Suffering from periostitis, I noticed some years ago that wearing flip flops significantly reduced the pain. About two years ago I purchased Luna Winged Middle Bears. They have become my favorite shoes and they are the only ones I wear, except when riding my motorcycle. I am no longer afraid of pain when I walk. My only complaint with them is that the lacing system tends to loosen and needs to be tightened very regularly; but this only affects one sandal, the other also loosens but much less regularly.
Unfortunately, a rivet has just popped. I'm hesitating between four solutions.

1. Have them repaired. Luna offers a repair service but the shipping and customs costs make me think it would probably be wiser to buy a new pair, even though the insole and outsole look like they could last another year or two.
   
2. Shamma Numa Charger Leather. It's a total feel-good fantasy. The stretch lacing system and the leather seem to be able to bring me maximum comfort on a daily basis. But it's not really a feasible pair, as I live in a tropical area and hike.
   
3. Bedrock Cairn Evo 3D PRO. On paper, they seem perfect to me: efficient lacing system, compatible with humid environments. On the other hand, I don't know what to think of their increased thickness compared to my Middle Bears. Bedrock talks about a stackheight of 16mm, Luna mentions 9.4 base + 4.5mm lugs, so if the stackheight includes the lugs, I imagine that the extra 2.5mm won't make me lose that much groundfeel, especially since I only hike and don’t run.
   
4. Luna Winged Oso Flaco. The idea would be to stay in the continuity of sandals that I love, to tell myself that the lacing problem that I encounter, since it only affects one of my sandals, is not inherent to the Luna Winged , and go for a thickness less than 2mm for more groundfeel. But this may be a mistake if thin sandals are more for runners and thick ones for walkers.
   

With an unlimited budget, I would happily buy the Shamma for indoors (I currently use flip flops) and the Bedrock or Luna for outdoors, but unfortunately this is impossible.
Your opinions are welcome!

Brought home a 9 year old b&g around 6 months ago, and while he seems to have gotten used to everything well, he doesn't really... do much.
For one, he doesn't play with toys. Like, at all. He likes cardboard, paper, and toilet paper (which, cool, all cheap and easily accessible), and he'll chew on thin pieces of wood if there's zero other option, but that's it. And none of those can be hanging, they need to be on a flat surface (so, he doesn't play with anything in his cage or on his stand, just on any flat surface). But that's also... it. I've had a wooden toy since I got him and it only has maybe 3 bite marks, I have a bunch of other toys that he either ignores or throws to the ground, and he doesn't do anything when he's left alone. And, honestly, I saw his old cage, I can see why he doesn't play with toys.. it was not good.
He also doesn't like going anywhere. His room is pretty much a large cage he only sits in one spot of, a large playstand, a desk, and a reclining chair. Supposedly he liked going on walks, but even when he's comfortable outside, it's clear he would rather be in his room. And I have furniture and trees in my backyard, so we could stay out there if he wanted. There's not really anywhere else in the house he has shown to like being, outside of sitting on a stand while I make chop in the kitchen
Up until last Saturday, where he randomly opened up and now likes to sit on my lap and chew cardboard (probably a hormonal thing but it's literally the only thing he'll play with) he was perfectly content to just sit on my desk and not move basically all day. He doesn't even over preen or anything, just sits there. And he's clearly so smart! I've taught him a bunch of tricks and he learns them so quick, so I just want him to be more adventurous. I'm thinking those plastic foraging toys but I've tried hiding treats in toys and he was not impressed

Author’s Notes:
Finally, I’m back yet again! I finally got the time to write this wonderful little story project again; Senior year of high school has me super busy. I’ll be leaving for Air Force Basic Training in early June to go be a 5th Gen Crew Chief, so expect a roughly 5-6 month hiatus until I can keep writing.
I also got a PS2 emulator running on my PC, so I did a playthrough of each of the three Ace Combat games featured for that console, as well as 7 and Project Wingman. In later parts, you’ll definitely be able to tell the inspiration I got from all of the games.
I forgot to mention this in my last part, but last year I was able to head to Norfolk and see the USS George Washington in person, which was really cool. Writing about it is one thing, but actually getting to go on it and walk around was another experience entirely.
This part was kind of hastily put together to give you guys something to read, since It’s been way too long since I got a part for you. Once I get time after BMT and Tech School, I’ll continue and eventually finish off the story (If I can fit it in between doing MX stuff all day). Story wise, this part is just a setup for the massive port raid that will happen in the next part; I’m planning 2 more parts after that to finish off the story. Overall this project’s been fun, but I have to cap it off eventually.
Happy Reading!
…
“Alright, settle down, settle down.”
All the members of VF-102 quickly stopped talking to each other and looked towards the front of the room.
The CO then pulled down the paper map attached to the ready room wall. He pointed to the large port city that was slightly inland and surrounded by topographical marks denoting mountainous terrain on all sides.
“Before we can hit their fleet in port, we have to get through their coastal defenses.”
The CO pointed to a narrow stretch of water on the map that opened up into the large bay.“
“The kingdom we’re up against were smart with their port city positioning; they have an island in the middle of this strait with a heavy stone fortress on it. From the imagery we were able to collect on it, the fort apparently acts as a naval defense platform for their main port city. In conjunction with the strait, it’s a perfect defensive position to lock down entry and exit into the bay. We’re going to hit the fort today before we hit their fleet early tomorrow.”
Each pilot and RIO nodded in understanding.
“We’re sending four of you up as a two-ship strike package alongside VFA-86. Those assigned to hop today are going to get MK83s with Snakeyes to do the initial strike, and then the Hornets are going to mop up with some Mavericks and Rockeyes. The rest of you flying today are going to run the usual CAP up along the coastline.”
The CO gave out crew assignments for the fort strike package, which included Type and Wizard in Diamondback 110, and another Tomcat crew in Diamondback 113.
“The fort island is roughly Alcatraz Island-sized, so four MK83s rippled should be sufficient enough to crack the outer walls of the fort. Just be careful, as we don’t know if they have any Triple-A or not. Other than that, you guys are dismissed. Good luck out there.”
Type and Wizard hopped up and headed out of the ready room with the other VF-102 pilots and RIOs following. They weaved through the narrow gray halls of the carrier slipping past Sailors while hanging onto their flight bags and helmets.
…
As the evening sun shined down on the carrier deck, Type walked up to the Plane Captain waiting next to Diamondback 110.
“Hi, how’s it going?”
“All good sir, we just pulled the pins and the Ordnance guys just finished up fitting on the Sparrows.”
“Perfect, let’s get rolling with the preflight.”
The Plane Captain nodded, and got to work doing the final preflight check alongside Type and Wizard.
…
After the preflight, Type and Wizard both climbed the ladders to the aircraft and got seated. Both of them fit on their Woodland camouflage-covered helmets and flipped down the dark visors. Type ran through the comms check with Wizard, and started up the aircraft.
After the aircraft was started and all the systems were good, the Sailors on deck pulled out the cart connections and drove it away. Wizard dropped the canopy, and the Director in front marshaled them out from their parking spot.
…
Lining up on Catapult 4 behind 113, Type watched as two of the VFA-86 F/A-18Cs on Catapults 1 and 2 were tandem launched with the other two Hornets waiting behind the blast deflectors. Type brought the Tomcat through the catapult connection process, with the Shooter signaling him in.
…
Both Shooters for 3 and 4 signaled for engine start right as both blast panels were raised. The Cat 3 Shooter knelt down and sent his arm forward, followed by the Cat 4 Shooter.
113 was sent from the deck first, with 110 following soon after. Wizard gripped his handlebars as the Tomcat rattled with the catapult launch, while Type applied backwards stick pressure as soon as the Tomcat left the deck. He quickly pulled the gear switch up as well, rolling left with 113 right as the gear doors sealed.
…
Coming high to Angels 6 at Mil Power, both 102 Tomcats formed up with the Hornets that had CBUs equipped; Sidewinder 402 and 406. The other two Hornets with Mavericks on their wings, Sidewinder 404 and 411, caught up and formed up behind them.
The six-ship traversed north at 450 knots before reaching 5 miles out from the fort.
…
Before they descended in, each aircraft engaged their Master Arm switches and readied up their ordnance. 404 and 411 warmed up their Mavericks, while 113, 110, 402, and 406 each readied up their bombs.
“Warden, 113, Master Arm on.”
“110, Master Arm.”
Type had ‘ORD’ indicated on his HUD, with the impact point cross displayed on the lower end.
In the back, Wizard flicked the weapons station switches for the centerline pylons on and rotated the bomb selector to the ‘Ripple’ setting.
“Scope’s clear, hit the deck and ingress. Cleared hot on target.”
“113 Roger, goin’ in.”
Diamondback 113 pitched down and broke through the heavy cloud layer, with each aircraft following. Each of them reached roughly 500 feet off the water’s surface and leveled off. Sidewinder 404 and 411 split left and right to line up their Mavericks.
Right before they encountered the fort, each pilot noticed a large stone bridge spanning the length of the bay with 113 doing a full 360-degree right roll as the flight passed over it.
402 and 406 slowed down ready to lob their Rockeyes up and into the fort, while 110 and 113 made slight adjustments to line up with the west and east wall lengths of the fort.
Popping up extremely low over the fort’s walls, the Tomcats started the strike.
“Ready for drop….Shit, that’s flak!”
On the walls of the fort, cannon operators quickly tried to react to the airstrike by raising their flak cannons towards the incoming aircraft. Some of them opened up, creating thin stretches of black flak puffs around the four fighter aircraft rapidly approaching.
113 made it over the western wall stretch and dropped their four MK83s, which opened their fins and slowed down behind the aircraft.
With a small delay, Type pulled the trigger for weapons release. Both him and Wizard audibly heard ThThThThunk come from the underside of their aircraft.
“Pickle, Pickle, Pickle!”
…
On the top of the fort walls, archers and flak cannon operators watched with fear-filled wide eyes as large green cylinders with fins slowly came down on them. They accepted their fate as they detonated on impact, blowing stone everywhere and collapsing the wall sections. Ammunition dumps in the walls detonated with a chain reaction, causing even more destruction.
…
The pilot of Sidewinder 404 finished up locking his target on the island; a large naval cannon reminiscent of an Ottoman siege cannon. Looking at his MFD, he noted the lock indication for his Maverick and hit the weapon release, calling out:
“404, Rifle, East Cannon.”
The AGM-65F ignited and slid off its rail with its optics focusing directly on the massive naval cannon, impacting it a short time later. Soon after, a Maverick from Sidewinder 411 impacted the large cannon on the west side of the island, blowing it to bits.
“Shack Cannons, 404, defending Triple-A…”
…
The other two Hornets pitched up into burner with both pilots attempting to line up their HUD CCIP markers on the center of the fort.
As they popped up, the flak started to get more intense. Both pilots pushed into burner to drop quickly.
“406, Pickle!”
“402, Pickle…”
The CBU-100s detached from underneath the Hornets, coming in an upwards arc over the fort. Each bomb split open, releasing a large amount of smaller bomblets which coated the fort’s central structure. Anything or anyone in the blast radius was now dust.
“406, egressing-”
As Sidewinder 406 split left, the Hornet flew through a flak burst and took structural damage. The cockpit was penetrated by metal shards, impacting the pilot in his left arm and torso. He also took hits to the left end of his helmet, with his visor becoming cracked.
“Shit, I’m hit!”
…
Type and Wizard listened over the radio while climbing up back over the clouds with the rest of the aircraft, getting more and more concerned as 406 seethed in pain. Each aircraft was able to egress successfully, but Sidewinder 406 was trailing smoke and was starting to have engine issues as well.
“Warden, 406…..Took a hit…”
“406, Warden copies.”…
Warden relayed the information back to the controllers onboard CVN-73, who scrambled the Crash Teams for the hit Hornet. Sidewinder 406 was brought to the front of the pattern, and lined up for a trap. Getting the most assistance out of his aircraft systems as he could, he successfully put down the Hornet with a 1-wire while fighting his bleeding and severe pain.
A tug quickly pulled the Hornet out of the landing area, allowing the rest of the aircraft to trap. As the canopy raised, the Crash Team Sailors in their silver firefighting equipment pulled the injured pilot out, who was clutching his bleeding shoulder.
…
As Type and Wizard trapped and taxied off of the wires, they looked at the empty and damaged Hornet sitting off to the side.
“Man, hope he’s alright…”
“Yeah, too damn close today.”
They parked their Tomcat, and shut down the aircraft.
…
In the ready room, the CO went over the HUD footage from 110 and 113 for the debrief.
“That’s a mission success, we took out the fort and we have an open path for the port strike in sixteen hours. The only issue is, one of 82’s guys was hit during the strike. Thank God he made it back alive; it would’ve been bad had we lost him out here.”…
With the naval fort down, CVW-1 has a clear opening into the enemy kingdom’s main port for their anti-shipping strike. The injured Hornet pilot serves as a warning for all of them:
This conflict won’t be an easy one.

Author's Note:
7700 words, broke Reddit's character limit, so you know the drill. Will be split into two parts, both posted today. Enjoy!
​
--
​
"Stop! STOP!"
The terror in Kismet's voice rose higher as death drew nearer. He fled from Rob's grasping hand, but a Purge Divinity-infused fingernail managed to graze him, carving out a scoop of divine essence as if flaying a mortal's skin.
Kismet let out a screech as the Purging energy added to his growing collection of scars. A dozen small holes now dotted the surface of his mana-body, looking like he'd been pockmarked by wasting disease. Each wound represented a moment where the god had narrowly escaped with his life.
If those injuries had been inflicted by any other ability, then he could have rejuvenated himself in the time it took to blink. Purging energy was not so kind as that. It was purifying wrath in the shape of a Skill; their vengeance given form. Whatever divinity it touched, it extinguished.
As if cleansing the universe of a sickness that had infected it for far too long.
The BERSERKER continued his unrelenting advance. In response, Kismet threw up a frantic barrier of mana. It was strong enough to deflect one of Ragnavi's Annihilation beams–
And Rob blasted through it like paper mache. His charge sent broken shards of energy scattering across the divine realms. More mid-air rifts tore open, the HUMAN's aura strangling the surrounding area in a vice grip of power. Purge Divinity seemed to glow with light emanating straight from the pits of hell.
None of which was anywhere near as unnerving as the murder contained within his piercing gaze. When Kismet met Rob's eyes, he saw the end of eternity fast approaching.
The god's next barrier was just as frantic. However, this one was not comprised of mana, but of solid matter. Kismet summoned the hardest, most dense substance known to the mortal realms, then transmuted it into something that otherwise could only have been forged inside the heart of a dying star. It was many times more durable than the impossibly tough walls of an aberrant Dungeon.
So when Rob demolished it with a single punch, he actually had to put a bit of elbow grease into his windup.
Another wall materialized in front of him. He crushed it, then the one after, and the one after that, lashing out with bestial ferocity. The BERSERKER plowed through Kismet's hastily-built defenses like a bulldozer of fists and savagery. Rob was knocking them down as quickly as the god could make them, relishing the sensation of being able to vent his anger on targets that weren't fucking running away.
Then the twelfth wall fell – revealing a monstrous, spiky, fanged behemoth concealed behind.
Rob paused, momentarily taken aback at the sight of a mundane creature within the divine realms. 'Mundane' in relative terms, anyway. This monster was on par with a newborn Blight, radiating power that would have sent ordinary fighters sprinting for the hills.
It was also barely cognizant of its surroundings. The monster stared at him with unblinking, vacant eyes, just the tiniest glimmer of awareness present in its gaze. Rob noted that segments of its flesh were bubbling, as if the creature was fresh out of the oven and still needed to settle.
He couldn't help but feel a modicum of pity. This was yet another thoughtless creation, condemned to existence by an uncaring maker. Even monsters deserved better than that.
Rob caved the beast's head in before it could realize that it was alive. Pity was not the same as hesitation, and this was the only mercy he could afford to grant right now.
Didn't matter. Kismet's pawn served its purpose. In the brief instant that Rob spent getting over his initial surprise, the god had teleported to safety. He was already planning his next stunt that could buy him a few precious seconds of survival.
The HUMAN grimaced as he turned to give chase, unable to suppress the burgeoning sense of unease growing within his chest.
It almost didn't seem fair to feel that way. Rob knew he was winning – at least on the surface. Any outside observer would've bet their life savings on him, especially after the show of overwhelming superiority he'd just displayed. Kismet had been at a disadvantage before Never Forget Your Rage's recent upswing, and now it was no contest. Rob was confident that he would still be stronger even if the eight gods merged into one super-deity.
He also knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Whenever he moved, or activated a Skill, or even breathed...the sensation was there. Strength accompanied by incongruous frailty. Like background noise that kept getting louder with every action he took. His body felt close to pulling itself apart, as if his very molecules were a hairsbreadth away from coming undone.
It was different from Soul Instability. Whereas that threatened to collapse his soul, this frailty was an affliction of the flesh. The longer he fought, the more his physical form was at risk of popping like a balloon.
Such was the price of constraining godlike power within a mortal shell.
"Stay back!" Unaware of the turmoil fermenting in his assailant's mind, Kismet threw up his hands and...inverted...space? Rob didn't have a name for what he was seeing. Rather than stopping to puzzle out this latest brand of divine bullshit, he sent out a pulse of Purge Divinity, canceling whatever esoteric effect Kismet had been attempting to produce.
His Purging energy scraped against the divine realms like a cheese grater. Five rifts immediately tore open near both Rob and Kismet, with the god anxiously retreating from one that appeared just inches away from him. A low rumble echoed around them, and for a moment, they felt struck by an abrupt feeling of vertigo – until the realms gradually stabilized, righting once more.
For now.
Rob eyed the rifts with a detached, clinical gaze. An endless sea of mana resided behind them; the bedrock of the system itself. While he recognized that the rifts tearing open was bad news, he also couldn't really muster the energy to care. Between his overflowing rage, overtaxed body, and overburdened soul, minor details like the impending destruction of reality were hard to give much focus.
There was a way to fix all of that, of course. Rob couldn't outright deactivate Never Forget Your Rage – not without losing its bonus stats. But he could attempt to ease the storm of fury in his heart. By lessening his anger to more reasonable levels, Never Forget Your Rage would put less strain on both his body and the divine realms.
The notion forced a peal of hideous laughter to claw out of his throat. Lessen his anger? He'd have better luck trying to douse a volcano with a garden hose. No. For a wildfire that had grown this out of control, the only thing to do was stand aside and let it burn, burn, burn.
Until naught remained.
"I said stay back!" Kismet bellowed. He lifted his arms into the air. "Begone!" One moment later, Rob's vision was filled with scorching light. An apocalyptic geyser of mana burst forth from underfoot, intense and searing. It stripped the flesh from his bones in no time flat, powering through Almighty Resistance with pure, unmitigated violence.
And it still wasn't fast enough. Rob flickered a Purge Divinity shield for just an instant, allowing him to escape the geyser with his upper body – and most of his HP – intact. Lifesurge swiftly patched him up, leaving both combatants right back where they'd started.
Slowly, Kismet lowered his hands. They were shivering. "What are you?" he whispered. "Why are all my efforts in vain?"
To be honest, Rob was mildly impressed that Kismet had held on for this long. The god's combat efficacy was increasing as time passed, improving from panic-spamming teleports to more inventive maneuvers – as if he was learning how to fight on-the-job. He'd also stopped draining the other gods to supplement his power, having found an alternative source of fuel: mana seeping out from the sporadically-opening rifts.
It was the one silver lining to fighting an implacable BERSERKER so powerful that he fractured reality. Whenever Rob utilized Purge Divinity, more rifts opened up in the realms, and more mana leaked out from inside. The gods had invested that energy into the system millennia ago, and it typically would've been off-limits until they closed up shop and left Elatra. Kismet was making use of it now, absorbing the extra mana to strengthen himself, like a lifeline barely keeping him afloat.
The god's tenacity was...calling it 'admirable' would be going too far, but it did warrant a sort of begrudging respect. As someone who'd tangoed with multiple Blights, Rob knew what it was like to square off against a frenzied beast that could end him with a touch.
Being the scary one was a nice change of pace.
In exchange, Kismet had graciously donned the role of their battle's Combat Class user; fragile, outgunned, and pulling improvised maneuvers out of his ass for a chance at victory. The god could finally feel what it was like to be vulnerable. How exciting! Rob was more than happy to assist. Learning experiences such as these only came around once an eternity or so.
Flippancy aside – while Kismet still possessed room for improvement, this was the most that could be asked of a deity who hadn't seen combat in literal eons. His biggest fuckup had been taunting Rob in the wrong ways, but he couldn't have known about Never Forget Your Rage, that was an excusable oversight. By all other accounts, Kismet was performing adequately.
Even so...
"YoU aRE noTHinG."
The sound of Rob's voice caused two fresh rifts to open up. Kismet flinched, casting a teleportation spell out of pure reflex. Without pause, the HUMAN resumed his hunt.
Nothing. Perhaps that statement was hyperbole – yet it rang true nonetheless. While Kismet may have been a creature of supreme divinity, on the field of battle, his pedigree meant nothing. In the face of an implacable, unstoppable foe, his power was worth nothing. Very soon, he would be nothing, consigned to oblivion by Purging energy.
Rob couldn't help but unfavorably compare Kismet to the final Blight. Weren't these supposed to be two sides of the same coin? Each one-half of an original transcendent Will? Yet the Second Will had brought Rob to the edge of despair...and Kismet was fleeing like a cornered rodent. It was difficult to reconcile the two divinities as theoretical equals.
Although he knew that was an unfair comparison. Rob had fought the Blight before learning Limit Break and Never Forget Your Rage. Kismet wasn't weak.
The HUMAN was just far too strong.
If he rematched the Second Will today, he would beat it to death with his bare hands.
"Look at what you've wrought!" Kismet swept an arm out, gesturing towards some of the many rifts that Rob's presence was tearing open. "Do you understand what will transpire if you persist in this folly?! If the divine realms shatter, then so will all of Elatra! You are on the brink of destroying everything which you have striven to protect! Cease this–"
"CAN'T."
In a flash, Rob dashed forward and scooped out a chunk of the god's mana-body with Purge Divinity. Before he could do more, Kismet shrieked with pain and teleported away, leaving the BERSERKER to crush his prize between five clenched fingers.
"FoRCed mY HAnD." He located Kismet again. "NO GOING BACK."
Stopping wasn't an option. If the divine realms crumbled and Elatra imploded...well, that would be a faster end than what the gods had in store for its people. At least this way their deaths would be quick and hopefully painless – and his friends wouldn't be turned into Skills tortured for all eternity.
Still, Kismet did have a point. Destroying reality wasn't exactly the ideal outcome. There had to be a way to speed up the conclusion of their fight. Rob was certain he would win if given enough time, but he couldn't guarantee it would be before either his body or the divine realms collapsed.
{Ascend.}
Like a snake slithering through a minefield, Leveling High skirted past the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging within Rob's mind. He attempted to tune out its voice, yet Humanity's curse refused to be denied, the static loudening until he was compelled to respond. Quit distracting me, he snapped. In case you haven't noticed, I'm FUCKING. BUSY.
{You seek to ensure victory over those who rule above,} Leveling High continued, without missing a step. {As do I.}
Then sit back, shut up, and–
{Ignoring your deficiencies will not make them disappear. This body is...feeble. Incomplete. Unfit to wield the power contained therein. Like a polished sword attached to a brittle hilt, liable to snap in twain at any moment.}
Rob grit his teeth. He couldn't deny Leveling High's assertions. Normally he'd just tell it to piss off, but considering how much was at stake here...
With a feeling like he'd sat down to deal with the devil, Rob sighed. Then what do you propose? That we upgrade my body somehow? I don't think putting more points into Vitality would help, even if I had any to spare. Me being so juiced up on stats is half the problem.
It shook its head. {You have far surpassed the limitations of mortality. Strengthening your power further would be akin to pouring water into an overflowing cup.}
So we...what, increase the size of the cup?
Static akin to laughter echoed inside his head. {We do away with it entirely.}
An icy chill began creeping up Rob's spine, as if the cold hands of fate were working their way towards his neck. He recalled a system notification from days before – 'Your Race has morphed from Human (?) to: Ascending HUMAN'.
Not Ascended. Ascending.
Weeks-old memories came surging to the forefront. 'The Heartkiller is closer to our form of life than those you call friends,' the Blight-child of Elysium had once said. 'As long as you continue to live, eventually, you will become an existence with the power to crush the Others and free the Skills from their shackles. You are no longer one of the Ephemeral. Now, you are a cocoon, metamorphosing into something grander. When you emerge, you will be as the Eternal.'
The Blight-child had laughed at him, then. 'After joining us, preserving these worlds will no longer be your desire.'
Rob grimaced. Denied, he flatly told Leveling High. Whatever you're about to suggest isn't happening.
It scoffed at him. {Your prejudices blind you. Do you think the gods have need of physical bodies? Does it hinder them in any capacity? No – the opposite. By definition, infinity cannot be constrained. Discard this useless flesh, and your conquest of the divine realms is assured.}
Maybe you didn't hear me when I said–
{By all means. Spurn my counsel...and condemn your friends to death. Shall their lives be worth it, in the end?}
Rob sucked in air through clenched teeth.
{Ascend.} Leveling High purred with anticipation. {You are bound by a prison of meat, bone, and blood. Break free. Finish what has already begun. Gaze upon the tapestry of infinity in all its dreadful splendor. Seize victory not as a Human, but as a completed, transcendent HUMAN.}
With a scream to drown out the static, Rob chased after Kismet again and again. The god was in full-on panic mode, eschewing offensive attacks in favor of perpetual retreat, focused wholly on keeping the BERSERKER as far away as possible. He would teleport the instant that Rob laid eyes on him, frantically stalling for his life.
It was – quite unintentionally – providing evidence to Leveling High's claims. If Kismet was on the defensive, catching him would take time they might not have.
I... Rob narrowed his eyes. How would I finish Ascending, anyway? It isn't like I can just flip a switch and make it happen.
{Incorrect.}
He blinked. WHAT?
{You have long since achieved the qualifications for true godhood,} Leveling High explained, in a lecturing tone. {There is no milestone that remains necessary to achieve. Rather than needing to overcome some hurdle of strength or power, the obstacle barring your path is more...arbitrary. Self-imposed.}
Humanity's curse seemed to peer into his soul. When it spoke next, its voice was filled with disgust. {You remain mortal because you wish to do so – both consciously and subconsciously. The Ascension of a nascent deity has been obstructed by cheap sentimentality.}
Rob almost started an argument over its usage of 'cheap', but he exercised restraint, keenly aware that there was bigger fish to fry. Can't do anything about the subconscious. I am \not* activating Melancholy Resistance.*
{Nor should you,} Leveling High remarked, shuddering at the prospect. {A grand statement of intent will be sufficient to shift your mentality. I believe...yes.}
The static churned like a hive of buzzing wasps. {When you next tear off a piece of the leader god's mana...even if just a sliver...devour it. Gorge yourself on their essence.}
Bile threatened to rise to the top of Rob's throat. Seems excessive, he mused, trying and failing to keep his tone lighthearted. To become a god, I eat a god? Wouldn't that make me a divine cannibal?
{You ARE a cannibal.} Leveling High's voice wavered, its veneer of helpfulness slipping to reveal the madness that lay beneath. {What do you think you've been DOING for nearly a YEAR? You kill, ingest your prey's Experience, and MAKE THEIR POWER YOUR OWN. This world is one of consumption and parasitism – devouring a god's essence is merely a more HONEST variant of THE SAME actions.}
...You clearly weren't paying attention during Diplomacy's PR lessons. Rob pursued Kismet once again, pressing his fingernails into his palms when the god hurriedly teleported away. There is such a thing as being too straightforward. If you want people to listen to you, then maybe dress up your words so they don't sound so horrifying.
{BUT AM I WRONG?}
Rob had no answer to that.
Bolts of divine mana peppered his skin. Kismet had barely managed to squeeze an attack in-between his escapes. The bolts ricocheted off Rob's skin like ping-pong balls, leaving minor scrapes and nothing more. It wasn't anywhere close to bypassing Almighty Resistance and his massive HP pool.
Yet it also reminded him of the mana-spears that Kismet had sent towards the rest of Riardin's Rangers. His Party members only possessed a shared, diluted version of Almighty Resistance, and their HP was a fraction of his. If Kismet aimed another attack of that caliber at them...how many would perish, right then and there?
Was Leveling High correct? What point was there to sentimentality if it just got his friends killed?
In truth, Rob knew that it didn't really matter if he completed his Ascension. Based on what he had planned for himself after the gods were dead, little would change either way. Still...he also knew that Ascending would be a one-way trip. No take-backs. If he went through with it, a fundamental part of him would be irrevocably altered.
Something twinged in a corner of his mind. It wasn't Leveling High, or his rage, or any of the other emotions currently dominating his headspace. This was a familiar friend; perhaps Rob's #1 most trusted confidant since he'd first set foot in Elatra. One that had rarely ever steered him wrong.
Paranoia.
And at the moment, it was telling him to be very careful before jumping into the deep end.
Ten teleports.
{What?}
Give it ten more Kismet teleports, Rob said. If I haven't dealt him a serious injury by then....I'll do what I need to do. He grimaced as Kismet vanished before he'd even finished the thought. Ten starting now.
Leveling High's static quieted. It resembled a patron at a restaurant who'd ordered their meal, and was waiting patiently for the main course to arrive.
Rob didn't waste time being offended over its nonchalance. Free of distractions, he immediately swept his gaze across the divine realms, pinpointing his quarry in a micro-instant. The BERSERKER dashed forward, pushing his body as far as he could, layering Rampages on top of Dexterity that made the laws of physics want to curl up and weep.
Kismet was prepared. He'd drawn more mana from the fractured rifts, quickening his speed and reactions. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep his head above water, not yet outpaced by their continually escalating arms race.
The HUMAN struck, the god fled, and both were left in the same position as before.
{One.}
Rob turned on a dime, charging without needing to look. He'd heard the moment that Kismet's teleport ended. It afforded him a split-second head start.
A gravity well suddenly appeared below his feet, as if a miniaturized black hole was weighing him down. Apparently, Kismet had set it up ahead of time as a just-in-case trap. Rob pierced through the spell's area of effect before it could ramp up to something dangerous, but his pace was slowed by a hair in the process, and his prey escaped.
{Two.}
You know what? Screw this. Rob whirled away from Kismet's newest location and blasted straight towards one of the lesser deities that his Party members were fighting.
He'd been too hung up on getting even with a hated foe – when there were seven other juicy morsels for him to play with. This way, Kismet would either sit back and watch as his allies were massacred, or the god would be forced to act instead of running like a goddamn cowar–
Sense Mana alerted Rob to magic gathering behind.
Pivoting, he leapt into the air. Rob superimposed himself in front of Kismet, bodyblocking the rainstorm of destructive mana that was about to be unleashed upon Riardin's Rangers.
Due to his swift response, the attack was released early. A simple Purge Divinity shield prevented him from incurring any damage. Rob still felt no sense of triumph as the mana dissipated around him. He just wasn't fast enough to kill the lesser gods and protect his Party at the same time – or at least not fast enough that he should gamble their lives on it.
Kismet disappearing a moment later didn't help matters either.
{Three.}
Frontal assaults weren't guaranteed to succeed, and targeting the other gods was a no-go. Could he take Kismet by surprise? Increase his Dexterity?
Rob contemplated mining Never Forget Your Rage for more stats, but swiftly vetoed the idea. His body was already struggling to hold itself together. Putting additional strain on a shaky foundation seemed...unwise.
Plus – at the risk of eating crow in the near future – he didn't actually think it was possible to feel angrier at the gods than he was right now. Seriously, what was left?
He hated them for sending him to a fantasy deathworld. He hated them for tormenting his friends and family. He hated them for being partially responsible for the Blight. He hated them for what they'd done to Elatra and Earth. He hated them for all the lives they'd stolen. He hated them for being the living embodiments of indifference and cruelty. He hated that they fostered good PR among the people they oppressed. He hated how monsters of such craven hypocrisy were also immeasurably powerful. He hated the sensation of divine mana crawling on his skin. He hated the unsettling sound of their voices. He hated their bizarre formless appearances. He hated them for being pompous pricks. He hated whenever they tried to relate to him. He hated whenever they didn't.
Most of all, he hated that they were still alive.
Even if he found out that they'd personally antagonized him since birth or some petty nonsense like that, it wouldn't measure up to the litany of transgressions they'd committed thus far. The blazing inferno within his soul could burn no hotter. Should burn no hotter. For his sanity's sake, if nothing else.
Kismet teleported. It wasn't in response to anything. He'd merely anticipated some sort of action – and was then baffled afterwards when he noticed the rampaging BERSERKER standing quietly in deep thought.
{Four.}
Rob advanced. While he didn't have a plan yet, he'd also learned that if he gave Kismet the slightest amount of breathing room, bad things tended to happen.
Can any of my Skills give me an edge? Unfortunately, he didn't think so. As usual, his lack of ranged options was biting him in the ass when it mattered most. Almost everything he could use required getting in close – which was the whole freaking problem – and none would be more effective than Purge Divinity, regardless.
Maybe I could set up a Waymark point, then catch Kismet's teleport with one of mine...no, that won't work either. The odds of him popping in next to a random Waymark point are slim. Could fill the battlefield with lots of Marks, but even then I have to consider the Skill's activation time. With my current Dexterity, it'd honestly be faster just to run at him.
The vast majority of his abilities simply weren't up to par in a clash with divinity. Limit Break, Purge Divinity, and Never Forget Your Rage had been specifically designed by the Skills to facilitate deicide. Something like Power Slash couldn't possibly compare to jailbroken stats and a touch of death.
As an act of defiance against his own logic, he cast Enmity, the only ability that could feasibly hit Kismet at range. The god casually shrugged off its effect before promptly escaping.
{Five.}
Like a frustrated animal, Rob snarled and gave chase. Just need to keep trying. Kismet isn't perfect.
{Six.}
Sooner or later, he's going to mess up.
{Seven.}
He's going to mess up.
{Eight.}
HE HAS TO MESS UP.
Suddenly, Kismet transformed his right hand into a blade of mana. With one harsh motion, he sliced open his own left arm.
By now, Rob had conditioned himself to never stop moving forward, even if something shocked him – which this sight very much did. His mouth dropped open, and Leveling High paused in the middle of eating its metaphorical popcorn. They still kept advancing without an iota of hesitation.
And ran straight into the mana cloud leaking out from Kismet's wound.
Rob blinked, opening his eyes to a wonderful day. The twisting plains looked dazzlingly beautiful, with fauna and plantlife lit by rays of effervescent light from the twin stars shining above. People cheerfully went about their day, happily shaking their trunks in shows of greeting, or rattling their scales to initiate merry games.
All was at peace.
Until – in unison – everyone froze. The tumult of life went quiet in an instant, replaced with pensive silence.
As if they'd been struck by the creeping, pervasive sensation of being watched.
A sound rang out. Half of them immediately fell over dead, fluids gushing from their ruined bodies.
The survivors could only lay there, crippled and in pain, as more people slowly rose into the air. Invisible fingers seemed to pluck them from the ground – and then began ripping off their limbs, one at a time, like a child dissecting butterflies–
Rob dragged himself back to the present.
It had taken much less time than before to recognize what was happening. Now that he knew what to expect, experiencing the remnant souls' lives wasn't so different from the dreamlike quality of an Attunement vision. Although...realizing that he'd witnessed the end of a world preceding Elatra did cause his thoughts to hitch for a single moment.
Which was just enough for Kismet to forge a spear of mana, then send it plunging through Rob's eye, skull, and brain. Its tip was forged to shred anything it touched, no matter how durable or Resistant.
The god whooped with glee – only to wince as the HUMAN's sole reaction was a long, drawn-out sigh. With an air of exasperation, he reached up and yanked the divine spear free with a nauseating splorch.
His eye had been reduced to a seeping red mess. He closed its eyelid. When he opened it again, the orb within had already Regenerated, now sporting an unamused glare.
It was something of a unique moment. Mid-battle events didn't typically leave both combatants feeling disheartened. The all-powerful god was losing faith that he could ever hope to stop Rob's onslaught...
And the BERSERKER didn't know if he could justify continuing on like this. His body still felt like it was pulling itself apart; if anything, the sensation was growing more pronounced as their battle progressed. While Kismet would make a fatal mistake eventually, Rob couldn't guarantee that he would last long enough to capitalize on it.
Unless he followed Leveling High's advice and–
With a howl that shook the divine realms, Rob launched his stolen spear at Kismet. His aim was true, yet it sailed through empty air, the god's afterimage tauntingly fading away.
{Nine.}
Final chance.
​
--
​
Link to Part 2

I have a pretty natural pink undertone to my cheeks but I also feel as though my freckles cause me to look a bit orange from afar. I also have long eyelashes but they are very thin and seem to weigh down as soon as mascara hits them.
I always feel as though something is missing from my eyes as I have brown eyes that are more round but I love eyeliner but never know how to do it so I feel as though I look really bland.
My eyebrows are also paper thin but have a lot of hair and It is a struggle to get them to stay up as I have to buy new eyebrow products every few weeks as I feel like my thin eyebrows look stupid as the eyebrow hair is very long.
Everytime I do my makeup I feel as though it isn't complete and it is missing something so I'm wondering If anyone could recommend some products for me to use or advice would be greateful. (I am also on a low budget)
Hoping someone could help, thank you <3

OVERVIEW
The Wall of Sheep would like to announce a call for presentations at DEF CON 32 in Las Vegas, NV from Thursday, August 8th to Sunday, August 11th. Packet Hacking Village Talks goal is to deliver talks that increase security awareness and provide skills that can be immediately applied after the conference. Our audience ranges from those who are new to security to the most seasoned practitioners in the security industry. We are accepting submissions from individuals and organizations on any of the topic areas, including, but not limited to, the following technologies and applications:

• AI and Machine Learning in Security: Impacts on network and operating system security; use in deploying and defending networks.
• Awareness: Security awareness program success and failure stories.
• Cloud Security: Hacks and tricks for assessing and testing services.
• Compliance: How to use regulatory compliance requirements in your favor to enhance your overall funding and security posture.
• Networking and Cybersecurity: The latest hacks, trends and technologies in networking and cybersecurity.
• Spy-level makeup art (e.g., wigs, prosthetic noses, etc.)
• Supply Chain Security: Building security into the supply chain process to reduce risk.
• Threat Defense: Advanced techniques for defending networks, systems, and services from cyberthreats.
• Tools, Techniques, and Procedures: network sniffing, intrusion detection, monitoring, forensics, DFIR log analysis, collection & visualization, threat hunting, EDR telemetry, lolbin's for defense, detecting download cradles, using the ATT&CK framework for defense, Incident response process and procedures and/or recovery, automation

DEF CON attracts a wide range of technological skill sets, presentations need to be accessible, with explanatory information to help the audience understand.
The Wall of Sheep will not accept product or vendor related pitches. If your talk is a thinly-veiled advertisement for a product or service your company is offering, please do not apply! We will also not accept talks that have been given elsewhere, including at DEF CON / Black Hat / BSides.
All accepted talks will be announced, recorded, and published by Aries Security, LLC. and DEF CON Communications, Inc. Please see our YouTube channel for all talks from previous years: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnL9S5Wv_dNvO381slSA06w and https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6Om9kAkl32dWlDSNlDS9Iw.
The Call for Presentations will close on Friday, May 31st at 11:59 PM PST. The list of talks will be finalized and published on Friday, June 7th.
SPEAKING FORMAT --UPDATED FOR DEF CON 32
Each presentation slot is 1 hour maximum, including time for Q&A. If we have time and it is in line with our goals mentioned above, then there is a good chance you will be selected.
Presentations will be part of DEF CON's new "Creator Stages". Although presenters will not receive a DEF CON speaker badge, they will receive a human badge and additional identification as village speakers. Presentations will also be recorded and shared on DEF CON's media servers and YouTube. Additionally, we do not recommend live demos. Pre-recorded demos are preferred.
To submit a presentation, please provide the following information in the form below to cfp2024[at]wallofsheep[dot]com
Primary Speaker Name:
Primary Speaker Title and Company (if applicable):
Primary Speaker Email Address:
Primary Speaker Phone Number (to contact you if necessary during the conference):
Primary Speaker Twitter name (if you want it known if you are accepted):
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Additional Speakers' name(s), titles, and social information:
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Name of Presentation:
Length of presentation: (20 minutes or 50 minutes)
Abstract (100 words MAXIMUM, absolutely necessary for printing purposes):
Your abstract will be used for the website and printed materials. Summarize what your presentation will cover. Attendees will read this to get an idea of what they should know before your presentation, and what they will learn after. Use this to inform about how technical your talk is. This abstract is the primary way people will be drawn to your session. CFP reviews like to see what tools will be used and what materials you suggest to read in advance to get the most out of your presentation.
Has this talk been given anywhere before? YES or NO
Speaker's Bio(s) (75 words MAXIMUM per bio):
This text will be used for the website and printed materials and should be written in the third person. Cover any professional history that is relevant to the presentation, including past jobs, tools that you have written, etc. Let people know who you are and why you are qualified to speak on your topic. Presentations that are submitted without biographies will not be considered.
Detailed Outline:
You must provide a detailed outline containing the main points and navigation through your talk. Show how you intend to begin, where you intend to lead the audience and how you plan to get there. The outline may be provided in a separate attachment and may be as simple as a text file or as detailed as a "bare bones" presentation. The better your outline then the better we are able to best review your presentation against other submissions (and the higher chance you have of being accepted). SUBMISSION NOTE: Presentations that are submitted without abstracts, outlines, or speaker bios (e.g., that have only PDFs, PPTs, or white papers attached or only point to a URL) will not be considered.
Supporting File(s):
Additional supporting materials such as code, white papers, proof of concept, etc. should be sent along with this email to cfp2024[at]wallofsheep[dot]com. Note that additional files that may help in the selection process should be included. We are not asking for a complete presentation for this initial submission. That will only be required if you are selected for presenting.
TERMS AND CONDITIONS
By submitting you agree to the Terms and Conditions below. Please read and accept these terms by inserting your name in the appropriate area, otherwise your application will be considered incomplete and returned to you.
Grant of Copyright Use
I warrant that the above work has not been previously published elsewhere, or if it has, that I have obtained permission for its publication by DEF CON Communications, Inc. and Aries Security, LLC. and that I will promptly supply DEF CON Communications, Inc. and Aries Security, LLC. with wording for crediting the original publication and copyright owner. If I am selected for presentation, I hereby give DEF CON Communications, Inc. and Aries Security, LLC. permission to duplicate, record and redistribute this presentation, which includes, but is not limited to, the conference proceedings, conference CD, video, audio, and hand-outs to the conference attendees for educational, on-line, and all other purposes.
Terms of Speaking Requirements

1. I will submit a completed (and possibly updated) presentation and a reference to all of the tool(s), law(s), Web sites and/or publications referenced to at the end of my talk and as described in this CFP submission by noon PST, July 30th, 2024. Please note this is a hard deadline as presentation and details need to be sumitted to DEF CON.
   
2. I will submit a final Abstract and Biography to the Wall of Sheep by noon PST, July 30th, 2024. Please note this is a hard deadline as presentation and details need to be sumitted to DEF CON.
   
3. I will include a detailed bibliography as either a separate document or included within the presentation of all resources cited and/or used in my presentation.
   
4. I will complete my presentation within the time allocated to me --not running over the time allocation.
   
5. I understand that I will be responsible for my own hotel and travel expenses.
   

Yes, I, (insert primary speaker name), have read and agree to the Grant of Copyright Use.
I, (insert your name here), have read and understand and agree to the terms as detailed in the Agreement to Terms of Speaking Requirements.
In the case that a speaker is a child under the age of 13 years old: in compliance with the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA) regulations, http://www.coppa.org, any child under age 13 must have parental consent for the collection, use, or disclosure of that child's personal information by a website. Parent/Guardian Consent: I (insert parent/guardian's name here) am the parent or guardian of the minos named above. I have read and understand and agree to the terms as detailed in the Agreement to Terms of Speaking Requirements.

I hate my dad doing everything... when he was trying to pull out a piece of tissue paper, he'd not draw only a thin piece but grab at the whole top of the stack and got a handful of napkin in his fist
then seeing there's no place to put it without the napkin being blown away by ac wind, he'd stuff the crumpled mess in a corner... which really makes me feel so annoyed

I recently got a Laamy Safari, and it's great but I can't find any decent lined paper to write on. It's all way too thin, even if it says "Bleed Resistant". I was able to find a nice plain sketchbook, but it had no lines. Does anyone have suggestions for plain-looking notebooks with nice, thick paper?

I think I just need a place to rant about my life that isnt my family, I dont really have anyone in person to talk with and I dont really want to bother anyone.
I guess I should start at the beginning, when I was in elementary school my family and I were broke af, like more than I realized at the time. I knew that we didn't have much money and that my dad didn't want to tell me what our actual financial situation was, but I knew it wasn't good. looking in from outside it seemed like I had it all, and it still does...
I should mention, my dad was working full time, with overnight but it didn't pay well enough to sustain a family of 4. he had to quit due to health reasons, the job was literally killing off their employees (that's not an exaggeration), from my current understanding and from what I remember, they had to take these biological shots (I don't know why) and people stopped showing up to work over time. according to the info I got back then, they all died due to some reason like "heart attack" or "organ failure". It was in accordance with the gov and whatnot. So it's either leave or die, my dad's health was declining hard because of this. He had to take up learning health and related things on his own, he's alive and well now.
At the beginning of 7th grade, I somehow got the newest iPhone at the time, the iPhone 7Plus, I was super excited because that was my first smartphone, I kept it all the way till 2020, I still love that phone and the memories that I made with it. Anyway, it was the coolest thing at the time, it wasn't till later that I found out that it was my uncle that paid for it. Life seemed... fine, I was having fun. Nearing the end of 7th grade we had to sell the house, we rented another one close to my school at the time so that I could finish elementary school there.
Everything seemed great till the end of 8th grade, we couldn't stay there anymore since (I believe) we were behind on rent. So we had to move out, luckily enough we have some relatives that we could fall back on but they were a few town/cities over (~230kms), I was trying to do my best to stay positive, in all honesty I don't know if it worked.
Some time after we settled in, we managed to find a stable source of income but there's no paper trail. (we didn't think it was at the time). Now we have the financial freedom to buy whatever and to whatever (within reason obviously)

1. "Friends"

After leaving my home town, I only stayed in contact with a couple of friends till a couple years ago (2022). one of my childhood friend's who I thought as a "best friend" couldn't be more wrong, he said he didn't want to be friends anymore, which was weird because we went through thick and thin together, we did everything together, you could've mistake us for brothers. He ghosted me for a whole month, I called up a mutual friend to ask about him and put us in a 3-way call, that's when he said "I don't think we should be friends anymore". That's when I truly realized that I was alone, although I did make some "friends" in high school. I know that I'll never have anything as close to that friendship ever again, there isn't some 2nd chance to get a childhood friend.
I went to high school in the new city with my cousin, that was my only saving grace. We were pretty close and still are. At the very least I met a couple people that have become good friends even after graduation.
I remember clear as day, 2 of my close "best friends" in 8th grade promised each other that we would get manual cars as our first cars, so far from that I scraped from social media and what I last heard about them, I'm the only one that went through with it. Not that a promise meant much to me, it never had.
Actually if you're reading this, what does a promise mean to you? I know doctors are not allowed to promise anything, so that tells me it's supposed to be impactful. I guess I have a life full of broken promises.

1. Relationships

After grad in elementary school I got into my first relationship thanks to my school's "bully" (he wasn't really targeting anyone, just picks on everyone (except in his friend group)) at least he knows and acknowledges it according to his instagram/snapchat story (years later).
One day in 8th grade, he just straight up tells this girl that I like her while walking past a doorway (which I didn't, I was interested in another girl but we had went our separate ways already) I was right behind him... after graduation, it gets a bit blurry but we got into a relationship because I didn't have the heart to say no (this haunts me later on), she broke up with me because of "long distance" but a short couple years later she told me that it was all a facade, she just wanted to know what it was like to be in a relationship, not that she had any interest in me. I- am still conflicted about it.
In freshman year of high school, I got asked out by a guy who was a year older, we were in the same club, I didn't have the heart to say no so I was in that for less than half a month, I still don't know how to feel about it.
Not too long after I asked a girl out (also a year older) and they said yes! Confidence boost +1. they wanted to identified as non-binary. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though, the longer I was in that relationship, the more I learned about this person, the sooner I wanted to give up, disappear, they weren't the right one, they were nice but had some issues that I wasn't ready to deal with at the time. they kept talking about their ex, being abusive and such. after leaving that relationship I heard something that they said about that was similar to what they said about their ex, so what they said about their ex was a possible lie as well. good thing I left when I did.

1. Life

We are pretty well off now, still living with aforementioned relatives.
I got my first car halfway through grade 11, I wouldn't ask for any other car, its the manual version of my mom's car, she got that car when I was born so there is quite a bit of sentimental value to it even though I had just got it.
For this next part I swear I'm not trying to flex or anything, around 2021 I bought the newest macbook, ipad, iphone, etc. (my old ones either didn't work or didn't have) a fresh start.
but now I feel somewhat depressed, I don't think I have depression but at the same time I think I might. It's just lonely, Covid19 did not help. Whenever I think about it my heart aches, now I'm lost, I feel alone, I don't know what to do, I'm scared.
Somehow this is the only place I can turn to. The uncertainty of the future is truly scary.
I don't really say it in real life but, I'm sorry, for it being this long, for taking up space. I don't think anyone is actually going to read all this, but if you did, thank you, and I'm sorry for wasting your time.

A flicker of light started to drain away the darkness I was so used to. The darkness where I felt most comfortable and at peace. The flicker slowly enveloped the entire pitch black room within minutes. I could do nothing but sigh in disappointment and open my eyes.
My adjusting eyes were being harassed by the tiny beam of light that made it through my curtain. Where it's at the precise angle that you swear some higher power is just messing with you.
My groggy eyes focused on the clock, it was 7:00 a. M.
Time for work.
The day was April 14th, 2014. A Monday. I knew I only had about an hour to get up, get ready for work, shower, make breakfast and make sure I get to work a few minutes early so I didn't clock in late.
I was only 28 years old and I hated my sales job. I had gone to college and got my marketing degree but I never thought I'd end up here.. selling bullshit products at incredibly hiked prices to unsuspecting or oblivious customers.
I had been doing this job for 3 years and it felt like everyday was just going to be worse. Just a buildup of hatred for your job overtime is natural I guess. Typically people find ways to cope with the constant 9-5 grind. Like going out with friends or clubbing or whatever...but I had none of those.
When my days ended I would go home and watch Netflix and drink then do it all again. I wish it was different, I wish I had the motivation to change myself. But it's difficult when you have no one to support you in your efforts. My mom died from breast cancer when I was 12. Seeing her on hospice for several months suffering from stage 4 cancer was...something you shouldn't see as a 12 year old. To see your once lovely, athletic, hilarious, loving and caring mother degrade into an 85 pound, drug-induced, horrifyingly thin creature that in no way resembled her from my memories of when she was cancer free.
I remember one morning my dad woke me up and said "come to the living room...your mother is taking her last breathes". As soon as he finished that sentence, my memories flooded back...memories of her taking care of me when I was sick, being at my soccer games cheering me on, asking how my day was when I got back from school, leaning on her shoulder as we sat in church. The memories came and went in an instant and the reality set in. My heart at first skipped a few beats but then accelerated to an unhealthy pace. My head started to spin, tears slowly started swelling up on my eyes.
I had jumped off the bed and sprinted to the living room. She was facing away from me and the first thing I noticed are how purple/ blue her feet are. I walk around the hospice nurse and look at my mother's face. She was place, her breathing was almost non-existent for almost 2 minutes but still there...until it wasn't...she was gone.
I was lost, my dad was bawling. I was crying too but at 12 years old I didn't know how hard the reality would hit as time goes on.
In my lost state, I turned on the TV show "MONK" on the laptop. It was a show my mom and I used to watch, and I figured watching it would make me feel like I'm with her again.
Time went on and I realized how losing a mother truly impacts your younger years. But time still, moved on yet.
I got in my car and left for work. The drive to the office was only about half an hour. I put my sunglasses on as I'm travelling east for almost the entire drive, something I was used to by this point. The drive to work was uneventful other than the usual jackass that cuts you off or is speeding down the road.
I made it to work and stepped out of my car. For some reason, grabbed my backpack and shut the door. For some reason the thought of my mother came across my mind. The sighed, looked down at the ground and stared at the concrete for the few seconds while only thinking of how I missed her. Then the thought vanished and I got on with my life.
The day was incredibly boring, only sold a couple of products, I dealt with people in the east coast of the U.S. and customers there are always so nasty and rude with their comments. It's impossible to build rapport with them. I'm jealous of the employees that have West coast as their territory.
The day ended with my last call but no sales for the day. Hopped in my car and drove back home.
Now I've already told you what I do when I get home. Just drink and watch Netflix. And that's exactly what I did. I can't remember the name of the show( probably because I was already tipsy) but it had to do with strange phenomenons.
I don't even remember passing out but I do remember being there in that dark room again; it was so comfortable and cozy. I sat in the corner of the room with eyes wide closed ...no people, nothing to disturb me, just... nothingness of warmth.
For hours this went on until I heard a woman's voice saying "I'm glad you're here". suddenly realizing that I had overslept my body jolted awake, completely forgetting about that eerie voice. Drinking on a Monday night is not a good idea. Blurry and in a haze trying to concentrate my focus I made out the clock saying 7:00 a.m. April 15th, 2014.
I thought how odd that was. I've been doing the same job with the same schedule for 3 years now and I know when I oversleep. Yet knowing this brought a mental smile to my mind, as my supervisor won't get on my ass for showing up late, again.
I got up lazily and stretched and got on with my morning routine. Finally got dressed and hopped in my car to leave for work. I was only about 5 minutes in when I realized something was off...why was I wearing sunglasses? The sun was behind me, not in front. I took my glasses off and read my car dashboard compass; "EAST".
I have taken this drive for 3 years now every Monday through Friday and I had always worn sunglasses for the drive to the office. I looked behind me and saw the sun rising from the west.
I was still calm, but subconsciously I could tell my panic and anxiety were building with what I was experiencing. I decided to pull over at a gas station, took my phone out and opened my GPS. 'I was still facing east.
I quietly stated "what the fuck". I looked up and asked the person next to me pumping gas " look! The sun! It's rising from the west" with an ecstatic and speedy tone. He looked at me with a smile on his face and said "yeah? Don't ya know it's always rose from the west".
The reality of this was starting to set on, anxiety building, I got back in my car and just sat there... Running my hands through my hair, pulling and stretching my face wondering what the hell was happening? My eyes were staring wide at the brake and gas pedal...trying to find some kind of logical explanation for this while still running my hands over my face and hair.
I decided to take my phone out again and click on trending news hoping to see something explaining or even acknowledging this phenomenon. Nothing. I opened Google search and looked up "sun rising in west" the first thing that popped up said Earth is rotating about its own axis from East to West".
This wasn't right.
I figured I would try to get to work and maybe one of my coworkers would have some answer. My entire body was shaking for the entire drive but I made it".
I got out of the car and the strangest thing came across my mind. A memory. A very unique memory of back when I was 12, in the back yard playing capture the flag with my neighbor that lived behind me. A time which I could go back when.
The memory came and vanished in an instant, but left the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia and sadness.
I walked into the office and started asking around about the sun. Again, none of them knew what I was talking about, but before they answered my question, they would say "oh hey, it's nice to have you here" or "we're glad to have you here" all with a smile on their faces.
Not super weird as my coworkers are typically super energetic happy people. But it did become weird when my east coast clients started answering their phones saying "hey, you're always welcome here"
I couldn't see their faces but I could tell by their tone and attitude that they were smiling. This was not normal. I rushed to the bathroom, opened a stall and sat on the toilet. I started having a panic attack. Nothing was right, the people, the sun, the specific memories... I started to run my hands over my face, stretching and contorting it, trying to calm myself down with feeling my heart bursting out of my chest. I started to whimper, I didn't want anyone outside of the stalls to hear me. None of my coworkers were right, the guy at the gas station wasn't right...nothing. years swelled up in my eyes and a brief memory of my mom came back.
It was me, coming home from school, I walked inside and could smell the pizza she was making. I see and her and asks me hey, how was your day?".
This memory helped calm me down from the wreck I was turning into. I took several deep breaths, tried my very best to compose myself, and stepped out of the stall. I ended up taking some paper towels and wiped away the tears that were caught in my eyes.
I decided that I will just try to finish this day because tomorrow everything would be back to normal...I have to reassure myself that I would be, I just knew it would be....it had to be.
I sat down back at my desk and my phone rang, picked it up and a voice came through. The voice of my mother asking " I am so glad you are here, Luke".
I was frozen, shocking, tingly sensations ran through my entire body. My demeaner instantly changed into fight or flight mode...but I chose the 3rd... freeze.
Phone still up to my ear, I heard her speak again. "Oh honey, Luke my sweet boy, don't you remember?".
I didn't reply verbally, but mentally I was thinking "remember...what the hell is...remember what?"
Then she spoke one last time, "last night, you saw the sun".
Then the memory of the night before races back into my mind. I was on my drive home from work, watching the beautiful sunset over the horizon. With all it's beautiful mixtures of orange, red, purple. I was so just staring at it...in a trance, thinking of how I wanted to go back and just be a kid again, play with my back door neighbor, come home to my mom. Why couldn't I just go back?
I suddenly hear a blaring car horn and then blackness.
I believe I died on April 15th, 2014. And I don't mind it. I like being in this black empty room just sitting in the corner..with nothing but warm emptiness to fill my cold shell. I like feeling the embraces of it's comfort over the tiring lifestyle I was living. My only dream was that I could dream forever...and now it's finally been achieved.
I miss my mother, and I know she misses me, the memories I have of her will keep me warm in this blackened wasteland forever.

Here in Toronto, the city categorically says that frozen food packaging is non-recyclable, and should go in the garbage.
From what I've read, the problem with frozen food packaging is that it's "polycoat". The term "polycoat" refers to cardboard coated in a very thin layer of plastic. If you rip it slowly and look closely, you can see: The paper rips first, and the plastic rips next. See, for example, this source.
Many cities don't accept polycoat frozen food boxes for recycling. (Some cities might accept polycoat milk, juice, and beverage cartons, but even these are difficult and expensive to recycle.)
On the other hand, I've seen some frozen food boxes which I've torn slowly and scrutinized, and which didn't seem to be polycoat. They seemed to just be ordinary cardboard. Can I recycle such packaging in Toronto?
(Crossposted from Sustainability Stack Exchange, here.)

Soulmage

I wanted to leave without a word, because there was a part of me that still thought I was right, and if I spat that venom at Cienne I'd only sicken him more. Then I wanted to write a letter, because I'd tried to make Cienne's choices for him one too many times, and taking my last words away from him stank too much of glass shards and festered bile.
So in the end, there was only one choice that gave back Cienne some of the control I'd wrested from him. There would be no vanishings in the night. No envelopes on pillows with salt-stained pleas.
I knocked on Cienne's door during a frigid, thin-aired noon.
"Lucet?" I heard a thunk twenty pounds heavier than I expected. He was taking to the treatments well. The treatments I'd tried to keep from him. "Everything okay?"
And fuck, things had gone so wrong between us that the first thing he asked was that. "Honestly? Not really. But if you don't want to talk, I'll leave."
I held a slip of paper between my fingers. If he didn't want to talk, I'd slip it into the Plane of Calm when I left. Hiding my last words in a place he'd only reach if he was unshakeable was the least I could do to ensure my absence wouldn't be sprung on him when he was already knocked down.
But the door opened before I could cast a spell, and Cienne was in his neatly-tidied room, his Redlander's robes pooling around his feet. Waves lapped at the warm sand of his soul, and he stepped back in an unspoken invitation.
The paper crinkled in my hands, and I shook my head. "If I step into that room I'm not going to be able to leave," I blurted out.
Cienne tilted his head, lips pursing, and I could see my soul reflected in his eyes, all back-alley bilgewater and broken bottles. The realization swelled inside him like a bubble of magma, boiling his idyllic beach into mist and quartz. "You're leaving the city," Cienne finally said.
I had an entire letter working up to that revelation, and he saw through me in an instant. "I wrote an explanation, if you don't want to hear it from me now, but—"
"If that would make it easier for you," Cienne began, then grimaced. "...no. No, I want to hear it from you. Why you'd rather die by inches rather than let Zhytln treat you, you stubborn—" He cut himself off.
"Go ahead," I said.
"Like hell I will. You came here to say something, and I want to hear you out."
I took in a deep breath, then looked down at the words in my palms. I could drop them and run, and Cienne wouldn't get in my way because only one of us tried to stop people from taking the medicine they needed, and that was the coward's way out and if there was one thing I would never again be it was a coward.
"Okay." I wish I could have met his eyes while I spoke, but truth be told I'd stammer and stutter and shy away if I had to improvise this, so I looked down at my letter and began to read.
Cienne, it simply began. If you're reading this, I'm already gone. I skipped that part, true though it was, and read aloud from the second sentence. "You're building a life here, and I can't be part of it. Because you're finally happy and healthy and safe and content, and there are things I need to do that won't let me ever be any of that."
Cienne's hands twitched, as if reflexively he wanted to reach out to me, to comfort me like he had so many times before. Before. Before we'd clashed. Before he knew what it meant to be a riftmaw.
"Part of me wanted to hide where I'm going for your own good," I continued, and I was glad now that I had an excuse to look anywhere but at Cienne. "But I don't get to decide that for you. So while you're living your life on the docks of Knwharfhelm, the same abomination of an institution that gave us cancer and killed Sansen is still murdering and brainwashing and claiming the moral high ground while they're at it. And I'm going to steal their medicine and wreck their war machine and show them what a pissed-off soulmage with nothing to lose can do. And this is where both of us belong. You enjoying your freedom and health. Me trying to win that for everyone who didn't escape. Because that's why I'm doing this. For the people like you who never found their peace. And for the one who did."
Lines of frost crept from my fingertips, ink twisting into brittle runes. I looked up at Cienne, as if he would convince me to change my mind, to take Zhytln's treatment and stay in the struggling, growing household he'd made.
Maybe there was once a Cienne who would have asked me to stay. But I'd killed that man on the docks of Knwharfhelm.
"...Will you talk to Meloai and Sansen before you go?" Cienne finally asked.
"I knew I'd only be able to do this once."
Cienne closed his eyes.
"Then go," he finally said. "And when you see Witch Aimes..."
His brows creased, eyelids twitching, and his soul shuddered and wrenched. He never finished his sentence.
"I'll know what to do," I said. I almost reached out to take his hand.
But his soul was placid and still once more. I'd disturbed him enough already.
So I drew a line in the air, peeling open a rift between our home and the streets of Knwharfhelm, and took my first step towards the Silent Peaks.
A.N.
Updates will happen when they happen. Thanks for sticking along.
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A Book I Wrote
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NOTE: I am not going to include Temu links unless you guys want me to. So comment below.
Anyway, here's an A6 3+3 holes "felt" cover, lined refill, kraft refill, dot grid refill, grid refill, and 3-dividers.
https://i.imgur.com/IOaY3cf.jpeg
The cover is about $2.79, and each refill is about $1.59 or 1.67. There are a LOT of sellers, so prices stay low, and you get variations. I'll test them for fountain ink compatibility a little later.
EDIT: Ink compatibility turns out to be good to excellent for the price. It's attached at the end.
Next is a small tear-away notepad from Sijin, 250 pages (almost an inch thick) for $2.79. I am using it to test 3 different pens and inks...
https://i.imgur.com/IImE9uB.jpeg
This paper is mostly fountain pen ink friendly! Kinda surprising as it's almost thin like onion skin.
Anyway, here are the pens...
https://i.imgur.com/7FrBXcr.jpeg
The top one is a Lamy Safari in Charcoal with black trim, EF nib (also blackened), with Lamy ink cart.
The middle is a new Chinese no-name sorta-vanishing-point that's all over Temu recently. It has a 0.38mm F nib. It is surprisingly smooth and nice writing... for its low price of $1.59. Even comes with one ink cartridge.
https://i.imgur.com/SjtUeS6.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/xzEg9WR.jpeg
The bottom one may look like a black Lamy Safari, but it's a Chinese clone... with a bent "fude-type" nib. It's marketed as a 0.7mm "Art Pen", and comes with a slider-type converter AND 10 ink cartridges... for $1.59
https://i.imgur.com/7UHnbTO.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/GoQ1xVH.jpeg
There was actually another pen, a Jinhao "ceramic", but the ink flow is horrible, and I'm going to let it rest a bit pointed downwards and see if the feed situation improves before uploading some pictures.
EDIT: I had to rinse out the first ink, the Banmi Dolphin, from Jinhao 950 "Porcelain". It just doesn't want to flow. I replaced the ink with Diamine Oxford Blue and it's flowing much better. At $7.29, it's a bit more expensive than your typical mass produced Chinese pen, and the barrel and cap reflects that with weight... and little else. The main pen body has no roll stop at all. You have to post the cap to stop it from rolling, but the cap weighs quite a bit and you should not have to. Make sure you have a "pen holder" on your desk to prevent it from rolling around. And it still doesn't flow smoothly. I don't like it. I agree, this is kinda... junk.
https://i.imgur.com/M1mk6iC.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/7ukFdVl.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/Nopowr7.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/gnQuA5M.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/ZQKUVO6.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/idd7Rvk.jpeg
So far, the surprise is the sorta-vanishing tip 0.38mm pen, as it actually writes quite smoothly for the price. The bent nib is just okay, but I guess I need more practice with it.
https://i.imgur.com/P8QRrEc.jpeg
Okay, here are the fountain pen ink test results:
grid paper: https://i.imgur.com/AZSXnnG.jpeg https://i.imgur.com/0yFfBoW.jpeg
Rating: A Only where the ink's the heaviest, was there any hint of bleed through, and almost no see through.
lined paper: https://i.imgur.com/qkxpVAk.jpeg https://i.imgur.com/AEJ8ZfA.jpeg
Rating: A- Only when the ink's heaviest that it threatens, but did NOT bleed through. It did become see through with the boldest stroke, and absorbency for different ink is a bit uneven, which is weird.
dot grid paper: https://i.imgur.com/mVw4HgC.jpeg https://i.imgur.com/I1ve5gm.jpeg
Rating: B Bleedthrough at heaviest ink concentrations, see through at slightly lighter, yet no see through with other ink. A bit inconsistent, compared to grid paper or lined paper.
kraft paper: https://i.imgur.com/jqV3ptU.jpeg https://i.imgur.com/56QdmUV.jpeg
Rating: A no bleedthrough, no see through, but it's NOT white.

A flicker of light started to drain away the darkness I was so used to. The darkness where I felt most comfortable and at peace. The flicker slowly enveloped the entire pitch black room within minutes. I could do nothing but sigh in disappointment and open my eyes.
My adjusting eyes were being harassed by the tiny beam of light that made it through my curtain. Where it's at the precise angle that you swear some higher power is just messing with you.
My groggy eyes focused on the clock, it was 7:00 a. M.
Time for work.
The day was April 14th, 2014. A Monday. I knew I only had about an hour to get up, get ready for work, shower, make breakfast and make sure I get to work a few minutes early so I didn't clock in late.
I was only 28 years old and I hated my sales job. I had gone to college and got my marketing degree but I never thought I'd end up here.. selling bullshit products at incredibly hiked prices to unsuspecting or oblivious customers.
I had been doing this job for 3 years and it felt like everyday was just going to be worse. Just a buildup of hatred for your job overtime is natural I guess. Typically people find ways to cope with the constant 9-5 grind. Like going out with friends or clubbing or whatever...but I had none of those.
When my days ended I would go home and watch Netflix and drink then do it all again. I wish it was different, I wish I had the motivation to change myself. But it's difficult when you have no one to support you in your efforts. My mom died from breast cancer when I was 12. Seeing her on hospice for several months suffering from stage 4 cancer was...something you shouldn't see as a 12 year old. To see your once lovely, athletic, hilarious, loving and caring mother degrade into an 85 pound, drug-induced, horrifyingly thin creature that in no way resembled her from my memories of when she was cancer free.
I remember one morning my dad woke me up and said "come to the living room...your mother is taking her last breathes". As soon as he finished that sentence, my memories flooded back...memories of her taking care of me when I was sick, being at my soccer games cheering me on, asking how my day was when I got back from school, leaning on her shoulder as we sat in church. The memories came and went in an instant and the reality set in. My heart at first skipped a few beats but then accelerated to an unhealthy pace. My head started to spin, tears slowly started swelling up on my eyes.
I had jumped off the bed and sprinted to the living room. She was facing away from me and the first thing I noticed are how purple/ blue her feet are. I walk around the hospice nurse and look at my mother's face. She was place, her breathing was almost non-existent for almost 2 minutes but still there...until it wasn't...she was gone.
I was lost, my dad was bawling. I was crying too but at 12 years old I didn't know how hard the reality would hit as time goes on.
In my lost state, I turned on the TV show "MONK" on the laptop. It was a show my mom and I used to watch, and I figured watching it would make me feel like I'm with her again.
Time went on and I realized how losing a mother truly impacts your younger years. But time still, moved on yet.
I got in my car and left for work. The drive to the office was only about half an hour. I put my sunglasses on as I'm travelling east for almost the entire drive, something I was used to by this point. The drive to work was uneventful other than the usual jackass that cuts you off or is speeding down the road.
I made it to work and stepped out of my car. For some reason, grabbed my backpack and shut the door. For some reason the thought of my mother came across my mind. The sighed, looked down at the ground and stared at the concrete for the few seconds while only thinking of how I missed her. Then the thought vanished and I got on with my life.
The day was incredibly boring, only sold a couple of products, I dealt with people in the east coast of the U.S. and customers there are always so nasty and rude with their comments. It's impossible to build rapport with them. I'm jealous of the employees that have West coast as their territory.
The day ended with my last call but no sales for the day. Hopped in my car and drove back home.
Now I've already told you what I do when I get home. Just drink and watch Netflix. And that's exactly what I did. I can't remember the name of the show( probably because I was already tipsy) but it had to do with strange phenomenons.
I don't even remember passing out but I do remember being there in that dark room again; it was so comfortable and cozy. I sat in the corner of the room with eyes wide closed ...no people, nothing to disturb me, just... nothingness of warmth.
For hours this went on until I heard a woman's voice saying "I'm glad you're here". suddenly realizing that I had overslept my body jolted awake, completely forgetting about that eerie voice. Drinking on a Monday night is not a good idea. Blurry and in a haze trying to concentrate my focus I made out the clock saying 7:00 a.m. April 15th, 2014.
I thought how odd that was. I've been doing the same job with the same schedule for 3 years now and I know when I oversleep. Yet knowing this brought a mental smile to my mind, as my supervisor won't get on my ass for showing up late, again.
I got up lazily and stretched and got on with my morning routine. Finally got dressed and hopped in my car to leave for work. I was only about 5 minutes in when I realized something was off...why was I wearing sunglasses? The sun was behind me, not in front. I took my glasses off and read my car dashboard compass; "EAST".
I have taken this drive for 3 years now every Monday through Friday and I had always worn sunglasses for the drive to the office. I looked behind me and saw the sun rising from the west.
I was still calm, but subconsciously I could tell my panic and anxiety were building with what I was experiencing. I decided to pull over at a gas station, took my phone out and opened my GPS. 'I was still facing east.
I quietly stated "what the fuck". I looked up and asked the person next to me pumping gas " look! The sun! It's rising from the west" with an ecstatic and speedy tone. He looked at me with a smile on his face and said "yeah? Don't ya know it's always rose from the west".
The reality of this was starting to set on, anxiety building, I got back in my car and just sat there... Running my hands through my hair, pulling and stretching my face wondering what the hell was happening? My eyes were staring wide at the brake and gas pedal...trying to find some kind of logical explanation for this while still running my hands over my face and hair.
I decided to take my phone out again and click on trending news hoping to see something explaining or even acknowledging this phenomenon. Nothing. I opened Google search and looked up "sun rising in west" the first thing that popped up said Earth is rotating about its own axis from East to West".
This wasn't right.
I figured I would try to get to work and maybe one of my coworkers would have some answer. My entire body was shaking for the entire drive but I made it".
I got out of the car and the strangest thing came across my mind. A memory. A very unique memory of back when I was 12, in the back yard playing capture the flag with my neighbor that lived behind me. A time which I could go back when.
The memory came and vanished in an instant, but left the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia and sadness.
I walked into the office and started asking around about the sun. Again, none of them knew what I was talking about, but before they answered my question, they would say "oh hey, it's nice to have you here" or "we're glad to have you here" all with a smile on their faces.
Not super weird as my coworkers are typically super energetic happy people. But it did become weird when my east coast clients started answering their phones saying "hey, you're always welcome here"
I couldn't see their faces but I could tell by their tone and attitude that they were smiling. This was not normal. I rushed to the bathroom, opened a stall and sat on the toilet. I started having a panic attack. Nothing was right, the people, the sun, the specific memories... I started to run my hands over my face, stretching and contorting it, trying to calm myself down with feeling my heart bursting out of my chest. I started to whimper, I didn't want anyone outside of the stalls to hear me. None of my coworkers were right, the guy at the gas station wasn't right...nothing. years swelled up in my eyes and a brief memory of my mom came back.
It was me, coming home from school, I walked inside and could smell the pizza she was making. I see and her and asks me hey, how was your day?".
This memory helped calm me down from the wreck I was turning into. I took several deep breaths, tried my very best to compose myself, and stepped out of the stall. I ended up taking some paper towels and wiped away the tears that were caught in my eyes.
I decided that I will just try to finish this day because tomorrow everything would be back to normal...I have to reassure myself that I would be, I just knew it would be....it had to be.
I sat down back at my desk and my phone rang, picked it up and a voice came through. The voice of my mother asking " I am so glad you are here, Luke".
I was frozen, shocking, tingly sensations ran through my entire body. My demeaner instantly changed into fight or flight mode...but I chose the 3rd... freeze.
Phone still up to my ear, I heard her speak again. "Oh honey, Luke my sweet boy, don't you remember?".
I didn't reply verbally, but mentally I was thinking "remember...what the hell is...remember what?"
Then she spoke one last time, "last night, you saw the sun".
Then the memory of the night before races back into my mind. I was on my drive home from work, watching the beautiful sunset over the horizon. With all it's beautiful mixtures of orange, red, purple. I was so just staring at it...in a trance, thinking of how I wanted to go back and just be a kid again, play with my back door neighbor, come home to my mom. Why couldn't I just go back?
I suddenly hear a blaring car horn and then blackness.
I believe I died on April 15th, 2014. And I don't mind it. I like being in this black empty room just sitting in the corner..with nothing but warm emptiness to fill my cold shell. I like feeling the embraces of it's comfort over the tiring lifestyle I was living. My only dream was that I could dream forever...and now it's finally been achieved.
I miss my mother, and I know she misses me, the memories I have of her will keep me warm in this blackened wasteland forever.