PRESALE IS LIVE! TESTING OF AI BOT HAS STARTED!
Where to buy: ⁃ lucidai.art/token
What to have: ⁃ A desktop computer ⁃ Metamask ⁃ Native Ethereum
Steps: 1. Make sure the wallet/account you want is chosen in your extension 2. Make sure you are on Ethereum mainnet 3. Click the [ sign in ] button on the top right off the site 4. Sign the login message 5. Click anywhere for the metamask modal to disappear 6. Make sure you have enough (ETH + gas) in your wallet 7. Choose your slot 8. Follow your extension’s steps 9. WAIT - DO NOT REFRESH
WHEN WILL I RECEIVE MY TOKENS?
After the remaining presale amount is 0, 24-48 hours later participant will receive tokens. Trading will go live after everything is confirmed in order on Uniswap.
Purchase a slot today!: lucidai.art/token
Website: lucidai.art/
Telegram: lucidAIOfficial / lucidAIOfficialNSFW
Discord: pkGY3unbWA
Background LUCID AI is an innovative AI-generated art platform that has emerged from the collective expertise of three highly skilled developers with several years of experience in the field of artificial intelligence and software development. The securing long term investors and exploring new horizons in the realm of AI.
Mission Statement Our mission is to foster a scalable marketing service for crypto communities. Members of telegram groups can use cryptocurrency to group fund AI-generated art, creating a dynamic space for collaboration at the intersection of innovative technology and artistic expression.
How it Works youtube: EYYJKJOXjVg

so i have a long story and i dont have perfect english so im sorry. at may 24 22o clock (i think) i downloaded a suspicous exe from a fake download button(yes i didnt noticed until AV flagged)and i tried to open it and when i said ok at setup wizard the AV got crayz. i panicked and deleted the files and started a disk scan with kaspersky. it showed nothing on c: and i closed my pc. at may25 morning i found that someone logged into my instagram and made activities like following random accs and likes. i changed my insta password. then i tried to login reddit on my phone it said acc needed management or smth and i changed my reddit password too at 26 may i find that my linkedin mail changed with using pin code in my email box so at 27 may i gor back my linkedin and deleted the whole account. same day i noticed a common spam/phising mail sent at (21may or smth) about my porn activities etc. i got scared and dismanteled my pc and removed every component of my laptop. that night i changed the password of that mail which i recived the scam mail. at 28may my google acc sent me a mail informing me that they found suspicious activities in my mail acc and changed the password of that mail too. and same days night, one of the not used instagram accs of mine got logged from us with google chrome. same day i changed its password of it. i think its over but its not. some days later 1 june 20:00 i got mail from microsoft account group and sent to the recovery mail which said “”Essential” is connected to the Microsoft account mi**y@hotmail.com.” 4-5 hrs later i noticed the mail and changed my acc primary mail and removed old mails login privilages and i deleted the recovery mail acc. after i changed almost everything at hotmail acc i go to bed and tried to sleep but i got scared and cant sleep. i checked my mails and i fall asleep but got waken up buy instagram notification(its a live stream notification from friends) i checked my mail again and i saw a mail from microsoft. it says another gmail of mine (which haves microsoft acc ) they logged in to it from mexico. i quickly vhanged password and deleted it too. at same day 2 june night i got mail from x and it says suspicious login attempt from us. i logged into x and changed password and deleted the acc. at the same time my spotify got logged in and changed the mail and pass. but the weird think is changed mail is (same adress)wC@pikanhanapanela.xyz . i contacted the spotify support and 1 day later i got my acc back and changed the mail and everything.at 3 june morning my brother said they logged into himself mail acc. i made same steps with my other microsoft mail acc. when i was doing it i got apple notification on my phıne screen ehich said they tried to log into my icloud from peru i think. i quickly changed my icloud password and logged out from other devices. and lastly my second spotify acc for my school pc got changed its mail and same pattern here too (acc mail name)Kw@almostyours.xyz . i formatted my pc 2 days ago for fresh start i created a new gmail acc and transfered all my important accs to it. why can this happening and what can they acces from my old pc and is there anything they can do. thx for readinf this long story. bye

Sure, it makes no sense for TKO to buy another promotion only a year after merging and with no media deals on the horizon, Anthem already rejected a sale offer a few months ago, nobody in or out of the company is reporting a potential sale, Slammiversary tickets are selling like hot cakes, Anthem just spent a bunch of money re-launching the brand and the streaming service, Anthem re-emphasized that they want to integrate TNA further into their brand, and they didn't sell after losing half the roster to AEW and WWE or when they had to cancel two PPVs and run empty shows for a year while their World Champ held the title hostage in Mexico...
But it just really feels like they're about to sell. I mean, why else would the evil fed work with another promotion and actually put over their champion?

I can't do this anymore, and I need to get this out before I explode into bloody confetti. I don't know if my Mom's a narc but I don't think a diagnosis would help aside telling me I'm not crazy. And who knows, maybe I am. Maybe it is all me despite my constant fear of being the same.
I am an adult woman. I won't get into the finer details of why I'm back "home," but it was to support her during an illness. It's all about how to please her, it always has been, even my nephews are stuck in thst cycle of pleasing her because of "how hard done by" she is. And i definitely am not taking away from her struggles or strength. She also had a narc mom and married my overt alcoholic abusive father. Her strength of will to leave & I worshipped her for "rescuing" us afterwards, but this made me control every reaction and work around her. Even as a child.
Maybe I'm the shit one, and she's just damaged, but it's been 30 years of this, same repeat, negative posturing. Complaints . There is nothing good enough. Guilt trips. Emotional manipulation.
I'm now not sure if I'm just seeing all her actions and behaviours all as negative myself now, and it's GRATING me.
Every aspect of my life feels stymied. I don't have children I've never had the chance with her judgement (I was too terrified to tell her I was pregnant after major surgery and I was forced to terminate because of the surgery, she obviously needed to know - she is against it generally.. just mentions now "imagine if you'd been stuck with him") and having to look after my brothers kids because he's another dysfunctional selfish fuck. I had to quit my job last year because of how emotionally demanding she became because of issues with the street and because she kept being negative about my long hours. Or driving g after a 12-hour shift or how i wasn't home to see all the stuff happening so I wasn't as angry. I even bought her security cameras.
I can't date and find myself lying about social events, so I'm not questioned infinitely. Or a guilt trip on my WaY out because I haven't earned my way out. This is a reminder of what I hadn't done.
It's become confusing because there are moments when she shows she's not all these things, but I don't know if it's a game now. I have to note - I pay half the rent. I contribute to all the bills, and I drive her everywhere. Doctors appointments and every day a god damn grocery store trip. Dinner and sit down show time is even routine with her (and granted I did some of that too myself during a depression episode - giving her the idea that I'd be there in the evenings) I cooked dinner every night for her snd my nephews until I produced an eating disorder and I get passive aggressive comments about that again - "I've had to think of meals the last 40YEARS FOR YOU ALL!" Erhhh.. not so. She also OBSERVES me & "guides" (you know those "helpful suggestions" like you're a mildly retarded 12yr old still).
The other day she wouldn't stop at me about something I didn't do and even after an apology and an explanation she still went on about it. It's the first time I've gotten so fundamentally frustrated that I got angry with her telling her I wasn't 15 anymore.. She proceeded to demand I clean my room.
I'm 35.
Now, in the last week or so since- she hasn't been bothersome about me going put, and I've been pushing it and going put every second night.. maybe as some form of unearned teenage rebellion I didn't get & she's been fine. No over calling. No moody judgement when I get back. (Literslly last week I had an appointment at 3pm and went to visit my nephews after eithout telling her, it was 6.34pm and she called me wondering where I was but "not because I need to know where you are just that you're ok" it was 3 and half hours.. some.of that was appointment time.) However, I now know that she remembers and wrote.. the passive aggression or commentary afterwards.
She undermined my ed clinic, saying, "I dont know what recovery you're going n to get from a woman who looks like she has an eating disorder herself,f" and ever since. The negative comments about the time and the distance and whether they're helping came in thick and fast.
We have this trip I'm meant to take her on, and she keeps delaying the dates. First may, so I can't plan anything, then June, then start of July now end of July and again I chose to assert myself and told her that we needed to lock in this trip because I'dike to plan my life too. And she went, "What exactly do YOU want to plan with YOUR life?" (she is bitter because she thinks she hasn't had a life).
I said I didn't want to be here anymore - I don't want to live in this city anymore. She got dark. The discussion ended and flights were looked at but one way (she keep saying "oh you might want to get a little job and just work there in a cafe" and I might of before but now.. fuck no.)
Then she added that we should see my sister beforehand. And oh, if we still past august & past my birthday blah blah blah..
Now I've taken my mother on multiple trips, all of which had a negative complaint or how she didn't get the best out of it. EVERY.GOD.DAMN.TRIP. UK, indo, Australia. Last trip she complained about my sisters hygiene and how she hated how people kept pestering her (Granted she did that to herself offering money to go away - but thats like their culture and how they make money.So she further demeaned Bali to me.)
Now to the thing that's making me think this is all bs - we were shopping, and I was buying groceries separately. I had a packet of lollies, I bought her coffee - however when we were at the checkout she paid for my lollies on her bill and I was like hey they're mine you don't have to pay for those! And she scanned them, and I said thank you for buying my lollies, and I'm paraphrasing slightly because my little brain beacon was like.. huh?! But basically she said "I'm buying them for you cause you're my little girl" in public.
Maybe I'm just reading too much into this now because I'm angry and resentful, and I'm seeing all the things she's done throughout my life & seeing all these as negatives. Things that we're brushed aside for being told to be grateful for the rescue. Being clothed and schooled.
Am I just losing it? Because I'm so close to it.
I have my own money too, the only reason I'm here is obligation responsibility and dedicated conditoning that you're meant to honour your mother and look after your fsmily.. I don't want to look like The ass for abandoning an aging woman in "need" But she was saying how I don't have a choice really - where would I go.. etc & That she's helping me by giving me accommodation etc. I don't see it like that at all.
She also constantly tells me that I don't have others to support me that no one of my friends has shown their worth, and she's the only one who truly ever makes sure I'm OK.
Another aspect is dating, and my choices of men have always been mocked or mentioned. Recently I met a guy, who has taken an interest but the connection as to how we know each other causes an issue with my mother - she has blatantly berated him, negatived every aspect -my and his age, his family, the mental issues he may have because of the family even though he's long been estranged. She also blatantly told me I don't want kids "they're parasites." they suck the life out of you.. all of that.
I don't know if I'm just crazy now. Am I just being a ridiculous daughter?

I recently came across an intriguing investment opportunity and thought this community might find it interesting: Diamond Reserve. This project is merging traditional asset investment with cutting-edge blockchain technology through their DMDR tokens.
Here’s what makes Diamond Reserve stand out:

• Security and Immutability: By leveraging blockchain, Diamond Reserve ensures that all ownership records of the diamonds are immutable and secure.
• Transparency: Blockchain’s inherent transparency means every transaction is publicly recorded, ensuring you can trace and verify the origins and ownership of your diamond investments.
• Fractional Ownership: DMDR tokens allow investors to buy fractions of real diamonds, making it easier to diversify without needing significant capital.

This approach not only makes diamond investing more accessible but also brings a new level of security and transparency to the process. It’s a fascinating blend of physical assets with digital technology that could potentially change the way we think about investing in tangible assets.
Has anyone else here explored investments like this? What are your thoughts on integrating blockchain with traditional assets? Looking forward to hearing your insights!

Traditionally there are two main paths taken to generate income from a given fixed amount of liquid wealth (cash and equities.)
The low-risk method used by retirement financial advisors is to buy-and-hold some diverse mixture of assets for the client (for example, 40% bonds, 30% stocks, 10% utilities, 10% real estate, and 10% commodities). Income is generated by dividends, and sometimes (when the portfolio is periodically "re-balanced" to maintain the given percentages of assets) capital gains from a sale are generated. When the client needs cash to live on, some of the assets are sold to generate cash.
The high-risk method used by day-traders is to buy low and sell high. They study individual equities to trade (instead of mutual funds or indexed funds); and each day decide which ones and how much to buy in. At the end of the day all positions left (that weren't sold at a higher price than bought) are sold for a loss, and if the educated guesses paid off there are short-term capital gains as income. In this way profit is generated each day the trades are successful, and after the market closes all assets are held in cash.
The FryCurve method is perhaps a hybrid of the two: when the market is closed assets held are not all cash or all equities but a blend of the two depending on the price. For each equity a FryCurve is created by the investor (the educated guesser) by providing five critical values called parameters of the curve. The two most important parameters are the low- and high-price of the equity you want to buy and sell shares of: the investor must choose the lowest price he thinks it will ever go, and likewise the highest price it will go (before adjusting the entire curve due to inflation.)
The FryCurve is a mathematical function that operates between these two low- and high-prices. For a given price the FryCurve function will return the number of shares that should be owned. In this way, when the price is at the maximum the FryCurve will return zero shares, and the position of assets held will be all cash (like the buy-and-sell day trader); and when the price is at the minimum the FryCurve will return the maximum shares, and the position will be all equities and no cash (like the buy-and-hold investor.)
The method evolved from when I used to contribute to the 401k a fixed amount each week, and that was considered financially wise because I was "dollar-cost averaging." That meant that when the price was low I was buying more shares with the fixed dollars, and when the price was high I was buying fewer shares -- the logic being more when the price is low and less when prices are high, like chasing the elusive "buy-low and sell-high" holy grail. But I started to think of the future when I had no income, no fixed-amount each week. That's how it changed from buying more or less shares as the price changed from buying when low and selling when high. For some reason people like always buying and holding; but when it comes to buying and selling they become uneasy. Perhaps it is because they can't tell when to buy or sell, or at which price to do either. The solution is to construct a FryCurve -- a graph that will show for any price how many shares you should own; then if the price should go down it will tell you at what price and how many shares to buy, and if the price goes up it will indicate the price and shares to sell.
The FryCurve is graphed such that at the far left (miNimum Price) it shows the maximum shares, and at the far right (maXimum Price) it shows zero shares. As long as your position matches the location on the FryCurve as prices fluctuate, you will be guaranteed to always buy low and sell high like a day trader. If prices do not fluctuate then you are guaranteed to earn dividends on the equities and interest on the cash like the long-term investor. The secret to the power and flexibility of the FryCurve lies in two other parameters -- the midpoint-price (a price presumed to be in the middle of where prices fluctuate about) -- and a special Risk Factor. This Risk Factor (labeled "RFC") is just a number that can have an extremely wide range of values -- when RFC is negative there is less risk (almost zero risk if RFC is below -8); when RFC is zero there is some risk; and when RFC is positive there is more and more risk (maximum risk above +8).
The shape of the FryCurve for a given security is entirely determined by the four parameters mentioned above. The number of shares represented by the curve is determined by the maximum number of dollars the investor has allocated for that security. This fifth and last parameter of the FryCurve, labeled "DMX", is the dollar value of both the shares and the cash; it needs no guesswork from the investor -- just funds.

Parameter Meaning --------- ----------------------------------------------------- DMX MaXimum Dollars to ever be invested in the security PRN miNinum PRice that the security will ever drop down to. PRX maXimum PRice that the security will rise to. PM Midpoint Price is the price around which it is anticipated the price fluctuates. RFC Risk FaCtor -- unitless representation of the user's risk: zero is low risk, positive is higher risk and negative is lower risk. 

Let me start off by saying I personally am as far from a neoliberal as you can get, but I’m looking for neoliberal perspectives on the cartel war in Mexico. I operate under a few assumptions:
1) My understanding of the major Mexican cartels is that they are black market business primarily concerned with selling and profiting drugs, (though they have diversified recently) 2) The cartels have significant pull already within the Mexican economy and government 3) Modern neoliberal economists seem to agree that military action cannot really kill a market or demand of a product. For every distributor you kill, the invisible hand will attempt to raise up another.
The violent actions of the cartels seem to resemble primitive forms of modern police forces existing to serve the most profitable companies. The violence in the illegal drug cartels aren’t linked to the drugs, but rather the fact that in order to operate within a neoliberal market, you require a militant police force.
So what exactly is stopping Mexico from embracing it’s cartels, becoming a primary exporter of drugs, and legitimizing itself as a nation?
My theory is that American and European pharmaceutical companies wouldn’t appreciate the competition, as Mexico’s buy in price would be relatively low with many supply chains already built. Not to mention America’s war on drugs has allowed Pharmaceutical companies to force the creation of these black market’s in an attempt to put an artificial market cap on recreational drugs. New Mexican leadership has hinted at decriminalization and legalization, but also threatened expansion of the national guard to fight these cartels. What do you think is going on?

My ex has a child with me and she blames me for so much. this isnt to hurt my ex. i do believe she is a good person but with me she doesnt want to be

Discussion
SO, my ex DA was/is very abusive. I guess I fall into anxious attachment, but not at first with her. I told her my whole story and years later she kept comparing my trauma through my sexual abuse when I was a child-teens, domestic abuse, bullying, etc.. I wasn't fond of it, but I kept telling myself hear her out she is hurting. It was like no matter how hard I tried to listen she would just shut down. I recall a moment when in the beginning of her and i's friendship I asked her to leave my apartment for the first time because I really didn't want her to deal with my outburst, which I had no idea how to handle at all, I begged her please drop this conversation, but she simply manipulated me into telling her everything. All of this is hurting me, because now its weaponized against me. I would scream so much after that because I kept asking her to leave me alone with my problems because I honestly didn't feel she would ever understand me. I kept enabling her addiction to weed, kept buying it for her for years. I honestly don't enjoy weed anymore after all this, but I foolishly kept trying to relate with her for what she "enjoys". One time my hours got cut and I told her I wouldn't be able to afford any weed, she had a outburst and got so angry because she was really depending on the stuff. I told her and explained I have to get food and pay my bills. She would try to still convince me that I promised her the stuff. that day we ended up fighting for nothing, because I should my best MTG cards, which was enemy fetch lands and allied fetch lands, if anyone knows what I'm talking about, they were expensive cards. she didn't even thank me, just said she was sorry and I didn't have to do that. Eventually it hurt a lot because why would she try to make me feel I made a bad choice, after we got her weed, we later broke up. Then she pops back into my life again saying she missed me, I gave her space because I truly did care for her, even though at this time my anxiety was a full time high, working my ass off for a job that was far to difficult for me to do, but I kept pushing myself. I had a break down and started screaming in the car asking please help I'm hurting... that was the first time she hit me. she said I didn't know what to do so I hit you. that torn me apart inside because I told her my mother would hit me whenever I cried and she did that to me. when I had the courage to confront her about it she gaslighted me saying it didn't hurt me she didn't hit me hard. So, even though I'm a yeller which is very childish, I'm working on it, eventually she started throwing things at me because she was just mad at me. I would be playing games out of nowhere she would be throwing shoes at me, then controllers from my ps4... I was so angry and told her to go home. she would cry saying how dare you tell me go back to my parents who neglect me! I told her that's no excuse, it just became the norm for me to allow her to gaslight me like this. one day she got me a cool set of holographic lord of Atlantis, which admittedly made me jump for joy because it made me feel loved by her, some how we got into a huge argument because she was complaining because of me she wasn't able to get her mom anything for mothers day, I told her that's not fair for you to say that and I think she should go home if we are going to argue again. I always looked for peace when I saw her everyday. but everyday was just a smoke out session or watching movies she wanted to watch. but because I didn't want to do that at all and just wanted to sleep she was furious. so after she agreed to leave, she quickly started slamming my apartment door saying let me in I want the cards back, I was in tears before she came back and bam! she for the first time threaten to call the cops saying I was abusive towards her, eventually I opened the door and told her to calm down she rushed her self in and was trying to not let her in and I was going to give her the cards, but seeing her crying so hard made me feel so horrible so I let her in. she punched me on my private parts, kicked, slapped me, eventually I got her to lay on my bed but I had to hold her down for the first time, and it hurt me so much doing that, but I didn't want to keep getting hit, I'd told her no more hitting me this needs to stop, she denied it all right in front of my face, I told her to leave. I didn't talk to her for 3 months. one day she saw my Instagram and called me saying how disgusting I was for liking a certain type of women saying I never found her attractive, which was just projection, it was very late at night and was very irritated because I was lacking sleep after so much fights and break ups and blaming everything on myself. some how she got pregnant after this, we made up had a good perfect two weeks, then I had enough, we had very intimate sex, which was always needle in the hay sack with her. I didn't mind because I understand not everyone has a high sex drive, I tried to be understanding, bam we break up again, several months later she realized she missed her period then another month went by and she told me she was pregnant, I was surprised because she was on birth control for years, which I did pay for. this was during covid days, I was exited and very nervous so I started smoking a lot of ciggs, gained so much weight, constantly drinking worried my worst fears will come true. When I moved in with her so was a total different person and I was still dealing with all that trauma she caused, I felt so very uncomfortable for a lot of the time and I was bitter and resentful, but I tried to forgive her. Then our beautiful daughter was born, oh boy I was so tired but I couldn't even imagine my ex was feeling so I supported her and kept calm all the way through, we had a our baby and I felt it was going to give her so much joy, it didn't, not even a full month has passed.. she told me it didn't matter if I was the father because I was useless, she did everything, all I did was make myself a cup of coffee because we both didn't sleep well that night, I even offered her some coffee to help her feel more awake she got mad and ignored me. later that same year I went to my first ever vacation, she ignored me the whole vacation, when I asked her why didn't you talk to me this one time about how you wanted to help your cousin when I made plans to propose on the beach in Cancun, she shut down and started crying over and over and I was there to help her with her panic attack, I told her after she calmed down which took a couple hours why did you break down? she couldn't answer, the next night I was very anxious and I stupidly started drinking a lot , all I did was ask her to leave me alone. she intentionally tried to hurt me and tripped me and I almost feel of the balcony, she quickly said I was being dramatic, and all I could do was say leave me alone and sobbing being reminded of why do I keep putting up with this and blaming myself. The next morning she woke up crying telling me she will understand if I left her, I made up my mind and told myself I had to stay because we have a baby together and she isn't even one at this moment. a lot of fighting continued to happen and her hitting never stopped. She was never aware what da was until she got a test and they told her she was dismissive avoidant and she was very upset with this because she wanted to be adhd. I was taken back why would you want that. so far I kept my mouth shut about my problems until 2023 and eventually she told me she didn't love me and she felt I was no good anymore, I was getting high and drinking fire balls, I woke up so angry and frustrated and just told her why do you have such a problem with me, she said I was delusional, I was mad because I gotten so tired of her dodging my questions, I was in the room with her and our daughter was in the room. Till this day my ex will never be honest what happened that day, she hit me so much I got pulled down on the floor all because of my eyes, she said I looked dangerous, which I'm very confused with this because I never ever hit her even once, she said I put myself on the floor and i was furious and screamed at anger which was so stupid of me, my mind was telling me go to the other room, but all i can think about is if she is able to hit me she might be able to hurt my daughter, so i grabbed my daughter away from her and my worst decision ever because i never wanted my daughter to go what i went through as a child. till this day its being used against me. because my ex's family thinks i was the one who caused all that, now im here reflecting all this, there so much more that has happened and I'm not saying at all that i was the saint. I have been diagnosed with bipolar type 1, then later find out i was misdiagnosed, and it turns out i have adhd, which is funny to me because when i told my ex this she laughed at me, i only wanted to let her know because we have a daughter together. she said i told you youre not even bipolar and your adhd, but for years she would tell me i need to apply for disability for bi polar to get her a house and i kept telling her no. i need to work it helps me. she laughed at me. she wasnt always like this all the time but yeah. i still feel its all my fault even though, im seeking medical help, a doctor, calling suicide hot line just in case i have a break down and i have been doing this since 2023 and now, i found Jesus Christ, a church, still have a full time job, currently looking for another so i can support myself and my daughter, my ex refuses to get a job and all she wants to do still is smoke weed and sell drugs. but im the asshole.
after saying all this, i hope she gets help and finds a man who will give her all the security she needed, i was never able to make her feel that ever, even though i tried to the best way i could. i dont think she is an evil person, she is just in so much pain and hurting

My ex has a child with me and she blames me for so much. this isnt to hurt my ex. i do believe she is a good person but with me she doesnt want to be

Discussion
SO, my ex DA was/is very abusive. I guess I fall into anxious attachment, but not at first with her. I told her my whole story and years later she kept comparing my trauma through my sexual abuse when I was a child-teens, domestic abuse, bullying, etc.. I wasn't fond of it, but I kept telling myself hear her out she is hurting. It was like no matter how hard I tried to listen she would just shut down. I recall a moment when in the beginning of her and i's friendship I asked her to leave my apartment for the first time because I really didn't want her to deal with my outburst, which I had no idea how to handle at all, I begged her please drop this conversation, but she simply manipulated me into telling her everything. All of this is hurting me, because now its weaponized against me. I would scream so much after that because I kept asking her to leave me alone with my problems because I honestly didn't feel she would ever understand me. I kept enabling her addiction to weed, kept buying it for her for years. I honestly don't enjoy weed anymore after all this, but I foolishly kept trying to relate with her for what she "enjoys". One time my hours got cut and I told her I wouldn't be able to afford any weed, she had a outburst and got so angry because she was really depending on the stuff. I told her and explained I have to get food and pay my bills. She would try to still convince me that I promised her the stuff. that day we ended up fighting for nothing, because I should my best MTG cards, which was enemy fetch lands and allied fetch lands, if anyone knows what I'm talking about, they were expensive cards. she didn't even thank me, just said she was sorry and I didn't have to do that. Eventually it hurt a lot because why would she try to make me feel I made a bad choice, after we got her weed, we later broke up. Then she pops back into my life again saying she missed me, I gave her space because I truly did care for her, even though at this time my anxiety was a full time high, working my ass off for a job that was far to difficult for me to do, but I kept pushing myself. I had a break down and started screaming in the car asking please help I'm hurting... that was the first time she hit me. she said I didn't know what to do so I hit you. that torn me apart inside because I told her my mother would hit me whenever I cried and she did that to me. when I had the courage to confront her about it she gaslighted me saying it didn't hurt me she didn't hit me hard. So, even though I'm a yeller which is very childish, I'm working on it, eventually she started throwing things at me because she was just mad at me. I would be playing games out of nowhere she would be throwing shoes at me, then controllers from my ps4... I was so angry and told her to go home. she would cry saying how dare you tell me go back to my parents who neglect me! I told her that's no excuse, it just became the norm for me to allow her to gaslight me like this. one day she got me a cool set of holographic lord of Atlantis, which admittedly made me jump for joy because it made me feel loved by her, some how we got into a huge argument because she was complaining because of me she wasn't able to get her mom anything for mothers day, I told her that's not fair for you to say that and I think she should go home if we are going to argue again. I always looked for peace when I saw her everyday. but everyday was just a smoke out session or watching movies she wanted to watch. but because I didn't want to do that at all and just wanted to sleep she was furious. so after she agreed to leave, she quickly started slamming my apartment door saying let me in I want the cards back, I was in tears before she came back and bam! she for the first time threaten to call the cops saying I was abusive towards her, eventually I opened the door and told her to calm down she rushed her self in and was trying to not let her in and I was going to give her the cards, but seeing her crying so hard made me feel so horrible so I let her in. she punched me on my private parts, kicked, slapped me, eventually I got her to lay on my bed but I had to hold her down for the first time, and it hurt me so much doing that, but I didn't want to keep getting hit, I'd told her no more hitting me this needs to stop, she denied it all right in front of my face, I told her to leave. I didn't talk to her for 3 months. one day she saw my Instagram and called me saying how disgusting I was for liking a certain type of women saying I never found her attractive, which was just projection, it was very late at night and was very irritated because I was lacking sleep after so much fights and break ups and blaming everything on myself. some how she got pregnant after this, we made up had a good perfect two weeks, then I had enough, we had very intimate sex, which was always needle in the hay sack with her. I didn't mind because I understand not everyone has a high sex drive, I tried to be understanding, bam we break up again, several months later she realized she missed her period then another month went by and she told me she was pregnant, I was surprised because she was on birth control for years, which I did pay for. this was during covid days, I was exited and very nervous so I started smoking a lot of ciggs, gained so much weight, constantly drinking worried my worst fears will come true. When I moved in with her so was a total different person and I was still dealing with all that trauma she caused, I felt so very uncomfortable for a lot of the time and I was bitter and resentful, but I tried to forgive her. Then our beautiful daughter was born, oh boy I was so tired but I couldn't even imagine my ex was feeling so I supported her and kept calm all the way through, we had a our baby and I felt it was going to give her so much joy, it didn't, not even a full month has passed.. she told me it didn't matter if I was the father because I was useless, she did everything, all I did was make myself a cup of coffee because we both didn't sleep well that night, I even offered her some coffee to help her feel more awake she got mad and ignored me. later that same year I went to my first ever vacation, she ignored me the whole vacation, when I asked her why didn't you talk to me this one time about how you wanted to help your cousin when I made plans to propose on the beach in Cancun, she shut down and started crying over and over and I was there to help her with her panic attack, I told her after she calmed down which took a couple hours why did you break down? she couldn't answer, the next night I was very anxious and I stupidly started drinking a lot , all I did was ask her to leave me alone. she intentionally tried to hurt me and tripped me and I almost feel of the balcony, she quickly said I was being dramatic, and all I could do was say leave me alone and sobbing being reminded of why do I keep putting up with this and blaming myself. The next morning she woke up crying telling me she will understand if I left her, I made up my mind and told myself I had to stay because we have a baby together and she isn't even one at this moment. a lot of fighting continued to happen and her hitting never stopped. She was never aware what da was until she got a test and they told her she was dismissive avoidant and she was very upset with this because she wanted to be adhd. I was taken back why would you want that. so far I kept my mouth shut about my problems until 2023 and eventually she told me she didn't love me and she felt I was no good anymore, I was getting high and drinking fire balls, I woke up so angry and frustrated and just told her why do you have such a problem with me, she said I was delusional, I was mad because I gotten so tired of her dodging my questions, I was in the room with her and our daughter was in the room. Till this day my ex will never be honest what happened that day, she hit me so much I got pulled down on the floor all because of my eyes, she said I looked dangerous, which I'm very confused with this because I never ever hit her even once, she said I put myself on the floor and i was furious and screamed at anger which was so stupid of me, my mind was telling me go to the other room, but all i can think about is if she is able to hit me she might be able to hurt my daughter, so i grabbed my daughter away from her and my worst decision ever because i never wanted my daughter to go what i went through as a child. till this day its being used against me. because my ex's family thinks i was the one who caused all that, now im here reflecting all this, there so much more that has happened and I'm not saying at all that i was the saint. I have been diagnosed with bipolar type 1, then later find out i was misdiagnosed, and it turns out i have adhd, which is funny to me because when i told my ex this she laughed at me, i only wanted to let her know because we have a daughter together. she said i told you youre not even bipolar and your adhd, but for years she would tell me i need to apply for disability for bi polar to get her a house and i kept telling her no. i need to work it helps me. she laughed at me. she wasnt always like this all the time but yeah. i still feel its all my fault even though, im seeking medical help, a doctor, calling suicide hot line just in case i have a break down and i have been doing this since 2023 and now, i found Jesus Christ, a church, still have a full time job, currently looking for another so i can support myself and my daughter, my ex refuses to get a job and all she wants to do still is smoke weed and sell drugs. but im the asshole.
after saying all this, i hope she gets help and finds a man who will give her all the security she needed, i was never able to make her feel that ever, even though i tried to the best way i could. i dont think she is an evil person, she is just in so much pain and hurting

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The State of Palestine was in shambles. With most of the territory bombed beyond recognition, initial estimates suggest a reconstruction cost upwards of $150. While reconstruction efforts were well underway in Alexandria, Palestine suffered a substantial budgetary shortfall given its comparatively smaller government budget standing at just over $120B. After accounting for basic services and defence, a mere $40B remains. While the nation had the technical know-how and technology to rebuild at a rapid pace, this would come at a cost.
President Habash and the cabinet had deliberated for hours as the current situation was unsustainable, especially giving a looming need to invest in self-defence in light of a potential civil war on the horizon. Lending would offer a temporary solution, and while home to the Central Bank, the Caliphate Dinar was substantially devalued and further printing may result in hyperinflation. Moroever, fears of lending from nations offering high interest loans such as Japan resulted in a general aversion to such practices. The Roman Development Bank had offered a $2B low interest line of credit to build a robotics facility that would help facilitate construction. Beyond this, reconstruction would be slow without substantial foreign support. Foreign support from unpopular invading parties, however, is generally not desirable. While it would be another 5 years before an election cycle, it would not be wise to antagonize rejectionist elements lest the existing insurgency intensifies.
As the cabinet continued to weigh their options, a new lifeline had appeared in the form of an automated diplomatic communication sent directly to the office of the newly elected president:

INITIATING DIPLOMATIC PROTOCOL....
THE CUSTODIANSHIP OF ALEXANDRIA WOULD LIKE TO EXTEND ITS SUPPORT TO THE STATE OF PALESTINE AND CONGRATULATES YOU ON YOUR VICTORY. WE WISH TO SEE OUR NEIGHBOURS PROSPER. WE NOTE, HOWEVER, THAT RECONSTRUCTION MAY BE DIFFICULT AT THIS CURRENT TIME. WE ARE PREPARED TO OFFER YOU LOW INTEREST LOANS AND RECONSTRUCTION ASSISTANCE IN EXCHANGE FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF A COMMAND NODE IN EACH MAJOR CITY IN NEED OF RECONSTRUCTION. WE HAVE A LARGE NUMBER OF RECONSTRUCTION DROIDS READY. WE HOPE TO HEAR FROM YOU SOON
OFFICE OF CUSTODIAN RASHID
END TRANSMISSION

While the offer of reconstruction aid was tempting, Prime Minister Mahmoud noted that it was strange that the custodianship was willing to offer funding to Palestine while it was also in need of funding. Speaker Khalifa interjected "We could simply funnel foreign funding through Alexandria as an intermediary if they will allow it...". After some deliberation, the members agreed to funnel future foreign aid beyond direct humanitarian assistance already provided by the UNSC through Alexandria as an intermediary, establishing a series of shell companies and Alexandria-based NGOs that would administer this reconstruction aid. This measure was a temporary one while the insurgency continues, allowing Palestine to further relations with both the UNSC and the Bandung Pact and letting the domestic situation cool.
Reconstruction Efforts
By employing similar strategies to those used by Alexandria, Palestine would have to be rebuilt from the ground up with a series of 15 minute cities built on the ruins of destroyed cities. Given the scale of the destruction, the centre of government would move from the former state capital of Ascalan to the former federal capital in Jerusalem, relatively unscathed from the bombing. Using a series of printed construction droids and modular 3D printed houses, much of the nation will be rebuilt from the ground up. Reconstruction efforts in this sphere would cost approximately $120B.
New cities are to be built along transit corridors and focus on using key principles in urban design including the use of green space, transit-oriented-development, and distributed high-density population centres. The damaged high-speed rail connections between the various cities will be repaired allowing for the nation to be once again highly integrated. This corridor will cost some $10B to repair.
In addition to rebuilding the urban infrastructure, fusion power plants, water treatment plants, water filtration facilities, microfusion cell manufacturing facilities, metal refineries, nanochip facilities, and robotics facilities will have to be repaired, providing Palestine with self sufficiency relating to energy, water, and restoring manufacturing. These facilities are expected to cost some $50B to repair.
Much like every other sector of the economy, the Palestinian agricultural sector has taken a heavy toll due to the war as large fields sit empty and abandoned as farmers feared being bombed by invading forces or killed by rogue xenomorphs. Now that a sense of security has been restored, the nation can rebuild. An additional $10B will be invested from the government budget in agricultural subsidies and assistance in rebuilding Palestinian agritech industries.
Lastly, the government will leverage the various Caliphate-era underground gigafactories to kick-start production to improve the defence of the nation, employing the UNSC policy of self-defense, even at a high cost. "Sell your cloak and buy a sword". Given their presence deep underground, $5B worth of repairs should be sufficient to rebuild the droid manufacturing capability of Palestine and provide it with the means of defending itself, even if this comes at a high cost.
Military Procurement
The Palestine Defense Force is to be officially reestablished to ensure stability. Having suffered immensely during the war and having lost a quarter of the population, war is extremely unfavorable in Palestine with recruitment being a herculean task. After receiving a communication from the Custodianship about potential support for Palestinian armament given its concern about "eastern threats", the Palestinian parliament agreed on a large investment package over the next 2 years to be spent on the armed forces. $70B will be spent on the creation of two [droid armies]https://www.reddit.com/worldpowers/comments/tgw7ih/secret_droid_instincts_a_future_army/) over a 4 year period, largely funded by the custodianship's loans and using surviving materials from underground production facilities. These armies will be effective in putting down a potential rejectionist insurrection as well as potential incursions from neighbouring states while minimizing the human cost. Existing soldiers forming part of the collaborationist faction now-turned-Palestine Defense Force will largely take officer roles in the army and will direct and communicate with the various droids through BCI connections. The Palestine Defence force has reached out to the UNSC for support in integrating various lines of communication to ensure the defence of the nation and a joint response to various threats that may emerge.
In addition to the new armies, a new $10B air defense network will be established at 8 Sites across major regions covering the country, consisting of 5 New SAMP/T batteries, 5 Badshah Laser Point Defense batteries, and 2 Shahenshah Air Defence batteries in each location. Lastly, 4B will go towards a small fleet of 12 Dassault Etoile-Nedjmas with their companion aircraft and 24 Dassault Azms will be built to defend Palestinian airspace. 2 A-350 Sherdil AWACs aircraft will also be procured for this purpose.
Summary:

• 2 Droid Armies (70B)
  
• 12 Dassault EN (1.2B)
  
• 24 Dassault Azm (2.4B)
  
• 2 Sherdil AWACS (500m)
  
• 8 Air Defense Sites (10B)
  

Node Construction
Ultimately, the sum of all programs will come at a cost of $279B, which would take some 7 years to pay off assuming no interest, and some 10 years to pay off with moderate interest. Given a need for a self defence force, Palestine engaged with the Alexandrian Custodianship to secure further lines of credits in exchange for the establishment of 3 "nodes" in its territory operating as embassies and a direct line of contact with the Alexandrian government within a 6 month period.
The nodes consist of a guarded gated complex with a series of sensors and communications devices receiving information about the surrounding area and transmitting it across the RASHID network and nearby droids. Several meeting rooms are present for dignitaries in front of a large hologram where the custodianship may receive guests and where Alexandrian citizens can receive consular services by appointment. Magnaguards sent by the Alexandrian government prowl and monitor the facility, leading guests to their rooms, with the main processing units and quantum computers in an area accessible only to Alexandrian droid units and engineers. A series of Lidar sensors, cameras, heat sensors, among other devices are present in virtually every corridor ensuring that all who enter are monitored. Should an anomaly or attack attempt be detected, the facility may air-gap itself and cut out from the rest of the network as a defence mechanism against viruses, while another secondary hyperintelligent quantum-powered AI attempts to track down the issue and resolve it.
Following the construction of the node, the Alexandrian government would redirect some of the construction droids to Palestine to assist in reconstruction efforts and accelerate the construction of additional droid manufacturing facilities by optimizing their processes using the nodes as a central base of operations.
[m: Secrecy for the shell companies largely as well as the specifications of the military manufacturing and nodes. The existence of the nodes as embassies/optimization centres is however public, as are the reconstruction efforts]

Hey everyone,
I hope you're all having a great day! I’m really excited to share some insights into the latest real estate trends and forecasts. Whether you're a seasoned investor, a first-time homebuyer, or just fascinated by the real estate market, I think you’ll find this interesting.

What’s Hot in Real Estate for 2024?

1. Suburban Shift: With remote work here to stay, more people are moving away from crowded cities to the suburbs. This trend is pushing up property values and demand in those areas.
2. Green Living: Sustainable and eco-friendly homes are becoming super popular. Properties with energy-efficient features and green building materials are not only good for the planet but also attractive to buyers.
3. Smart Homes: Technology is revolutionizing homes. Think smart thermostats, security systems, and appliances that make life easier and homes more efficient.
4. Affordable Housing: There's a big push towards making housing more affordable. New projects and government initiatives are aimed at addressing this critical issue.
5. Investing in REITs: Real Estate Investment Trusts are gaining traction. They offer a way to invest in real estate without the hassle of owning physical property.

Must-Read Forecast Reports

1. Urban Land Institute (ULI) Report: Offers a deep dive into market trends and emerging issues. A great resource for anyone wanting to stay ahead of the game.
2. PwC’s Emerging Trends in Real Estate: Packed with insights on what’s shaping the industry, this report is a goldmine of information.
3. Zillow’s Market Forecast: Provides a detailed look at home values, inventory, and market conditions. Perfect for getting a sense of where things are headed.

Why Should You Care?

• Investors: Spot new opportunities and make informed decisions.
• Homeowners: Know the best times to buy, sell, or renovate.
• Real Estate Pros: Stay updated to better serve your clients.

I’m here because I love sharing knowledge and helping others navigate the real estate world. If you’re looking for personalized advice or a detailed market analysis, check out my Fiverr services. I’d love to help you out!
Let’s turn this into a lively discussion! Have you noticed any of these trends in your area? What other trends do you think will shape the future of real estate? Share your thoughts and let’s learn from each other.

Much like the rest of you, I have scrolled breakups many nights with teary eyes wondering if this was gonna be the end of my life. Dramatic, I know but if you’re here, I’m sure you understand the pain of heartbreak.
A few months back, I made the painful discovery of my partners online infidelity and shameful porn addiction. I immediately moved out of our home, and stopped all contact for the following month. Just when I had begun to heal, attended therapy and began to enjoy my own company, he came back. He begged for me claiming it was a mistake, the usual spiel. I didn’t buy it and turned him away. But he kept at it, promising everything I needed to hear. I decided to give him another chance, our relationship was incredible before all of this and I wanted to believe he could be who I wanted.
Well, it has been 3 months since then and I can say I am the happiest I’ve been. The commitment he has made to making me feel safe and secure in the relationship has been amazing, he has sought therapy for his addictions and is completely transparent and honest with anything I ask.
What I want to say is, most people condemn those that return to people that have hurt them. But if that person IS willing to put in the effort to make things better and create a safe space for the relationship to heal, then do what makes your heart happy and trust in your choice.

Thanks in advance for your feedback. I'm 33F and he is 32M. Dating 1 year. We want to move in to a new apartment together but I'm questioning the relationship now. Resorting to bullet points because of my ADHD:
The Good Stuff

• the best man I have ever dated. I have struggled a long time to find a good man and he is one
• golden heart, generous, funny, sweet, emotionally stable, secured attached, true gentleman, he argues well during arguments and doesn't yell or shut down
• takes amazing care of me that I try to reciprocate but it's hard when he is so giving! He pays for all restaurant outings and when I lose the fight for the check I've started to venmo him the next day.
• Accompanies me to all my doctor appointments (I am currently dealing with a health issue)
• we are both vegetarian, which I value and is hard to find

The Stuff I don't Like

• he still lives at home with his family in their basement rental unit, rent free to save money to buy a house. Has no experience living alone but he does his own cooking and cleaning
• how he will buy a house I have no idea. He is chronically underemployed by choice and therefore makes a lot less money than I do. He has never worked more than 30 hours per week in his life
• when I asked him 'what are your financial goals?' he told me he has none. When I pressed him he said his goal is to work as less as possible and to make enough money to survive. He wants us to move to a LCOL area in the middle of nowhere to enable his dream to survive working part time only. He is very anti-materialistic, but I would like to have a nice, clean apartment again to live in. I will have to foot the bill if I want to live with him or accept a downgrade in what I'm used to living in and we go 50/50.
• none of his friends, except for one, have jobs. They are all unemployed and live at home too in their early 30s... maybe I'm being too judgmental here, but my friend group is the opposite.
• and lastly, his parents have bed bugs in their house and it spread to his basement room... they waited over A MONTH to call an exterminator (omg why? They didn't seem to care about having bed bugs!) and have since received 2 pesticide bomb treatments. They claim they are bedbug-free now but.... that was a huge ick and we had a big fight because I could have caught them from my visits! He apologized profusely and promised to do better, but I am worried this reveals a huge incompatibility and a gulf between our standards of living. And I don't want bedbugs!

It's hard because I've dated lawyers and bankers etc. in the past and they were the most controlling and selfish people I've met who often cheated on me. I'm also struggling to pay my rent due to a recent major rent hike, so I also feel some financial pressure to move in.

A cabin remained half-rooved on its eastern face by pelts of dead things while the west slanted with a freshly cleared and smooth metal—it stood alongside a dugout stocked with crates; the structures overlooked an open plane of snow from their hilly perch and beyond that there were black jagged trees against the dreary yonder. Though the wind pushed as an abrupt force against the cabin’s walls, within the noise was hardly a whisper and the heater lamps along the interior walls of the large singular room offered a steady hum that disappeared even that.
The room had two beds—one double and another short cot pushed into a corner— and each was separated by a thin curtain nailed to the overhead support beams; the curtain caught in the life of the place, the gust from the heater lamps, the movement of those that lived there, and it listed so carefully it might not have moved at all.
Opposite the beds on the far wall, there stood a kitchen with cabinets and a stove, and the stove was attended by a thin young woman; she was no older than her second decade. In the corner by the stove just beyond where the kitchen counter ended, there sat a rocking chair where an old man nestled underneath pelts and a wool blanket, and he puffed tobacco and he watched the woman as she worked—she stirred the pot over a red eye and examined the liquid which lowly simmered. The man watched her silently, eyes far away like in remembrance. He absently pushed his gray mustache down with the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. Smoke came from the pipe in spider string and the man blinked dumbly.
Amid the place where pelts lined the floor between the far wall of beds and the far wall of the kitchen, there sat a young pale boy with a scrap of canvas rubbish in the center—he used the canvas strip, browned and filthy, like a bird in his play, spreading the strip out and letting it fall to the ground. “Fly,” whispered the small boy to the strip; each time he lifted the rubbish, it fell to the floor by his crossed legs, and he repeated this process.
The adults ignored the boy, and the woman swiped the back of her hand across her forehead then wiped her knuckles down the front of her blouse. “It’ll be ready soon,” she said.
The man nodded then drifted off in his long expression again, staring at the door which remained closed. Wind speed pitched and the door seemed to warp inward. Alongside the door, there sat a thick glass porthole which one could use to look out on the snow-covered landscape; the curtains before the porthole were mostly drawn but on late evenings, light splintered through ghostly.
Shrugging of his warm coverings, the man lifted from the chair and crossed the room to pull aside the curtains; he stood there in the light of the hole, painted dull in his gray thermals. He watched outside, scratched his receding hairline and when he moved to shut the curtain, he saw the boy had joined him there at the window. The man smiled, lifted the curtain, and angled from there, allowing the boy to peer outside; he puffed on his pipe heavily, holding the thing stiffly with his free hand and offering a glance to the woman by the stove who watched the pair from where she was.
“I can’t even see the road,” said the boy.
The man nodded, “Snow covered it.”
“It’s winter?”
Again, the man nodded.
Winter, with the mutated ecology of the planet, was nearly a death sentence in northern Manitoba. Those places just north of Lake Winnipeg were mostly forgotten or abandoned, but there still lingered a few souls that dared the relative safety of the frozen wasteland—sometimes curious vagabonds, sometimes ex-convicts, or slaves, sometimes even criminals upstarted townships where there was nothing prior.
“Pa, I see someone,” said the boy.
The man angled forward again, squinted through the porthole, and puffed the pipe hard so his face glowed orange then moved surprisingly quickly to hand the pipe to the woman; she fumbled with the object and sat it upright on the counter while he rushed to remove a parka from a wall hook by the door. He shouldered into the thing and then leapt to the place by the door where his boots were kept and slammed into them each, knotting them swiftly.
“What is it?” the woman’s voice shook.
They caught one another’s eyes. “Snowmobile,” said the man.
“One?”
He nodded and strapped his gloves on then moved to the latch of the door—before levering the thing, he took another glance at the boy.
“We’ll shut it behind you,” said the boy. The woman nodded.
The door swung inward with explosive force and the outside wind ripped into the warm abode. The man immediately shivered and stumbled into the snow, appropriately clothed save his legs where only his gray thermals clung to him.
After spilling into the boot-high snow, the man twisted around and aided the others in shutting the door behind him; he pulled as they pushed, and he listened past the howling wind for the latch on the opposite side of the door. He let go of the door and spun to inspect the far-off blinding whiteness—clouds of snow were thrown up in the wake of a barreling snowmobile; it headed towards him, first from between the naked spaces between the black trees then into the open white. The man threw up both his hands, waving the snowmobile down, long stepping through the arduous terrain till he came to the bottom of the perch that supported the cabin. His shouts of, “Hey!” were totally lost in the wind but still he shouted.
The snowmobile braked twenty yards out from the man and the stranger on the machine killed the engine, adjusted the strings around their throat and threw off the hood of their own parka to expose blackened goggles beneath a gray tuque; a wrap obscured the lower half of their face. The stranger took a gloved hand to yank the wrap from their mouth and yelled over the wind a greeting then removed themselves from the seat to land in the snow.
“Cold?” offered the man with a shout.
The stranger nodded in agreement and removed an oblong instrument case from the rear storage grates of the snowmobile then took a few careful steps towards the man.
“Dinner’s almost ready! I’m sure you’d like the warmth!” The man waved the stranger closer and the stranger obliged, following the man towards the cabin; each of the figures tumbled through the snow with slow and swiveling footwork. The man stopped at the door, supporting himself on the exterior wall by the porthole.
The stranger angled within arm’s reach, so the man did not have to yell as loudly as before. “Guitar?” The man pointed at the case which the stranger carried.
The stranger nodded.
“Maybe you’ll play us something.” he pounded on the metal of the exterior door, “It’s been some time since I’ve heard music.” The door opened and the two stumbled into the cabin.
The stranger shivered and snow dust fell from their shoulders as they deposited the guitar case on the floor by their feet—they moved directly to help the man and the boy close the door while the woman watched and held her elbows by the porthole.
With the door sealed and the latch secured, the man removed his parka so that he was in his boots and thermals.
The stranger removed their own parka, lifted the goggles to their forehead, and stepped to the nearby heater lamp to remove their gloves and warm their hands against the radiating warmth; the stranger was a young tall man with a hint of facial hair just below his nose and along his jaw. He wore a gun belt occupied on his right hip with a revolver. His fingers were covered in long faded scars all over. “Thanks,” said the young man, “Clarkesville far? I think I was turned around in the snow. I’m not so used to it.”
The older man went to his rocking chair to cover himself with the wool blanket; he huffed and shivered. “At least a hundred kilometers west from here. You’re looking for Clearwater?”
The young man nodded then shifted to place his back to the heater lamp so that he could look on the family fully. “I’m Gomez,” he said to them. The man in the rocking chair stiffened in his seat and craned forward so that his boots were flatly planted before him.
The boy offered his name first with a smile so broad it exposed that his front two teeth along the bottom row were missing entirely. “Patrick,” said the boy.
The woman spoke gently and nodded in a quick reply, “Tam-Tam.”
“Huh?” asked the man in the chair, “You’re unfamiliar of the area? Where are you from?”
Gomez stuffed his arms beneath his armpits. “Originally?”
The man motioned for his pipe and Tam-Tam handed it to him—puffed on the dead tobacco and frowned. He nodded at Gomez.
“I’ve been making my way across the U.S. Mostly western territories, but I heard it was safer in Canada—North Country. Fewer prowlers. Originally though? Far south. Zapatistas—joined their cause for a bit, but,” Gomez looked to the guitar case on the floor, “I was better at music than killing. Or at least preferred it.” The young man let go of a small laugh, “Do you know anything of the Zapatistas?”
The man nodded, stroked his great mustache, and craned far to lift matches from the counter. He lit the pipe, and it smoked alive while he shook the match and puffed. “Durango.” The man hooked a thumb at himself.
Gomez nodded. “I played there before. Good money. Good people.”
The man grinned slyly over his pipe, “What are the odds? All the way up here?”
“It’s a small world,” Gomez agreed, “It’s getting smaller all the time. What are you doing so far from home?”
“Same as you. It’s safer, right? Everyone said, but I’m not so sure.”
The boy interjected, “You play music?” Patrick neared the case which sat on the floor, and he leaned forward to examine the outside of the object; it was constructed from a very hard, shining, plastic material.
“I do,” said Gomez.
“I haven’t heard music before. We sing sometimes, but not music for real,” said the boy.
Gomez frowned. “How old are you?”
Patrick turned to the man in the chair. “Pa?”
“He’s six,” said the man.
Tam-Tam shook her head, removing the pot from the hot eye. “He’s almost six.”
“Almost six,” said the boy, turning back to look at the stranger.
Gomez shook his head. “Almost six and you’ve never heard music? Not for real?” He sniffed through a cold clog and swallowed hard. “I’ll play you some.”
Patrick’s eyes widened and a delicate smile grew across his mouth.
“I’m Emil,” said the man in his chair, “You offered yours, so my name’s Emil.” Smoke erupted from his mouth while the pipe glowed orange. The older man wafted the air with his hand to dispel the smoke.
Tam-Tam Shut off the oven and placed the pot of stew on the counter atop a towel swatch and she pressed her face to the brim and inhaled.
“Is it good, dear?” asked Emil leaning forward in his chair by the counter to question the woman; the woman lifted a steaming ladle to her mouth and sipped then nodded and Patrick moved quickly to the woman’s side.
The boy received the first bowl and then turned to look at the interloper, metal spoon jammed into the side of his jaw while he spoke, “Play some music.”
“After,” said Emil, placing the pipe on the counter to grab himself some grub.
Emil ate while rocking in his chair and Tam-Tam leaned with her back against the counter, sipping directly from her bowl without a utensil. Gomez took his own bowl and squatted by the front door, pressing his lower back against the wall for support; Patrick, eyes wide, remained enamored with the strange man and questioned more, “Pa said it's warm in other places, that it’s not so dark either. What’s it like where you come from?”
Gomez smiled at the boy, blew on the spoonful he held in front of his lips then nodded, “It’s dangerous, more dangerous.”
Patrick nodded emphatically then finished his food with enthusiasm.
The stranger examined the bowl while turning the stew in his mouth with his tongue; the concoction had long-cut onions, chunked potatoes, strange jerky meat. “Pelts,” said Gomez.
Emil perked with a mouthful, unable to speak.
“You have pelts all over—are you a hunter?”
Emil swallowed back, “Trapper,” he nodded then continued the excavation of his bowl.
“Elk?”
The old man in the chair hissed in air to cool the food in his mouth then swallowed without hardly chewing, and patted his chest, “Sometimes.”
Gomez stirred his bowl, took a final bite then dipped the spoon there in the stew and sat the dish by his foot and moved to kneel and open his instrument case.
“It’ll get cold,” protested Tam-Tam.
Gomez smiled, “I’ll eat it. Your boy seems excited. Besides, I’d like to play a little.” He wiggled his scarred fingers, “It’ll work the cold out of my hands.”
He pressed the switches of the case while turning it on its side and opened it to expose a flamenco guitar. Patrick edged near the stranger, and Gomez nodded at the boy and lifted the guitar from its case, angling himself against the wall in a half-sit where his rear levitated. Gomez played the strings a bit, listened, twisted the nobs at the head of the guitar.
“Is that it?” asked the boy.
Gomez shook his head, “Just testing it. Warming my hands on it.”
In moments, the man began ‘Paloma Negra’, singing the words gently, in a higher register than his speaking voice would have otherwise hinted at. Patrick watched the man while he played, the boy’s hands remained clasped behind himself while he teetered on his heels and listened. Emil rocked in the chair, finished his meal, and relit the pipe. Tam-Tam listened most absently and instead went for seconds in the pot; she turned with her lower back on the counter and watched the man with the guitar.
There was no other noise besides the song which felt haunted alongside the hum of the heater lamps. Once it finished, the boy clapped, Emil clapped, Tam-Tam nodded, and Gomez bowed then sat the guitar beneath the porthole by the doorway.
“Thank you,” said Gomez.
“That’s quite good,” said Emil. As if spurred on by the music, the man gently rotated a palm around his stomach and rocked in his chair more fervently, “Where’d you learn to play like that?”
“All over,” said Gomez, “I like to pick up songs where I find them. Sometimes a fellow musician has a piece I like, almost never their own anyway, so I think we all share in some way.”
“Poetic,” offered Tam-Tam.
Gomez caught the woman’s eyes, nodded. “I guess it is.”
“Where’d you find that one?” asked Emil, “I heard it a few times but never this far north. It’s like a love song,” he offered the last sentence to the others in the room.
“You’re right—sort of,” Gomez placed his body against the wall by the door, glanced at the bowl of food he’d left on the floor then sighed and bowed again to lift it—the interloper tilted the bowl back on his bottom lip and sipped then casually leaned with the utensil against his sternum. “Somewhere in Mexico is where I heard it first. Maybe same as you.”
Patrick examined the guitar under the porthole, put his face directly up to the strings and peered into the hole in the center of the instrument; his expression was one of awe. He quickly whipped from the thing and stared at the guitarist and opened his mouth like he intended to ask a question. The boy stared at the scars on the interloper’s hands. “What’s those from?”
Not understanding the direction of the question, Gomez looked down to examine his fingers then shifted on his feet and nodded. “Mechanical work.”
Emil continued rocking in his chair and gathered the wool around his throat. “Where did you do that?”
“Zapatistas,” Gomez sipped from the bowl again and chewed, “It’s work I was never good at.” The young man shrugged.
“I wasn’t going to pry, but seeing as the boy’s asked, I’ll push more some if it’s not impolite.”
“It’s not,” Gomez agreed.
“That’s a lot of deep scarring for mechanical work,” Emil rocked in his chair, puffed, raised a furry eyebrow, “What stuff did you work on?”
“You want to know?”
Emil nodded, withdrew the pipe from his mouth and rolled his wrist out in front of himself then slammed the mouthpiece into his teeth.
“I worked with the army, but before then—well there was a boy, a little Chicano lad taken into one of the El Paso houses way back and all the girls that worked there loved him, but his mother perished, and no one even knew who she was. That was, oh,” Gomez tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, “Twenty-two years ago or a little more.”
“Your hands?” asked Tam-Tam.
Gomez smiled warm and continued, “Well this little boy was given a name, but what’s in a name?” He seemed to pose the question to Emil who shook his head like he didn’t understand.
“I don’t understand,” said Emil aloud.
The younger man continued with the tale, “There was this boy, but he was taken over the Republican border by a group of desperados calling themselves Los Carniceros,” Gomez angled down to look at the boy, “Patrick, do you know what a desperado is?”
The boy shook his head, his expression one of total bafflement and a twinkle of nervousness. “A music-people?”
Gomez laughed heartily while Emil shuffled under his wool blanket—the older man stopped rocking in his chair, craned forward so his elbows rested on his knees and his thermals showed as the blanket slipped around his armpits. The hum of the heater lamps continued beside the silence.
“Los Carniceros are a group of fancy criminals that hail out of Veracruz, but they have networks all over. San Luis Potosi.” Gomez’s eyes locked with Emil’s, “Durango. They have connections with the cattle industries all over Mexico. Their name’s tongue-in-cheek, but that shouldn’t fool anyone—they are just as ready to butcher a man as they are a cow. They control the food; they control the politicians; they control trade.” Gomez shook his head. “I’ve gotten carried away. This is no history lesson. There was a boy taken into Los Carniceros territory. He was bought—I’m glad that never happened to you, Patrick—boys that are bought are never kept good for long. So, they brought Johnny-Boy, that’s what they called him, into their inner circle and they used to have Johnny-Boy fight dogs in a ring for the amusement of Los Carniceros’s officers. Sometimes they gambled on the whether the boy would die, but he never did.”
Tam-Tam shivered aloud and rubbed her biceps with her hands and shook her head. “What’s that have anything to do with your hands?”
“You’re right,” said Gomez, “I guess what I mean is when you spend time fighting dogs, they bite—they bite hard, and they break skin that needs to heal. But just as well as dogs bite, so too does the boy that is raised as a dog.” Gomez shrugged.
“Quite the story,” said Emil; he’d refrained from rocking in his chair and stayed very still. “You fought dogs?”
“I did. It’s been a helluva long time, but you know I did, Emil Vargas.”
The older man took a long drag from his pipe then cupped the thing in his hands while his vision drifted around the room. “Have you come to take me back?” asked the older man.
The interloper shook his head.
Emil’s gaze drifted to the faces of Patrick and Tam-Tam. “Will it just be me?”
Gomez shook his head, “I can do you first. You won’t need to see it.”
“What?” clamored Tam-Tam, “What the hell is going on?”
Patrick stumbled away from the stranger, clung to Tam-Tam, and said nothing but began to let out a low sob.
Emil took one last drag and tossed the pipe to the counter. “It wouldn’t help to beg?”
“Would it stop you?” asked Gomez.
“Probably not,” nodded the older man, “Me first then.”
Gomez withdrew his revolver and Tam-Tam let go of an awful shriek as Emil’s head jerked back in his chair to the bullet entering his chest. At the second bullet, Emil’s limbs shot out from him like he was a star.
Patrick and Tam-Tam gathered around each other, shuffled to the counter of the kitchen.
Juan Rodriguez—that was the interloper’s real name—took a step forward and fired the gun again and Tam-Tam struck the counter and blood rained down from her forehead; to perhaps save Patrick, she shoved the boy away in her death spasm. The boy stumbled over onto his knees and when he raised his head, Juan towered over him.
Patrick, almost six, shook violently and wept.
“Turn around,” said Juan.
Patrick turned away from the interloper, stared at the corpses of his mother and father.
Juan fired the revolver one last time and the boy hit the floor; the man holstered the pistol and wiped his cheek with a sleeve. His face was touched with blood splatter; he searched the floor, found a scrap of canvas, bent to snatch it. He wiped his face clear with the canvas and sighed and tossed the scrap away.
The cabin was entirely quiet, save the hum of the heater lamps, and Juan set about clearing the bodies from the cabin, first by opening the door. He chucked the corpse of the boy into the snow by the door, piled his mother alongside him, and fought with the heavier corpse of Emil till Juan fell into the snow beside the others. He pulled himself from the thick storm, staggered through the whistle-blow wind and fought through grunts and mild shouts to close the door.
Upon spinning with the closed door at his back, he saw several of the heater lamps had gone out in the wind. Shivering, teeth chattering, Juan found Emil’s matches on the counter and set about relighting each of the heater lamps which had gone out; he did the act automatonlike, a person driven by force but no lively one.
Through the harsh outside wind, which sounded like breathing against the boards, he hummed a tune to himself that manifested into him whistling a light tune—the River Kwai March—then rifled through the cabinetry of the kitchen, went through the footlocker by the double bed and dumped the contents onto the floor; he kicked the personal affects—papers, trinkets—across the boards. Among the things, he found a shiny glass-reflective tablet, lifted it, pocketed the thing into his parka, then kept looking for what else might catch his attention. He found a small square picture, frameless, face down and lifted it to his eyes then angled over to the nearest heater lamp with it pinched by the corner. The photo was of a woman too young to be a mother—she was more of a girl, really; she carried a fat-bellied infant on her hip in one arm and with the other, she held up a dual-finger peace sign. Juan stared at the picture in complete silence then chuckled at the blank expression of the baby, then threw the square photo like a shuriken across the room; it thunked against the wall and disappeared behind the double bed, never to be seen ever again.
As it went full dark outside, the chitter sounds of outside became prevalent, and Juan went to the porthole by the door, pulled the curtains tightly closed and offered no response to the alien sounds which culminated around the walls of the cabin. It was delirium incarnate—abyssal noise which swallowed even the blizzard howl. Things moved outside and Juan went to the kitchen again, looked over the cabinet doors, opened and slammed them; he huffed with exasperation and moved to the pot where the cooled stew sat and began to eat directly from there with the ladle. His far-off eyesight glared into the dimness of the heater lamps, his face glowing by them, and once he was finished with the pot, he chucked the thing and watched the leftover contents splatter into a wild configuration across the single room’s floor.
Only after removing his boots, he fell onto the double bed, removed his revolver from the holster and placed it there on the well-maintained bedding beside himself; he slept with his parka draped over his torso.
He did not open his eyes for the insect noises of the outside.
In the morning, he promptly wiped sleep from his eyes, rebolstered his weapon, and stared across the room with a blank expression. In a moment, spasm-like, he removed the tuque he slept in to reveal a head of black hair, and scratched his fingers over his head. He replaced the tuque, went to the porthole; upon swiping away the curtains, he stared into the white expanse, the black forest beyond—he took the sleeve of his thermal shirt and wiped across the porthole’s glass where condensation fogged.
Knee-high snow hills spilled inward as he opened the door, and he kicked the snow out lazily and stomped into the mess while shouldering his parka on; the hood flapped helplessly till he stiffly yanked it down his forehead. The wind was entirely mild, still. Through goggled eyes, he examined around the entrance, but there was no sign of the corpses—he waywardly stomped through the heavied snow in the place he’d deposited them and there was nothing below the surface.
Juan stumbled through the high snow around to where the dugout stood alongside the cabin and traced a smallish hill where he crawled for a moment to gather his footing. Snow had fallen in through the high apertures of the dugout, but there was a small door-gate attached between two of the pillars which held the slanted roof of the dugout. After fighting the door-gate out, he squeezed through, removed a flashlight from the inner pocket of his parka and settled down the few steps which led into the earth. A bit of morning light spilled in through those spaces of the wall along the high points, just beneath the roof, but Juan held the flashlight in his mouth and began examining the mess of snow-dusted containers.
Along the lefthand were sacks, well preserved if only for the weather; he kicked a tobacco sack—there was a crunch underfoot. Opposite the piled sacks of grains, vegetables, and dried meats were many metal crates, each one with hinges. At the rear of the dugout were a series of battery banks which seemed to hum with electricity.
He stomped each of the sacks, cocked his left ear to the air and began making a mess of the dugout. One crate contained expensive wooden boarding, he tipped this over into the little hallway created by the goods and carefully examined the contents and then he went to the next. The next crate was bolts of fabrics and twine and he sneered, shook his head.
The interloper took a moment, fell rear-first on the sacks, pulled the flashlight from his mouth and pawed across his forehead and throat; he sighed and sat quiet—in a moment, he was back at the search, more furiously. He rocked his head backward, so the parka hood fell away; sweat shined his face. There were condensed snares and jaws and there was a small crate of maple-infused wine; Juan froze when holding one of the bottles up to the higher natural light. He grimaced but set the box of bottles by the entryway, removing one which he slid into his parka. The Clarkesville Winery stamp was impressed on the metal wall of the package.
After several crates of canned goods, his movements became more sluggish and Juan came upon a crate that seemed to be more of the same, but whenever he tipped it over for the contents to spill out, a smaller, ornate wooden box fell out and he hushed, “Fuck,” while hunkering into the mess to retrieve the box. Some old master carved Laelia Orchids into the grain alongside stalkish invasive sage; the wood—Acacia—was old but well kept. The bronze hardware shone cleanly enough.
The container was no longer than his forearm and he briefly held the thing to the high-light and moved to the entrance and fell haphazardly onto the strewn and half-deflated frozen tobacco sacks.
He opened the small box’s latch and flipped it’s top open and smiled at the contents and quicky slapped the box shut.
In a flash, he unburied his snowmobile with his hands, harnessed his guitar case to its rear, then trailed through the snow gathered against the side of the cabin, using the exterior wall as support with his hand. He came to the backside of the structure, tilted his head to gaze again over at the dugout then swiveled to look at the thick metal tank buried in the ground and marked by a big hump in the snow. Juan moved to the tank, brushed off the snow with gloved hands, nodded to himself. Quickly, he returned to the tank with a hand-pick and bucket he snatched from the dugout. With a few swings, fuel spilled through the punctures he’d created; he placed the bucket beneath the handmade spigots to catch the fuel—in seconds the bucket sloshed full as he lifted it and wavered round to the front of the cabin where the door remained open.
He doused the innards of the structure with the bucket and whipped the object against the interior wall then removed the matches from the counter. Standing in the doorway, he lit the awaiting inferno; the heat explosion pushed him wobble-legged outside while he covered his face from it; he hustled to the snowmobile without looking back.
The vehicle came alive, and Juan trailed across the plane he’d used the day prior. As the snowmobile met the sparse black tree line, the flames too met the fuel tank at the back of the cabin; a heavy eruption signaled, and blackbirds cawed as they trailed across the milk-blue sky.
Among the rush of trees there was a translucent figure and Juan roundabouted the snowmobile. Upon edging to the place of the forest, still very near the trapper’s cabin, Juan caught sight of a stickman among the wide spaced trunks. The noises exhausted from its face the same as a cicada’s tymbal call. Juan killed the engine, removed his pistol, leapt from the snowmobile.
The stickman fought in the snow with something unseen, bulbous-jointed limbs erratically clawed against the ground; it seemed more crab than humanoid. Juan approached with the pistol leveled out in front of himself. The stickman, a North Country native, took up great armfuls of snow as it tumbled to the ground, slanted onto its feet, then tumbled over again. It was caught in a bear trap and as the thing fought against the jaw, its leg twisted worse and worse, and the cicada call grew more distressed. Its hollow limb, smashed and fibrous like a fresh and splintered bamboo shoot, offered no blood at the wound.
“Huh,” said Juan, lowering the gun to his side. He shook his head. The stickman called to him.
The interloper returned to his snowmobile and went west.
Archive

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Our camp builds EMT conduit structures for our living area and main interactivity spaces.
Currently, we secure it to the playa by drilling lag bolts into the ground, zip-tying and duct-taping the lag bolt to the legs (like this), and attaching ratchet straps at the corners to help keep the structure tight.
This has WORKED very effectively, standing up to winds and rain without any issue or loss of structural integrity. But! I hate how wasteful the duct tape and zip ties are each year. There's got to be a better way!
We've looked into buying conduit feet like these, but the price starts to get pretty high really quickly for a 70x70 and 30x30 structure. Maybe we need to bite the bullet, but we're wondering what other options exist out there.
What methods does your camp use to secure your EMT conduit structure?

Hi all!
So I've been living in my '05 Prius for a total of almost 10 months consecutively now and 2 months during the summer of '22. I've found a lot of neat things out from here and other places however, some of these things aren't as well known and can increase your quality of life a bit more. Some of these things are pretty frugal friendly too, especially for me since I have usually zero income and don't have much money to begin with, since I spend all of my time studying, doing doordash from 12am-4am only when I'm below $500.
To start:

• Inverters are extremely helpful and easy to install almost mandatory if you use a hybrid. I have a small 150w ($18) one up front in lighter socket. I have a pure sine wave one @ 1500w ($160) but realistically I never push past 1200-1300w and if I do, not for extended periods of time. I can run my hair dryer on high heat low fan or medium heat and high fan with no problems. I can cook with my induction hot plate, rice cooker, etc. I always have my app open to monitor 12v voltage levels and amps drawn too, never dipping below 13.4v for more than a few minutes (when I use high heat high air for example). Also, make sure to buy a wattage meter (~$10) before doing anything serious, as some appliances will use more energy at the beginning
  
• Window socks (~$11) are awesome for the summer. It's like a cheap tint but also protects from insects. I had serious mosquito bite problems in summer of '22, and this made them a non factor. Also helps with light to medium rain, with windows at 50-80% rolled up. Not very stealth imo but I've had more people ask what they are and how to get them than anything else.
  
• Window tint is amazing hands down, and I wish I did this at the start. I opted for vinyl, so you can take it off and reapply it as needed. Takes about 1 min for each window to put it back on completely or about 30 seconds if you just pull it down, spray, then squeegee it back into place. It's about $20 a roll, and I have 5% on all windows. Needing about 2.5 rolls. I watched a few videos and my cuts are pretty decent but not the best. It's hard to see out of and does not get clearer, but it's fine to drive during the day for the back windows. I live in California, so 70% up front and back doesn't matter. During the day I pull down or remove the tint in the front windows if I'm driving far or if cops are nearby I roll down the front windows np. No one can see in, allowing me to setup for bed in peace at my sleep spots or to nap if it's cooler with windows cracked during the day. It reduces heat so much it's insane, as my car has no working AC, it's amazing going from 95-100F inside to 80-88F in the sun. Also it makes you feel like a gangster inside, everything is darker heh.
  
• Rain guards are also worth it (~$40, make/model ymmv) and took about 5 minutes to install for all of them. That combined with the tint allows me to blend in with no problem. Allows you to crack windows for air, less chance for insects to come in and so far no rain has gotten in, even with high wind horizontal rain.
  
• Sun shade (~$5) obviously is a must for stealth and heat, however I see other dwellers around me who don't use them which I find odd.
  
• Gym membership ($60). I used to use PF until 2 months ago. I got tired of creepy male PF employees barging in the women's locker room and a few other creepy dwellers following me around (seriously go away LOL). I use anytime now and the private showers and atmosphere is much better, also they have barbells! Definitely worth it to me, but if I was a guy I probably wouldn't have switched.
  
• UPS Store PMB (~$75), I used for 2 months in '22 and it was ok. Luckily I got an apartment so I didn't change my address to my mailbox, but this workaround will allow you to get your mail, apply for jobs without problems, and even get the address on your driver's license. However, I've been using a PO Box now for the last 10 months due to money and my last employer while homeless didn't seem to care I put a UPS Store address as my residence.
  
• Small rear view mirrors (~$5) have helped a lot! Everyone should use these, as it's helped me see when drugged out homeless stroll by and I can roll up my windows or drive away.
  
• Car jumper (~$40), the one I have serves as another power bank and can jump my car. Everyone should have one or at least have AAA.
  
• Tire air compressor (~$20), has been helpful. I have a small leak in one of my tires but not enough to warrant a change. Once every other week I use it and it's been helpful when traveling 500mi+ at a time (I drive from norcal to socal sometimes, so grapevine can be annoying).
  
• Organizers (~$10, $1.25 ea) have helped immensely and de-cluttered my car. Amazon or Dollar store made it possible. Also small trash can holder (~$8) from Amazon makes trash disposal much easier, it hangs around behind a front seat.
  
• Storage unit (~$40-60 for first few months, then double usually) is like a mini house. I have all my stuff there, portable washedryer for when I move back into a place, my car repair tools like jacks & ramps, bicycle, stationary bicycle, and much more. I can even change clothes in there without worries and store my medicine since it's climate controlled. I only go early morning or late at night. It helped remove excess clutter and...it's nice to have somewhere mostly private.
  

TIPS:

• Every time I move to a new city, I make sure to do doordash within the first week at least 1-2 times from 12am-4am. Doing this allows me to scout out spots, see and spot other dwellers, but also to find out what "No Overnight Parking Sign" areas are actually ok to park overnight. I currently sleep in the same spot at the library that has these signs, which is also directly adjacent both to a small apartment complex and a Police station. The police drive by and have never given me or any of the other 10+ dwellers here problems. It's next to a main road, but its much better than the others spots I have in this city. Seriously, this is a big one and worth the loss of sleep for a few days.
  
• Make friends with the local PD. The local PD here are pretty chill and check up on car dwellers frequently, there's some insane people but most are just quiet and chill. I make sure to let all officers know that I'm a student, just waiting for school to start. They've helped point out resources and pointed out slyly that they "can't kick anyone out" of some spots because it's private property. One also gave me a heads up that my old spot was going to get burned because someone purchased the building, and the parking lot for it was going to be burned with private security. If your PD is bad (which most are) then make sure to look up resources, there's usually soup kitchens and food pantries everywhere.
  
• Safe parking programs are a godsend. I participated in one for 6 months before I moved and it was worth it. Free snacks/food, gift cards, and other resources are available at these places usually. It's like a shelter but you stay in your car. Usually allow for 12 months or more at a time. Definitely wroth checking out.
  
• The most important thing of all is: Don't give up. I'm living in my car because I don't have any choice, no friends or family. School is my salvation, just waiting until September. Find your salvation or stick with the lifestyle. Just find a goal and roll with it.
  

There's a few other things but these I found are pretty important to consider.

Hello,
I have a story about my Steam account. Since I only use Steam for playing games already in my library and no longer buy new ones, nothing major happened in my case. For context, my account is secured to the maximum possible extent, including using the authenticator.
I detected some unusual activity on my account when I received an email thanking me for a game purchase I obviously didn’t make. I dealt with it as soon as I got home and discovered that my Steam account was accessed from China (I live in Central Europe). I refunded the game that was purchased and got the money back. I checked the login activity on Steam and found nothing suspicious. I then changed my login credentials and thought the matter was resolved.
Yesterday (about three weeks after the previous incident), I received an email regarding the sale and purchase of in-game items on the marketplace. These transactions occurred within milliseconds, and about 27 items were sold. Since I didn’t have anything particularly valuable on my account, the loss was minimal, just a few euros. However, I want to highlight the potential danger.
Of course, I immediately started investigating what was going on. My authenticator didn’t report any suspicious activity. The login history also showed nothing unusual. As a precaution, I logged out of all devices through the settings and changed my password again. Overnight, I scanned my computer with an anti-malware program, which detected Trojan/GenKryptik. This malware can reportedly perform activities on the PC, including accessing emails and passwords.
So, my question is whether it’s possible that this Kryptik Trojan was responsible for the activities on my Steam account. This would mean that no third party logged into my account, but rather some script on my PC was performing these actions.
I’m curious whether it’s feasible for such a script to autonomously carry out interactions without my knowledge, especially in an external application like Steam.
From what I understand, the goal of this activity on my account was to sell CS:GO skins for a low price, where a third party on the market would have purchase orders ready to acquire these valuable skins cheaply. Then, it would buy some cheap items from the same person for a high price, effectively emptying your account. In my case, the skins were worth around €10, but this could happen to someone with skins worth hundreds of euros.
Thanks

I have nothing aiming for me at the moment. No ambition, I’m lazy, I quit damn near every job I have unless it’s a job that I want and can’t keep. ( Remote customer service lmao )
I stay at home isolated alone away from everybody expect my mother and 2 brothers. lol also my pets.
Living all off my mom’s hard work. She has 2 jobs and is not from this country. (US)
Don’t get me wrong I make enough to get by but it’s definitely not enough since I can’t help my mom with the bills.
I stay up late playing video games drinking and smoking weed. At the same time spending my last on weed, although I’ve been buying less lately as I’m unemployed
I always wanted to make beats or get into cybersecurity but I can’t for my dear life force myself to something like this. I have zero motivation or dedication.
I was thinking about getting into a trade like for HVAC or Electricity but who knows. I want to do something this year. I graduated in 2021 and I have done absolutely nothing to be proud of. 0 savings and currently in about $1.7k of CC debt.
Am I stupid for even thinking about enlisting in the army? If I can’t succeed in the civilian life do I even have a chance in the army? I’d like to change my entire life around and provide like I’m supposed to do. Not to mention job security or all the benefits the army has to offer.
Thanks if you read and or replied.