victory pyrrhic; neither could do much about their hunger with their bodies full of cuts and holes, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to blood loss or infection. The mother's sacrifice meant that the babies had avoided the imminent threat, but they were left unattended as a consequence, and it took an opportunistic bird swooping down to shake Ceele out of her shock. Despite her subsequent hurry, she only acted in time to save one of the orphaned young. The warren was new and barely dug out, which meant that it didn’t take much effort for the kits to be found—by both her and hungry maws. All she could do was scoop the ball of fluff into her arms and run back to the cave before anything else tried to eat it.
In retrospect, it was a stupid decision for a number of factors. She barely had the resources to supply herself, and an attempt to raise offspring of any type would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse. But when she saw how quiet and scared he was… How his tiny, shaking body calmed in her arms, those terrified red eyes seeking comfort… She should have just walked away when she knew there wasn’t going to be anything to fill her stomach. She should have put the baby animal down and let nature take its course…yet the preciously furry face stole her heart far too quickly for it to grow so cold. The next day was spent backtracking to the nearest town to get him something suitable to eat, which used most of her meagre savings. Still, it was worth every coin.
Hoppit had been accompanying her ever since. He grew quickly, transitioning from something she saved that stormy night into a presence she had grown to love like a child. The little lagomorph would bounce along beside her during her travels, then ride in her arms as he rested—though the latter happened with worrying frequency as of late. She hadn’t learned much about the springy herbivores, but she knew enough to say that he wasn't as big as he should be, nor was his fur as sharp. No matter how startled he was, his spiky coat never managed to do more than stiffen slightly, which was apparently a side effect of poor diet, according to snippets of conversation she had overheard on the topic. She wanted him to be healthy, but she didn't know what he needed. Not many farmers raised ferrorabbits, and those that did were far away, so she didn’t have anyone to ask what she should be doing. Her best course of action was to give him what little she had.
Ceele was well aware of how he would be better off on his own, but he followed her whenever she tried to set him free. Hoppit just kept launching into her arms and wiggling his ears, ecstatic that he was with her again, uncaring that food was scarce and that they spent most of their days travelling. No amount of cold nights spent bundling up under the tattered blankets she managed to find ever dampened his spirits, and he was content to eat the grass or flowers whenever he felt like it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He would dig and excitedly drag back oddities that he found, and the one time he found a plant that looked particularly good for him, he insisted that it be shared with her.
A black pit still lingered in her chest when she recalled how pleased he was while he munched on the rare vegetable he discovered, then how distressed he became when she wouldn’t have any as well. He bumped and nipped at her, all but begging her to eat. His ears pinned back against his head, his fur bristled in a way she hadn’t seen since. It was only when she took a small bite and let him inspect the new teeth marks that he seemed to calm down, but perhaps she had been looking too deep into the actions of her tiny friend. All she could say for certain was that he was scared she was going hungry.
A morbid thought wondered if his first mother had refused food shortly before being attacked, and he—as small and simple as he was—had connected the two events in his mind, making him absolutely terrified that something would happen if Ceele didn’t have something too. All of that fear, and desperation overwhelmed him, just because she was happier watching him eat. She was determined to erase that issue. She would find something that needed a worker and earn enough to feed them both. One day, she would be able to smile at how big and healthy her little fluffy boy had become, but until then, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think about how she was spending so much time growing vegetables and fruit that he couldn’t have…
Every morning was an exercise in tending to the gardens while actively shoving down images of a pleased ferrorabbit happily eating the results. That never went well; no matter how determined she was to complete her duties without a single selfish thought, most tasks were done while picturing his full belly and delighted bounces. There were a few weeks until the fastest of the crops would be ready for harvest, and Ceele would have to collect them while fighting the urge to bring back just a few for him.
She couldn’t, because she knew exactly how quickly that could escalate. It would start small—A vegetable here, a fruit there—but seeing Hoppit happy was one of the precious few good things she had in her life. Crossing the line would only become easier each time. They couldn’t risk losing their new home over greed, and she was already betraying the trust given to her by housing a wild animal, especially one known to be a pest for crops. She didn't want to know how angry it would make her benefactors if she was caught taking their vegetables for one.
No matter how tame and precious Hoppit was, and no matter how well he listened, they would only see him as the same creature that ruined harvests in droves. Thus was why she had to tell him to stay cooped up by himself while she was working or scavenging. And to her surprise, he did.
Honestly, she had made the initial request with the expectation of needing to carry him back into their home until he understood that she wasn’t leaving him forever. There wasn’t much she could do to stop the ferrorabbit from digging through the old wooden building if he wanted to get out. He wouldn’t need to damage anything either—a rotting board on the door only needed a little push to nudge it out of the way, and his natural curiosity made sure he was aware of it. But no, Hoppit was well-behaved as always, keeping hidden until she walked through the door, where he would leap from the shadows to personally show her how good he was and how he stayed put like she asked him to. It never stopped amazing her that he had such a surprising level of understanding despite being an animal, and that was to say nothing of how young he was.
All that intelligence, joy, and companionship he offered her…and yet the best she could give back to him was the weeds from the garden and the odd plant she found while scavenging…
Soft clacks of flicking ears dragged her from her pondering, her mind returning to the present. Hoppit finished his treat of the small plant, then bounced in place and scurried over to his bowl of water, perfectly happy to have eaten only that. He was so joyful with how little she provided, approaching every day of scarcity with the same enthusiasm she could never muster, as if certain that everything would be alright.
“It’s bedtime, Hoppit,” Ceele announced through a soft sigh, stoking the fire with enough branches to hopefully last the night. The ferrorabbit perked an ear in her direction, then sat on his haunches to extend the rest of himself up, his two little forepaws adorably held to his chest as he inspected the room like he always did. She smiled and made sure everything was stored away, then laid down on her bundle of blankets, covering herself with the warmest one. Hoppit bolted over to snuggle once he decided everything in the shed was up to his standards, throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flop of comfort. Her quiet laughter subsided as they both settled in for the night, her tail completing the rabbit’s encompassing cuddle, but her eyes fell towards the obsidian orb on the table, her thoughts following suit.
It sat there, just as she left it, as benign as anything else ever placed atop the improvised furnishing. Yet there was a sense of ease and purpose as well. The old wooden trough seemed…important with its adornment firmly laid upon its surface, and she couldn’t puzzle out why. She was starting to doubt her earlier excitement.
Should she sell it? Would anyone know where it came from? Would anyone know what it was, or if it was worth anything? If she could get even a modest sum for it, she would be able to buy clothing, food, and new bedding. It would be easier to convince someone to give her work if she was dressed better and wasn’t so thin, and then she would have the income to slowly improve both of their lives. She could pay for a wandering merchant to ask a ferrorabbit rancher about the animal, even if it would take time to get back to her, or maybe she could hire a local if they needed to go near one for some reason. The cost didn’t matter to her as long as it happened.
But there was something else bothering her about the idea of selling the stone. She had travelled so far with a tug in her chest, only for the feeling of wanderlust to dissipate as soon as she held it. Was that a sign? She was never one for things like ‘fate,’ but a niggling doubt in her mind discouraged the idea of making a profit off her discovery. Even if what she could gain was so very tempting, and even if Hoppit would be happier if she did…
She tore her dampened eyes away and closed them, ignoring the burning trails running across her face. It would be another early morning, and she needed to sleep so she could take care of the garden. Decisions like this could wait. Once she had nothing else distracting her, and she had time to properly think about it, she would see how she felt about the stone.
Eventually, she dozed off with Hoppit pressed against her chest, and a longing in her heart.
Next
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A/N: Patreon and Ko-fi will be 1 chap ahead this time around, and I've set it so everything from the lowest tier up can read the newest trashfire! Anything above that is sheer show of love. Hope you enjoyed!

Hey Devs, I need genuine help regarding this and I need to hear your honest advice on whether I should pursue career in tech or not given I have a 3 year gap because I have to take care of my father suffering from brain hemorrhage. I graduated with BSc. CS back in 2021.
He was a dentist in some local hospital, and was laid off during COVID and unfortunately later he began having severe mental health issues, headaches, and one day it became so critical that he went unconscious and was hospitalized.
He was diagnosed with brain hemorrhage , hence needed immediate surgery. And all this happened during fatal 2nd COVID wave, we had to pay a huge price for surgery..
We were close to poverty at that time, so when things opened up, our sole motive was to set up our dental clinic. So we did rent a space and began setting it up.
My father still needed supervision, he had some cognitive complications, and BP problems, due to BP sometimes blood clotting interfere with nerves, he would faint, become nausea tic sometimes. And in course of 3 years I had to carry him to hospital 3-4 times.
So at that time I decided to help my father and not pursue further education that year, and I have younger brother and sister whose college fees we had to arrange. I didn't knew about gap years at that time, thought I can continue it later on when we become stable enough. At the moment I am needed at home.
Hence I went to clinic with my father daily I used to do data entry work like scheduling appointments and managing report history of our patients. But main purpose for me being on clinic was supervision, if he needed some help..
After two years of effort, we are doing well and have recovered financially, allowing me to continue my studies. My father's health has also improved. And I can further continue my studies. In the meanwhile I tried clearing few government exams, but unfortunately was not able to make it, this year I am thinking to get into something productive.
During my college days, I found great joy in working on projects, including data analysis with Python and R, as well as web development projects like e-commerce stores, among others. As of now, I am a bit inclined towards data side of things, like data analytics, data science.
However, I am quite worried that I may have burned all bridges...
Hence,
To the developers and hiring managers on developersIndia, I am reaching out for your honest advice on how to handle this situation. Programming is the only skill I can provide, and I would greatly appreciate any further guidance you can provide.
Once again, thank you for your willingness to help.

Hello, just curious on what is normal for a preemie to be sleeping. My boy was born 30+0 and is now 35 weeks. We are getting discharged on monday and i feel like i dont get enough connection to him since hes sleeping all the time. Is this normal? I would say hes maybe sleeping 21-22 hours a day. He didnt need breathing help or anything when he was born, only cpap for the first night. Thank you for your help and sorry for my bad english :)