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Have you ever felt that you'd never find someone, and if you have, did you ever find that someone and share your experiences?

2020.09.27 18:21 tetter011 Have you ever felt that you'd never find someone, and if you have, did you ever find that someone and share your experiences?

I'm a 20 year old female in college, I graduate next year with an Economics degree and plan on going to law school. Everyone around me is excited and ready for me to start the next phase in my life whether at home or off at a different state.
However, even with all this excitement and preparation and how ready I am to begin the next phase in my life I think about one thing the most... and that's how I feel no one will want me romantically.
It's silly I know. My mom and I have these talks and she gets so irritated when I talk about my love life. She explains to me that my love life shouldn't matter right now and she had the same thoughts I had at 20 and it delayed a lot for her. She finished school late and had a lot of bad relationships trying to find "the one" and gets angry when I bring up these grievances to the point where I no longer talk to her about my love life... and I tell her about everything. My friends are on the fence about wanting love or just being alone. One wants all the perks of a relationship while being single, another doesn't want them at all for awhile, and a lot have never been in a relationship. I have, but it was a highschool relationship and looking back we didnt really see each other and it was toxic.
I got into college and fell in love with someone who doesn't have his life together... he's also 7 years my senior but the way his life vs my life is going it would take a miracle for us to commit to each other. We're extremely close regardless, and we do things as if we were together and if you saw us on the street you would believe we were, but after many conversation we are not. He wants no one and he wants to get his life together (he still lives at home at 27 years old and recently graduated with his bachelor's) and I feel eventually I would leave him if something really big came along (like if I got into a school halfway across the country). So I date other people as well, nothing really comes about it, they already are on thin ice before we get very far, and being in love with someone else doesn't help either no matter our situation. I'm beginning to feel hopeless about this whole relationship thing. I want someone with consistency where we grow together and love and deal with the bad when it comes but... in this generation... or maybe my age bracket... I can say I just say that I believe it will never come. I believe a lot of things, that I am gonna get into my school and I will graduate and I will get my dream cars and travel and do what I want to do, but I don't believe I'll ever find that person...
Has anyone else felt like this? I know I'm only 20... but it's a struggle out here. I'd love to hear some stories and have some advice...
submitted by tetter011 to askwomenadvice [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 14:08 BrendaBeeblebrox How to find a boyfriend for LTR?

Hello redditors, I am 28/F from India, introvert and a doctor by profession. I have no idea how to find and date men in Bangalore that are looking for anything more than a ONS or FWB. I don't mean to be disrespectful to men...2 out of 4 of my close friends have found a longterm partner, and one got married to him recently. I use Tinder for dating, 99% men are there only for hookups. My workplace had female majority, no admirable man in my age range who was also single. Most of my colleagues are very senior to me in age and experience.... so I can't socialize with them. I don't have friends here as I lived in a hostel during MBBS and all my college hostel friends moved back to their native place. I had a flatmate who was from another part of the country(North India), she quickly make a clique(and a boyfriend) for herself within 2 months, her friends used to visit our place, and we all had a good time together, but I always felt somewhat excluded because I am South Indian. And none of her guy friends were single( her own boyfriend was a friend's friend). As long as she was here I used to hang out with them, other than my colleagues. Apart from that I like going on treks once every couple of months. I've had a few men show interest, but unfortunately I did not like them.
For context- I grew up in an all girls military styled boarding school, so I did not even talk to boys till I completed my 12th grade. I had a long distance relationship with a guy I met in my hometown during my MBBS freshmen year, but I broke up with him within a year. I had another 6 month stint with a classmate when we were sophomores, he broke up with me due to his own personal problems. After that I kinda got played by a guy I met on tinder... I thought we had more, I felt things for him, but he never called me his girlfriend, increasingly it became clear to me that all he wanted from me was sex, later he moved to the US and I stopped talking to him.
It's been 3 yrs since then, and all I've had are hookups from men on tinder. I met one of them for 3 or 4 times and was interested in him, but as soon as I showed interest for a relationship he said he was seeing someone else and went on to marry her within 6 months. I had a crush on a man I met through work, we met twice and I thought he liked me, even he got a new girlfriend within a couple of months.
I am not interested in an arranged marriage, but I don't know how to find a boyfriend in my current situation. It somehow happens that men I am not interested in are the ones to ask me out. And men I do seem interested in for a relationship tend to pass me up. Work from home and lockdown have made the situation even worse.
BMI-30, have been overweight since I was 17 after I developed PCOS. Have yo-yoed with my weight whenever I attempted weight loss. And courtesy of mostly living alone...I mostly ate takeout from restaurants(not necessarily junk, but you know how oily restaurant food can be) I am still working on my weight. I am doing the Chloeting challenges now since a month.
Appreciate inputs from men and women, Indians or others.
submitted by BrendaBeeblebrox to RedPillWomen [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 06:18 stayntrippy420 Please Help IDK what to do

Ive known this girl for as long as I can remember I met her in kindergarten. She has been one of my best friends for a while but I would say when we started hanging out a lot during junior year in high school that's when we started becoming closer and would hang a lot. We are both 18 year old seniors. We kind of drifted ways after middle school, but then we started talking again during junior year (we go to the same school too). Recently though, like the past few months I think im falling in love with her and I have no clue what to do in this situation. I know its the best thing to tell her but I can't lose one of my best friends but maybe its better....... Every time we drink together, we always become super touchy and she gets flirty but im pretty sure alcohol makes her horny haha. Her parents are like convinced we are dating are about too because like 2 weeks ago, her parents walked in to her on me because we were sharing the same blanket cause we were freezing but we were both really fucked up. This drunken incidents have confused me so much I have no idea what to do I can't lose her. This has been so confusing for me this whole situation im so exhausted I need help. I know I truly have feelings for her but I have no idea if she does. I use to only think of her as a friend until like 2-3 months ago why did this happen?? Oh and btw Idk if this matters but we are both single and we have both never been in a relationship .
submitted by stayntrippy420 to dating [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 02:55 stayntrippy420 Idk what to do Please help

Ive known this girl for as long as I can remember I met her in kindergarten. She has been one of my best friends for a while but I would say when we started hanging out a lot during junior year in high school that's when we started becoming closer and would hang a lot. We are both 18 year old seniors. We kind of drifted ways after middle school, but then we started talking again during junior year (we go to the same school too). Recently though, like the past few months I think im falling in love with her and I have no clue what to do in this situation. I know its the best thing to tell her but I can't lose one of my best friends but maybe its better....... Every time we drink together, we always become super touchy and she gets flirty but im pretty sure alcohol makes her horny haha. Her parents are like convinced we are dating are about too because like 2 weeks ago, her parents walked in to her on me because we were sharing the same blanket cause we were freezing but we were both really fucked up. This drunken incidents have confused me so much I have no idea what to do I can't lose her. This has been so confusing for me this whole situation im so exhausted I need help. I know I truly have feelings for her but I have no idea if she does. I use to only think of her as a friend until like 2-3 months ago why did this happen?? Oh and btw Idk if this matters but we are both single and we have both never been in a relationship .
submitted by stayntrippy420 to Advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 00:12 FirstBreath1 Not Fade Away, or, That One Small Town in America Where The People Are Dying to Leave

Life moves differently in the streets of a dying industrial town. It's the kind of thing you really need to experience first hand. Everything is a little bit darker. Everything is a little bit colder. Outside of the empty apartments, outside the locals who can’t afford to pay for them, and outside abject poverty evident inside every boarded up window on the block, there is something else buried here, a sinister secret, sitting right underneath the surface of cracked concrete and decaying infrastructure:
A reason for extinction.
There is no other way to tell this story than to start from the beginning. I’ll apologize for that in advance.
I left home at the tender age of eighteen. First for college, then for my first big paying job in the city. My mother didn’t like it very much. That’s actually an understatement. My mother made her thoughts on the subject very well known. We were a small family. My father passed when I was two. I never met my grandparents. I didn’t have any siblings, or cousins, or aunts, or uncles, and so we were alone in the world. Just me and her. And I left.
Truth be told, I always planned on leaving.
I guess I just got used to the feeling that we were big fish in a shrinking pond. Blanco used to be a great place. Back before the world knew the consequences of coal, back when we basically washed our feet with the shit, the money didn’t just trickle down to town, it came in like a waterfall. Kids wore designer clothes. Parents drove beamers, and Lexuses, and all the expensive shit you see even nowadays on TV. Lawns were maintained to a T. State funding reached record levels in the eighties, and people were living good, too good in some cases, as evidenced by the ensuing lawsuits.
Mom used to say the first shoe dropped in ‘91. Drugs. Then embezzlement. Then corruption, then corporate malfeasance, then a thousand other things of which I couldn’t be bothered to understand or learn the names. Such was the sinking of the ship. The last coal mine closed in ‘92. The Shopping Mall out on the highway shuttered in ‘96. The Mom and Pop shops couldn’t keep up with corporate competition, so most of these went with the millennium, and then the corporations sunk sometime after. The locals tried to make a comeback. But it wasn’t the same.
In Blanco, you’ll actually hear this a lot, it’s never as good as it used to be. So it goes.
I don’t know when the people first started to leave. I think of it now as more like a retreating wave than an avalanche. But by the time my class reached Senior year, there were six total students in my grade, and we had only one teacher. Most of the time we just went to her house for lessons.
My mom understood why I left for college. The opportunities weren’t exactly enticing. She didn’t like my choice - but she respected it - and yet I struggled with her reasons to stay. I asked her to come with me, somewhere, anywhere, half a hundred times, throughout my childhood and into adulthood. But her response would always be the same.
“That’s not homs. Home is the place you feel closest to the ones you love.”
And it took me a good chunk of my childhood to understand that line. My mom’s entire life was spent in Blanco. She was born there. She grew up there. She met my dad there, she married my dad there, she buried my dad there, she had me there, and she planned to die there, happy as a clam, rattling through her shitty one bedroom apartment, subsisting off delayed disability checks and stale bread for an eternity. That was the way she wanted it to be.
“Even the street signs make you feel closer to them.”
Mom used to say that she could see a bench, like the ones they keep in front of our only grocery store, and remember a decades old conversation with her Mom about getting married. She could see a park and remember where she learned how to ride a bike. My mother lived off these memories. They fed her well being. They got her through the struggles, sometimes, and it took me a while to realize she would never feel whole without them.
And so I left. And she stayed. And we lived happily ever after in this dynamic. After college, I moved two states away, and struggled through a burgeoning writing career. I struggled through a failed dating life. But no matter where my particularly pitiful struggles took me, I always kept a plan in place, to visit my mother the second Friday of every month, plus holidays, no exceptions. I stayed true to that promise for many years.
It was during one of these final visits when the first secret came to light.
We were in the kitchen at the time. Mom couldn’t let a soul sit at her table without pouring them a cup of tea. And so she was bustling back and forth, back and forth, muttering to herself in a hurry when she accidentally dropped a glass on the floor and it shattered spectacularly. She let out a cursing spree bad enough for me to ask what was wrong.
She tried to hide it. But she looked terrified.
She was really cool about it nonetheless. She sat down and held my arm. She looked me in the eyes. She even spoke in her grownup voice, a relic from my rebellious years, which definitely made my heart skip a beat.
“I did something bad.”
I laughed. Usually it was the other way around. I used to be the one doing the bad things, I said, but she didn’t laugh with me.
“I followed someone.”
My expression must have changed. So did hers. She looked worried. Mostly worried about my reaction.
“I followed someone and he saw me.”
“Slow down,” I must have muttered. “Who did you follow?”
“A man.”
“What man?”
“Does it matter?”
“Does to some people.”
She grimaced. She was tight lipped. She knew I would judge her, so she wanted to hold back the bad details, in a patronizing way, to ‘protect me”, like she did when I was a kid, but I groaned, and she eventually gave in. Her confession came out like a faucet at full steam.
“I saw him in the store. Markoff’s. Last fucking department store left. You know the one, on LaBrea, anyway… I’m in Markoffs, I’m trying to find a reasonable coat, and this guy comes in with this fancy suit and funny colored hair… He was very distinct looking, you know, the type of face that makes an impression. And I still didn’t recognize him.”
I grunted.
“So?”
“So what?”
“You recognize every single person that comes into town?”
I looked out the window judgmentally and noticed a fresh foreclosure sign. I looked back at her, and she shrugged, as if to say, ‘Yeah, dumbass. Nobody lives here.’
“Fair. Continue.”
My mother grinned.
“So I went and talked to the checkout girl… Linda.... Bob’s daughter…. she was friends with that girl you used to go with in high school. Anywho Linda doesn’t recognize him either. So now I’m interested. I follow him over to Esther’s. I follow him over to the hardware store. Each store he goes into, this guy gets more stuff. He must have spent hundreds of dollars. I was intrigued. Who the hell around here has that kinda cash to blow on knick knacks? On hiking gear and candy and all this other nonsense? I had to know where he lived. I had to know if he was a local. So I followed him. For an hour or more… I followed him... I was right behind him in the car.”
“Did he see you?”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
“Let me finish. So we just leave Lavola’s. The whole time, I was sneaky, hiding places, never getting too close. But at the end, it was getting dark, and he took me down Whippoorwill.”
“By the mines?”
“By the mines.”
I shuddered at the thought of my mom tracking down a stranger at dusk.
“There’s a lot of hills over there. I could keep the car 100 yards back and still see him if the angles were right. I parked under one of them and just sort of watched. I had my bird binoculars in the back. Lucky, I guess.”
“And?”
“He parked. He never looked over his shoulder. He never gave any indication that he saw me at all. So I’m still watching. He goes into his truck and he pulls out some gear. Ropes and stuff. Bags of some other stuff. He lays it down. And then he starts digging.”
“Huh?”
“You hear me. He started digging. For about ten minutes. Digging, digging, digging. Nobody with him. No light on his spot. Just digging. Then he took these… giant bags…. and he dropped them in his hole.”
“Weird.”
“Really weird. But the next part is even weirder. I bumped my knee on the steering wheel. The damn horn chirps, but only a little bit.”
“Great.”
“All of the sudden he stands still. You know how a deer looks if you get too close? Same thing. He turned his head around, like, all the way around. And he spots me.”
“Great.”
“The neck thing freaked me out. But I’m mostly thinking what you’re thinking. How embarrassing. Sure this guy is a little peculiar, but he’s probably a nephew or cousin of somebody in town, and I’ve made a huge fool of myself by following him. I turn the keys in the engine, throw it in drive, and get ready to leave. I turn back and he’s coming towards me.”
“No…”
“But honey when I saw he was ‘coming towards me…’ he wasn’t walking. He wasn’t approaching cautiously to check me out. He was running. Running as fast as he could, actually, but in the most strange way.”
“How?”
“On all fours.”
“What?”
“He was running on all fours.”
I took a moment to process.
“Like a dog?”
“Like a dog.”
I couldn’t come up with anything smart to say. My mother is not the type to exaggerate. If she said the man ran like a dog, the man ran like a dog.
“So then what?”
“I hit the gas and came home.”
“Did he follow you?
“I didn’t think so.”
“You didn’t think?” I shouted. “What does that mean?”
My mother took a sip of her tea and looked me dead in the eye.
“He showed up here last night.”
“I don’t understand, how could he…”
“He wanted to hurt me, Patty, he chased me... ”
My heart rate accelerated.
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“He must have ran like that for miles.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
She stared at me blankly.
“There wasn’t enough time. He tried to break in through the front door. I shot him in the forehead with the gun your father kept under the kitchen sink.”
\I couldn’t believe a word of it. My mom barely knew how to hold a gun.
“I don’t understand...”
She let out the rest like an exorcism.
“I put the body in the basement.”
She gasped for breath in between sobs.
“And I knew you were coming over, every second Friday, like you promised, good boy, such a good boy.”
She gagged like she might puke.
“And so I waited, and I wanted to call somebody else but I…”
She held her cup like a crutch.
“I heard the door close before you got here.”
She looked terrified.
“And he’s gone, Patty, I checked.”
Absolutely petrified.
“But what if he comes back?”
And I believed her.
submitted by FirstBreath1 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 20:46 sarahg165 should I settle? I dont know if i can find better.

So ive(F17) have been dating my boyfriend(M17) for a year and 4 months. Its the longest relationship ive had, and I never expected it to last this long.
We have been friends off and on for like 4 years, we met through our friend group from middle school, and actually we're all still friends now that its senior year. one reason I dont want to break up is that weve known eachother so long, and hes put up with me for so long even though hes seen everything wrong with me (i have a lot of things wrong w me i dont need to go into detail tho) and he doesnt plan on breaking up with me.... even after me being cold and stuff he says he hasnt lost feelings for me. he talks about the future and ive seen things saved on his phone that are like "how to stay with your girlfriend through college" so...
ive been unhappy for a while though, our relationship was never perfect and there have been many things that ive seen and wanted to break up with him for. some are: (he dated me 1 month after he broke up with his ex so i felt like a rebound, sex doesnt always feel mutual, he took me to hooters on valentine's day, ive never gotten flowers and hes only gotten me a gift on my birthday, hes cocky and loud around people but sweet and quieter around only me, when we argue he doesnt care about my feelings and gets mad at me over the smallest things) ive planned to break up with him so many times, but i just CANT, because i still love him and a part of me doesnt want to leave.
I know its bad to list things but Now i feel like maybe i shouldnt be upset about all those things.... but i feel like since hes willing to stay with me i shouldnt leave....One reason is because ive heard almost every girl say that shes been ghosted by a guy, a guy breaks up with her out of the blue, or s guy cheats on her even if he seemed to love her.
ive never had any of those things happen to me, and i dont think i would react well if that did happen to be.... i have abandonment issues and i get attached to people whether theyre good or bad for me... ex: my boyfriend
(ive had one other boyfriend, 2 years ago, which was like the perfect relationship ever. he was my first love, but i got overwhelmed by him liking me too much. i still am mad at myself to this day because i broke up with him and broke his heart. so i feel like i dont deserve anything better than my current relationship.)
this sounds so mean that im considering this but its so hard because i obviously still love him im just not that happy.... anyways, i feel like i should just stay with my boyfriend because of the fact hes willing to stay with me, and hes not thatttt bad, i feel like i wont be able to get anyone better. at times i do want to be single and talk to other people, but i probably wont have another long term relationship... i dont know. i would also be so guilty and beat myself up because i wouldnt know if i made the right choice. im so scared of making the wrong choice and ending up more depressed than i already am.
submitted by sarahg165 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 20:18 PikachurinUseSynapse Take your own path, at your own rate.

If you ever lose confidence you are going to go do/be what you want to in life, here's a personal story to never quit no matter how hard it gets.
I went to a top tier undergraduate school in the US for pre medical degrees. I always wanted to go into science as a pediatrician or a virus researcher because my grampa was considered one of the best pediatric doctors in his state and he was my role model (RIP). Halfway through my first year, I dated a girl who told me I was never going to get into medical or grad school. I dumped her, and a year later was getting advised for my class schedule. My advisor for my major (biochemistry and molecular biology) told me I was never going to get into medical or grad school. Come my third year, and I just barely make it through because of hard times on mental health getting worse. My senior year, I go to a professor, Prof. M, for help on how to go about my future in medicine or grad school. She says you are not going to get into grad school or medical school with your GPA right now, BUT you can go for a master's program that gets you ready to do med/grad school. So, I apply to 5 different schools, and found one program that is #12 in the US, and another that is #1 in Texas and is easy to get into, apply to them, and wait. My senior year I was determined to get the best GPA I could and got help from her, and other professors. Some of them thought I wasn't going to be able to make it, but three professors pushed me to do better every single time they saw me. Prof. M, Prof. D, and Prof. B. My last semester, I was taking a course in virology and fell back in love with viruses. At the end of the semester, I was derailed after being rejected from the #1 supposedly easy master's program, and got really depressed. Prof. D said not to worry about it as I still have other applications out. I then got an interview in a pathology/immunology program that is #12 in the US, and got accepted. Now, I am doing world class research on COVID19 while being a master's student. And, my professors and research head said they would help me get into the PhD program in virology in my school (#2 in the nation) after I finish my masters!
I put the reputation of the schools and programs to show y'all, even if your GPA is trash, show how hard you are working to your professors or boss by asking questions, going to study sessions, etc. Then, when it comes time to get recomendation letters, the school or job will look more favorably on someone with really good rec letters telling how hard you work and try to improve yourself over someone with a perfect gpa and not great rec letters. Also, my dad interviews people a LOT for his job, and he says he doesn't generally hire people with a perfect gpa and that lack extra curricular activities because it is as if they have not had to overcome any obstacles to be where they are (if the interview is not average).
Morals of the story... 1 Always try even if nobody believes in you. 2 One person, or a couple of people can be the difference between giving up, and fighting on, so be that person. 3 You find your own way to succeed at your own pace, and do not judge yourself and your progression based off others.
submitted by PikachurinUseSynapse to motivation [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 18:41 idkagoodun_beep_boop Dating...not dating. Have a not a gf...gf

Hewoo. Im a divorced father with 3 children. Youngest is in middle school, another in his senior year, oldest finished HS and moved out recently. I have custody of the kids and have been single for quite awhile.
Normally I would have a woman express interest in me but I would basically tell them I don't have time for a relationship. They were cool about it and left me alone.
But then it happened. A little back story. Im a manager of ~300 people. One of them got c-19 so I had to go collect contact tracing logs, etc. I had to consult with a nurse who works in the building on who else would have to quarantine for 14 days, bla bla bla.
So I talk to her on the phone and she says she needs to see the area the person worked in. I told her I'd meet her at a Cafe in the building (its shut down of course) just because it's confusing how to get to the area I work. Im just standing there, leaned up against a wall and she walks up. She's dressed super frumpy. Big sweater, loose fitting pants, even had her hair done up in a way where it kinda hid her face a bit. She's very short (5'2") which I usually don't go for, im attracted to women around 5'8" usually.
Its like cupid shot me, I'm not kidding. I felt like we were two magnets. Just this incredible, visceral feeling of attraction. I was staring at her. Really looking into her eyes. She was stone faced and I couldn't tell what was going on in her head. She took care of business and went back to her office.
So then i shoot her an IM through the work computer and said there was a mistake on one of the contact tracing forms (there really was, wasn't making it up) and she could have just made the correction herself but said she was coming back down to see me. At that point, I was like, "ok, i think she felt that too."
I went back out to meet her at the Cafe and I was sweating. My hands were shaking too. I got so nervous I had to pee so I ran to the bathroom really quick. Came back and she was there.
I can't remember exactly what we talked about. I gave her my personal cell number in case she needed to contact me about the c-19 stuff. She went back to her office and me to mine. She IM'd me 20 minutes later and gave me her personal cell number in case I had questions about the c-19 case.
I left work later on, 15 minutes after leaving she texted me. We went back and forth texting all night. Then she texted me and asked if I was ok with her swinging by at 5am before going into work. My daughter was visiting her mom for the summer. I went and gave my boys money and told them to go somewhere else until tomorrow, lol.
She came over. Found out she wears frumpy clothes at work because she's hot and hates guys staring at her. Im not super judgy about body type, but ill admit a big booty is just my thing. I wasn't disappointed. We had the most incredible sex. It was earth shattering and it was like we've been together for years. As a matter of fact, I feel like i know her from somewhere. I can't explain it correctly, but its like I know her somehow.
Anyways, I told her right off the bat I don't do relationships and I don't want anything long term and im busy with my kids and I don't go out on dates and I absolutely don't believe in love. And she just laughed at me.
So I guess we're dating? I told her she can be my gf maybe, that I haven't decided yet and...she laughed at me. She bought a bigger shower rack thingy and put it in my shower. She's taken over two dresser drawers and a portion of my closet. The kids love her and are pressuring me to have her come over more. When we see each other, we're having a ton of sex. And its so good im kinda just aweeeeeee!!! (if that makes any sense)
I normally have control over everything and now I feel like im floating and falling at the same time. What should I do?
submitted by idkagoodun_beep_boop to dating [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 13:10 Hanurdock Unordinary Street

Chapter 2: Lester Maplin, Senior
A man stands alone on his balcony, watching the sky darken and the first smattering of stars twinkling away, winking at him mischievously from afar. He is drinking a tumbler of Brandy, on the rocks and sitting on a deckchair. He seems content, as if the world were not full of problems and passions. However, he is a man with a mission. His name? Maplin, Lester. Senior.
At fifty years of age, Lester is evaluating his life. He has a good run so far, having a decent childhood on what was once referred to as The King’s Road. He had many friends when growing up and they used to play on the streets often, sometimes getting into trouble as they played imaginary situations from their favourite cartoons.
The whole tribe of young boys were convinced they had found the gateway to Narnia in freshly snow-covered winters where they would gather around a single lamp-post at the end of a small road, a thicket with brambles and bushes, owned by the council and forever enchanting the local lads. They would wait for the emergence of magical beings and pretend that they were in Narnia and having all sorts of adventures.
Then there was that small road that led to no-where. That dead-end that culminated overlooking the motorway and nothing more.
“There’s an electricity generator down there.” His father had grumbled often. “All roads lead somewhere, Lester. Maybe there used to be a road down there leading down to the motorway. All roads are designed with purpose. Even if you can’t see the purpose.”
Lester did not believe his father’s explanation. There was more to that enchanting little road than he could put into words, and the lads frequently hung out by the cemetery walls, like little ghouls, drinking Ribena and watching people getting married in the local church.
The Road To Nowhere had a steep curve in it, which the boys rarely bothered to visit. Overlooking the motorway, the end had a footpath that led down to a group of bus shelters on a busy island. It was a frenetic place but the view of fireworks over the city was joyous on that sharp incline of footpath and they would sit there every November, watching displays all over and eating party food gathered out before them like a grand feast.
When he got older, Lester moved away from the road and found a new home in a nearby village. He worked as a reporter, with his short mop of messy dark hair continually tumbling into his eyes as he interviewed famous people, eventually earning him the nickname Hair Flip Dick. He wasn’t a pleasant person, and he was ruthless when interviewing or interrogating a person of interest.
The striking green eyes hid a wealth of intelligence and a cantankerous nature as Lester (AKA Hair Flip Dick) pursued the rich, wealthy and famous as a daily habit.
When he was twenty-five and newly dating Elaine, he had returned home to see his parents and they had welcomed her with open arms. As the parents talked with Elaine, he went for a walk and visited that strange road that bought memories flooding back from his youth.
Three cars were backed up along the Road to Nowhere and Lester thought this amusing. Why were they there at all? Were the spaces along the church grounds all full? Lester looked at the cars parked and realised there were free spaces all along the road. What an odd situation, indeed. Lester chuckled, remembering similar situations when he was a lad, shouting to the cars passing after taking a heavy swig of Ribena.
“Hey, man! There ain’t nothing down there!”
Lester’s friends all laughing away and Lester almost falling over the cemetery wall backwards because he lost his balance with all the mirth.
“Damn spiders grow large on this frikkin wall.” Larry muttered as he saw a giant arachnid saunter on by with a shiver.
“Let it be.” Lester said, gently cupping the creature in his hands, and lifting it over to the other side of the wall so it didn’t need to crawl over his lap. “It’s just a spider.”
It looked like a house spider. The slightly trembling critter was just a little animal, and Lester felt a pang of empathy for the wee beasty. It was a beautiful thing, really. Eight amazingly thick black furry legs and eyes. It had six eyes and seemed to be watching the group of lads warily.
“No such thing as “just” a spider.” Larry grumbled, watching as the spider ambled on and finally, disappeared out of sight from the boys.
Now, on his walk he remembered that day with fond memories. Walking down the Dead-End, he felt drawn to the vehicles waiting by the side of the road. At first he thought this was some sort of lover’s lane, but the people inside were not kissing. Merely waiting. Infinitely patient.
Knocking on one of the car windows, Lester heard the window mechanics as the glass rolled down and the occupant looked up into his face.
“Can I help you, son?” The man asked. And what a strange man he was. A small man with a tiny briefcase beside him on the passenger seat. He must have dwarfism, but there was something about the brightness of his eyes as he stared into Lester’s eyes that made his heart quicken.
“I used to live around here.” Lester said casually.
“How nice for you. If you don’t mind…” The man begin to roll the window back up.
“Wait! Why here?” Lester spluttered and the man stopped closing the window.
“Can you be more specific?” The man asked dryly.
“Why park here? There are loads of spaces up by the church. You’re going to get in each other’s way if you keep building up on this road.” Lester asked.
“Why not?” The man seemed bored. “Is there an unwritten rule about no parking along this road? Do I need a permit? Are you the permit police?”
Lester stifled a laugh and the man crooked his lips in a side smile. “No, it just doesn’t make much sense. That’s all. If you want to drive out of here, you’ll find it difficult. Not the best place to park. You know?”
“Thank you for such an astute observation. Oh, would you look at that. An incoming call.” The man reached for his phone and placed it to his right ear. “It was nice meeting you.” The window rolled back up and Lester stood back in a daze.
Walking back to the cemetery and the church, Lester turned around and walked quickly back to the corner intending to knock on that man’s window again and get some answers.
However, as he rounded the corner he was met with a shocking surprise.
The three cars were all gone.
Convinced he hadn’t seen them drive past him on the walk back, Lester felt an unnerving thrill build deeply in his gut. As a reporter, he could almost smell a story in the air and this was the story of his lifetime, he was sure of it.
Sniffing around the bushes and looking out over the motorway, Lester greeted a rambler walking up the footpath with a cheery wave.
“Hey, mate. Do you know what this road is used for?” Lester asked as the rambler joined him and also looked out over the motorway.
“Haven’t a clue, dude. Nice climb though.”
“That’s a power generator over there though, isn’t it? I mean, it looks like a generator of some sort.” Lester inquired.
“Not sure. It’s just always been there. Thought it was some water treatment centre. Could be a generator.” Rambler shook his head and continued walking on.
Grumbling to himself, Lester walked back to his parents house and joined in the conversation for a couple of hours before he excused both himself and Elaine, driving them home in silence. Until Elaine spoke up and it was obvious she was upset with him.
“Well. That was rude.” Elaine observed. “We didn’t need to go quite so soon.”
“I don’t feel well.” Lester admitted. A nasty headache was flaring up, it might even be a migraine. He wasn’t sure but he could see white spots in front of his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Elaine asked at once.
“A headache, love. My head is splitting.” Lester moaned.
“Couldn’t you have taken some pills and waited to see if it lifted?” Elaine asked, gently.
“I guess so.” Lester admitted.
“We don’t see your parents as often as I would like. Next time, you are staying with me instead of going for a walk to goodness-knows-where and we are all talking. Like a family should. Okay?”
Lester nodded, gripping the steering wheel firmly and biting his lip to stop himself from answering back.
As soon as he got home, he locked himself within his home office and did a little research on the Road to Nowhere. Back in the olden days, the road had been a dirt track and the footpath was a continuation of the track that had once been. It seemed legitimate.
The whole area had ties with royalty and nobility, even down to the road names. Switching off his computer, Lester sighed. The beginning of a headache was working it’s way inside his brain like a wriggling worm and he could not stare at the computer screen any longer.
Now, fifty years young and a father to three, Lester sitting on his balcony with a Brandy and watching the stars emerge, he still wondered about the Road to Nowhere.
He believed he had let the whole thing drop too easily and curiosity was eating him up as the days passed along. The explanation was plausible but, being a reporter, you had to look beyond the ordinary to find extraordinary truths.
In his heart, Lester truly believed something strange was going on there. He always had. It was like a mark burned into his soul from when he was a boy. A mark that could not be removed by mundane explanations and royal connections.
A road that didn’t lead anywhere. A road with no houses dotted along it. A road that had remained coveted in his heart until this day.
He needed answers. Proper answers. Those answers were not to be found in his computer or in a library finding old newspaper articles. The answers lay in those who used the road, maybe even daily. He needed to find out what those people were doing down there, maybe even uncover a drug ring. Or something else illegal going on in that Dead-End place.
Deeper in his heart, he knew there was no drug ring. He knew something magical lay before him and he just had to uncover it and find the truth.
Turning fifty was the catalyst to finding answers. Turning half a century was an awakening, a terrifying and brutal realisation that he was much older than he’d ever thought he’d be. As a lad, he had never wondered about growing older but as the days passed by and the years began to quicken, Lester began to sense a new urgency building.
He was fit. He had a curious and clever brain. If anyone could uncover the mystery of the Road to Nowhere, it was him. He had been training for it his whole life in the way he approached and talked to people, accepting no bullcrap and finding the truth beneath many layers. He just needed to make this his priority, his focus from this moment onward.
No more interviews. No more generalised reporting.
This was it. He was going to solve the mystery once and for all.
Relieved now the decision was made, Lester continued to drink his Brandy and watch the starts as he fell into an uneasy half-sleep, murmuring in his slumber until his wife found him, woke him up and insisted he go to bed instead of sleeping on the balcony like a beast in the night.

#Dale #Fantasy #Magic #Mazoria #Portals #Setaclys #UnordinaryStreet #Hannurdock #GAPrice
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2020.09.26 08:50 LupinePariah An Introspective Opinion

I've spoken about this on Twitter a little but I wanted to go a little more in-depth.
Following my completion of this game I couldn't help but notice the negativity in the press and I've come to realise just how present a problematic factor there is: privilege. I suppose that's what happens when you hire pretty people, you encounter those who haven't really had to tsruggle in the way others have, who haven't known what it's like to be on the outside and to have an outside perspective. That's what this game has. Similarly, I'm starting to think that "heavy-handed" is a shorthand for "this takes me out of my comfort zone and makes me aware of things that are making me distinctly uncomfortable."
I'll come clean with my outside perspective: I have autism. I grew up through the '70s when things weren't quite as progressive as they are today, the common usage of the r-word, commonplace ostracising, and easy abuse were the zeitgeist when it came to us. I mean, who cares, right? It's not like an r-word is going to complain or tell anyone. Sure, things are better today but not by much. The Judge Rotenberg Center has only recently been halted from using electroshock torture and even then they haven't stopped it fully, they do what they think they can get away with. The world is better than the one I knew, but not by much.
There's something about autism. I mean, it's the social programming or lack thereof. That's the thing. As an autist, I navigate through life via affective empathy. I feel what other people are feeling but it takes me time to figure it out. I want to, of course. Just because I can't immediately plumb the depths of why I feel validated or thoroughly like shit without some solid introspection doesn't mean that I don't want to. It's the opposite. I'm always trying to learn what different emotions mean.
I've noticed that I care way more than neurotypicals on average, too. I mean, sure, if a bad thing happens a neurotypical will cup their hand over their mouth but it seems to be forgotten just five minutes later. It haunts me. It all does. I keep parsing it, recollecting, colleralating, examining, cross-referencing, trying to find some meaning in all of it. I parse this through my emotions too. I have heard that this is true of introverts to an extent and from what I've heard about the difference between the longer versus shorter processing pathways it's likely true. I suppose they feel like a halfway house. The process longer, but they don't get hung up on things like us.
Sometimes we can look like a machine that's "hung" because of how preoccupied we are, this is something that neurotypicals don't really understand, always expecting immediate responses and attention due to... I don't know, really. I sometimes wonder if it's narcissism to a degree due to how they tend to love themselves to such a degree, how they fetishise the similar and the familiar, not ever realising how pathological a hierarchical state such as normalcy is. I mean, to have normal, you've also got to have abnormal. That's the way of it, it's a dualism. So what of those who're relegated to being abnormal?
What of those who want to be, or don't? Do we consider those who'd rather their diversity be accepted rather than just fetishising over the small similarities as neurotypicals want to? We know that in nature, diversity is necessary. Without genetic diversity, a species will soon become very extinct. This is why ethnic supremacy is a baffling concept. It's like a voluntary extinction movement in a way, it might not happen immediately but it is inevitable. I don't understand the desire to expediate the devaluation of life into entropy but I'm not neurotypical.
I acknowledge that.
Like I said, things are better today but everyone knows when you're autistic. They can tell. It's the lack of social programming I spoke of. Neurotypicals know what to say, do, or think. Often, it's told to them by influencers who're charismatic enough to lead them, thoughts are put in their head that they never really seem to question, they just obey them. To me, neurotypicals seem much more like machines than autistic people do because they follow their programming only rarely ever stopping to ask whether this is right, or just, or kind.
This is something we see in Detroit: Become Human with police brutality. The police are robots, they're just following their social programming and doing what was put in their heads without ever really questioning it. They just "know" that all that's in their head is right, that's what they belive anyway, and they never doubt that. Sometimes I think that neurotypicals don't have invasive thoughts that they struggle against, I'm given to wonder if invasive thoughts are a recognisable marker of neurodiversity since they're thoughts that you question, struggle against, and eventually have to learn to deny.
tt's possible, of course, that given hardship neurotypicals can become like neurodiverse people. They've been hurt so much they have to question and be introspective.
Then again... A while ago, I witnessed a campaign where an Alt-Right splinter group created a bunch of fake accounts, and using those mixed with hacked real accounts went after trans people posing as Otherkin. They bullied them, harassed and haranged them, abused them. It was wrong, but it wasn't Otherkin people doing that, that much was obvious to anyone who was an Otherkin, the language, the behaviour, it was all wrong. I mean, besides, there's a lot of crossover with states like that and autism. I think most Otherkin would recognise the inherent harm in bullying, they just wouldn't do it. And we tried to tell them that.
It didn't work. The thing is is that the Alt-Right had put this idea in their head that Otherkin were a threat to their normalcy, their safe, protective blanket that allowed them to blend in and have their thoughts given to them by those above them on the social hierarchy. We didn't do that. So they went after Otherkin people mercilessly... the online bullying and harassment by trans people was untenable. They sought to invalidate and deny the existence of species dysphoria at every turn since they thought they'd been wronged by a troll group and the majority of them?
They didn't question it, did they? They just obeyed. The programming was there adn they obeyed it. This is neurotypical behaviour as I've observed it at its most basic, tribal, and primal. It's very animalistic. Chimps and ladders, if you're familiar with that social experiment. Yes, it isn't a real experiment—to my knowledge—but it is a social experiment. The purpose of the experiment is to have one wonder about why they obey things without questioning them. There are very many experiments—social and otherwise—that prove that neurotypicals often do just obey.
I mean, look at Detroit: Become Human. I look at most of the reviews and I don't find a solid argument against them. Even with community figures like Jim Sterling whom I would've expected to know better. Still, he's neurotypical, and his programming is to rag on David Cage. That's what his programming dictates to him so that's what he does, which is incredibly disappointing. I had thought better of him and I was hurt to learn otherwise. That's what I keep learning though, again and again. Neurotypicals obey. They have their programming and they obey.
Others might obey programming too, they do it out of fear, anxiety, remorse, manipulation, or for any other number of reasons and they do so until they crack. Something just breaks within them and they realise that this isn't fair, it isn't right, it isn't just, it isn't kind. And they break. Then the programming is gone. You're on the outside then, you're looking in with a completely alien, different perspective and you can't go back. Normalcy is a warm safety blanket, but once you remove it you become a demon in the dreams of others. There's no going back from that, more than that, there's no desire to back to just sleeepwalking through life like that. Just following toxic programming without ever stopping to ask why, to question, to be introspective and really examine and try to arrive at a kinder state of existence. Normalcy isn't kind, it's inherently pathological. Normalcy is a delusion shared to uphold a power hierachy. Since what's more important to the average person than a power hiearchy and their place within it?
I brought up Otherkin. I am too. I went through over a solid decade of abuse and I have the scars and disfigurement to prove it. I was raped, beaten, tortured, locked up and denied food and water, all because I'm not like neurotypicals and because they thought they could get away with it. They thought it would be okay, that I'm... Well, you can guess what they thought, I'm too stupid to even know better, to care about what was happening to me. I was just a subhuman thing. A thing.
That was my point of relation with this game. I understand that there are many, this is just mine. I mean, like I said, anyone who's gotten to this point where they can't just be normal, where they can't just obey social programming, where they have to be on the outside? There's lots. And this account is just mine and mine alone, but there are millions of others out there who'd have their own stories to tell and I'm sure that many are even more fraught than my own.
The premiere autism forum on the Internet is called Wrong Planet because we're forced to have this perspective—that we're on the outside, looking in, trying to figure out humanity as aliens. This is how I've always felt. Having witnessed the cruetly of humans and the lengths they'd go to to just obey their programming? I can't identify as human anymore. I don't want to. I mean, if you'd lived a life like this I don't know how you could? I can't worship humans.
I don't really have Picard's perspective on humanity. I don't get that reverent self-worship for the species as though it were the most perfect thing in existence.
This perspective.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xgvEusIvDg
I don't get that. I don't see that. I see cruel robots on Murderworld and they terrify me. It's not so bad though, I mean... The Murderworld robots won't go psycho and slaughter you, just so long as you pretend to be like them, so long as you hold up the pretense of having their programming. The moment you don't, though? Their programming edicts demand that such anomalies be dealt with in the most harsh way possible. So you learn. You learn to try to act like them just to fit in. I've spent most of my life in isolation rather than having to do that too much.
It makes me feel sick.
So I'm an Otherkin. It was a decision I arrived at for a number of reasons. I was raised primarily by the kindness of dogs, they looked after me where humans wouldn't and I imprinted upon them, I learned many behaviours from them that I still have to be careful not to exhibit around any neurotypicals. They're always there though. Thus, canine is what I relate to more than human, I see more kindness there. Don't you? I think it's self evident. Similarly, I created a tulpa when I was young to keep me sane. I didn't have that descriptor for it then but he's stayed with ever since. He's a dragon. I always liked dragons.
I like intelligent dragons though, thoughtful, considerate, able to reason. I've always seen that there's something to them that upsets many neurotypicals. I don't know whether it's the horrifying notion of something more intelligent than a human or whether it's just that a being of reason is contrary to toxic Murderbot power fantasies. I mean, I see this anxiety caused by dragons as the reason that so many were lobotomised and amputated within fiction. If you take away both their mind and hands, they can no longer reason or express themselves, you've turned them into whatever war machine a neurotypical needs to get their jollies.
I mean, the height of my feelings about this was exemplified by Skyrim. I saw these dragons just writhing around on their bellies because they didn't have forelimbs to hold themselves up. They looked more like amputated dogs I'd seen at vets than birds or bats. I've been to bat sanctuaries, I used to occasionally volunteer at one where the people seemed just as autistic as I am. Well, that or some other kind of neurodiverse, perhaps even just introverted as I accept there's some crossover there.
The point is though is that on the one hand we have something like Draco from Dragonheart, the kind of dragon that always has to die for whatever reason, usually as the last dragon for humans to feel sort of bad about for a bit then better because—well hey—they survived whereas the dragons didn't. On the other, you have war machines who're commonplace, cattle lining up ready to be murdered by whatever clownsuit-waring Gamer warrior is up next. It's not a good look.
That's what I think when I look at a lot about humanity: It's not a good look.
Sure, you have people who are kind and do things to help those who aren't like them but they probably aren't very neurotypical in the first place. If they are, then it's only by a margin as they've had their programming broken, the programming that forces them to be selfish and to consider their own tribe first at the expense of all others. I don't think kindness is very neurotypical.
I'm just going to be self-indulgent here with a point that came up on Twitter and how appalled I was to be right. I mean, there was some perverse amusement in it to be sure but for the most part it was just disgust.
I postulated a social experiment. It involves a dragon. It often does with me. I like dragons. I mean, the kind that still have their hands and minds anyway, which are very sapient things to have. The first thing that a furry character gets is hands and minds, right? Take those away... Well, I won't dwell on that too much but that's why four-limbed "dragons" exist. Anyway, the point...
Four white men stand at the precipice of a yawning concavity, the tools they carry on their person suggest a multitude of military professions. In the dimly lit depths below the ancient ruins of a long forgotten city can be seen and something large lurking within the long shadows cast within. Rising out of the darkness is a scaly head that hisses at the men above, a dragon. What do you see here?
Well, they could either be heroes out to spare the nearby town from a vile plague that's been haunting it and causing them suffering for some amount of time, that's true. It could be. The one that lurks in the depths could be a truly evil creature that feasts on the suffering of mortal men, that much is a given.
Then again, the one that lurks below could simply be a vulnerable mother protecting a clutch of recently laid eggs, a couple having hatched as helpless babies unknowing of the cruelties of this world. Those standing above? They could be freebooters, bandits, vagabonds who'd heard that there was treasure to be had here, all they had to do was slay the beast within.
Now, if the latter is true, what options would this dragon have? I suppose they could try to reason with them, certainly, but how would that go? The dragon is, after all, a dragon. The belief they hold is that dragons speak only trickery and lies, so if this one is offering them all of the wealth within the city below if they would just leave them and their newborns in peace? Well, this is a trick, surely? This dragon is unlike them, it has to be a liar, and it's obviously hoarding something far more valuable it's trying to draw their attention away from.
It has to come down to a fight. Who'd live, who'd die? Who would you support? What would you do if you were there?
The answers I got were abuse over why the heroes were white men. No one actually considered the question, they were just angry that I'd used white people as a contrast to an unfamiliar presence that they might abuse. So they chose to taunt and mock me for it because of course they did, I expected that. I had hoped for better, I always hope for better, I rarely ever see it. Not from neurotypicals anyway. I mean, like I said, neurotypicals terrify me. I suppose, if I were actually anyone I'd be worried for my life. My safety is in that I am not.
I hide in isolation because that way my partner, my dog, and I can enjoy our share of peace. It doesn't stop the neurotypicals from ravaging the world around us though, we're 100 seconds to midnight and that's unlikely to change since the neurotypicals are just doing what they always do, they're following their programming. Just like the cops in Detroit: Become Human, and just like the cops in the recent American protests. The Murderbots of Murderworld. I mean, you're either one of them or you're just as terrified of them and there are so many reasons to be terrified of them. Could be something as simple as the pigmentation of your skin, your gender, or how differently your brain works.
On the topic of dragons, have you read the facsimile edition of The Hobbit? Interesting thing, that. Oh so very interesting. I read it when I was young, I got my hands on the original through my family and I loathed the edited version. Why? Well, in the original, Gollum wasn't evil. There was a game of riddles and Gollum lead Bilbo through the caves and gave him the ring, they parted on good terms. I know this seems impossible to believe but it's what was in the original book. Capitalism changed that, Tolkien decided to appeal to the neurotypicals and because Gollum looked different? Well, he had to be evil. Naturally.
Similar, Smaug wasn't originally evil either. He was very greedy, he was stricken with the same greed sickness that the dwarves themselves had. And Gandalf? Gandalf was a troubling dragon bigot whom no one should've really listened to. In the original book, it seemed like Smaug was one who could've been reasoned with. After the edit? Not so much.
What I find especially interesting is that in the film, even though he used words, he seemed even less rational than in the edited books. What else did he lose? His hands. It felt as though his words were parrot-like mimicry rather than those of a sapient mind and Smaug had been reduced, over time, to become just another mindless war machine. I mean, you need war machines for Murderworld's inhabitants to feel good about murdering. If something isn't a war machine, they're hardly going to feel good about murdering it. And they want to, oh how they want to. I mean, of course, both of those things. They want to feel good and they want to murder.
I... don't really have power fantasies like that. I'm sorry. It's not necessarily a judgement, it's just that I'm tired. Mine are of healing, rescuing, and helping. One of my favourite games was one that received almost as much vitriol from the press as this one—Uru: Ages Beyond Myst. That was a power fantasy for me, I could solve puzzles to help the bahro be free from slavery. I played a chubby, dark-skinned, bespectacled hippie. I enjoyed being that character even though I'm not enamoured with playing as a human so much.
Another interesting experience for me was Fallout 2. A game which could be played with a minimum of fatalities. I liked that. One of the bugbears for me that that left me feeling devastated was that I couldn't sav the intelligent deathclaws, no matter how much I wanted to. I mean, they had a right to exist as much as anyone else. Why not, I ask you? I mean, yes, they're not human but that isn't really a good reason, is it? I don't think it is. I feel nauseated that anyone would... That's exactly what I saw, though. Their loss was celebrated.
I remember when I replayed it at a later date with killap's Fallout Restoration mod. I saved them. There was an ending slide where they planned out a peaceful expansion North, diplomatically, negotiating with other settlements such as Vault City. They used their words. The truth is? I couldn't have been more happy. I related more to them than to any other in the game. Just as I related to Goris. Goris was an intelligent deathclaw who was special to me. You see, the deathclaws had a range of intelligence and Goris—by not being a judgemental monster—found ways to communicate with them all. He was a scholar who loved language and he didn't see diffeerentials in how minds worked as a negative factor. I loved him.
I saved Goris and his friends, I helped to enable their future where they could peacefully co-exist. I was delighted, as you might expect. I tried to talk to Fallout fans about this discovery as I was elated, a happy little puppy dog and... I was met with hostility, so much hostility. You see, it turns out that the intelligent deathclaws aren't very popular with Fallout fans. Why? An egotistical designer by the name of Chris Avellone had written a Fallout Bible. A bible, yes. I found much of what was in it contradicted other sources, it even openly contradicted other developers who had seniority over Chris or whose works he was speaking for that weren't his. I didn't find that very appealing, but they did. Chris was popular and charismatic, you see. Charismatic enough to tell them what and how to think, naturally they obeyed. As neurotypicals do.
I looked into him and found that he had some very worrying attitudes about women. I didn't like him. A decade later it turns out that Chris is in the centre of a sexual harassment scandal where he was getting women drunk to try to have his way with them. You can imagine my surprise.
That's how it is with neurotypicals. They tend not to think or question. They'll often do something really thoughtless and cruel and just wave it away with "I didn't think!" as though that somehow makes it all better, as though that's to be accepted. I mean, unless I'm reading this wrong, it seems almost celebrated amongst neurotypicals to not think. It's a high-five moment.
I've just had a lot of experiences with neurotypicals and none of them good, all of them because they have programming that they rarely ever break free from. Their influencers, their charismatic figures just tell them what to think, they obey. I'm terrified of neurotypicals because you never know what's been put in their head for them to think when you encounter them. You can hope it's not too terrible but then again it might be. I mean, thankfully, we are starting to get influencers who're trying to wield this truth about neurotypicals toward more empathetic ends. It's not just a game for charismatic sociopaths anymore. Still, even though things are improving, you can't know what they've been told to think. You can't tell what their programming is just by looking at them.
I don't know how well I've conveyed my message here but if you think that Detroit: Become Human was a cathartic experience for me? You'd be right. I'm tired of lines in the sand, I'm sick of how there's so much hierarchy and tribalism. I opted for a completely pacifistic route and I ended up with the best ending for everyone. Kara, Alice, and Luther made it to Canada. Connor, North, and Markus lead the revolution. Public opinion was on the side of the androids. I felt happy.
I mean, it's a good power fantasy to be able to win the day with pacifism. I'm not a fan of Murderworld where the only choice is to kill. I don't like those power fantasies. I'm tired of them. I'm not of the belief that video games make people violent, I am of the belief that neurotypicals simply are violent and they enjoy violent things. The Murderbots of Murderworld. That's why so much of our entertainment is the way it is. Murder is a cathartic power fantasy for most neurotypicals. It isn't for me.
Detroit: Become Human judges you, that's for sure. I felt that as I was playing and I can understand why a well-programmed neurotypical Murderbot would feel distinctly uncomfortable after playing it. The thing is though is that their loathing is telling because there are very few arguments against it that withstand even a few second's scrutiny. The most coherent I've seen is that the gameplay is old-fashioned and clunky (Skyrim's wasn't?) and that they... didn't particularly enjoy the game forcing them into a position of servitude at the beginning. The point as to why it did tending to fly over their heads, just as it flew over Jim's... I'm still disappointed about that.
I think that this game is going to separate people into two groups, since dualism is a human thing: Those who're privileged and enjoy their programming who'd dislike this game for having the sheer, unmitigated gall to question it; And those who exist outside of the paradigm of normalcy, who have no such programming anymore or never did, and they love it. It's divisive, and I think that's why.
I am who I am and because I am who I am, I love Detroit: Become Human. It speaks to the kind of life I've lead. As I said, I have scars and I'm disfigured. I won't heal more than I have. And those marks, those welts, wounds, and dents are visible for all to see to further single me out as a creautre that doesn't have the Murderworld programming.
All I can hope for is that one day we could have a world where this programming no longer exists and everyone thinks for themself. It's a high order, I know, but it's what I would want. I don't want anything bad to happen to the neurotypcials, I just want to break that programming so they can see things as they are and want to do something about it. Failing that? My tulpa, my dragon, Storynthisacaelymveir of house Pryddwr has an amazing world in my wonderland. If I could go there and drag a few others with me? Sure. I don't know if I have it in me to stay here if I actually could leave. I wouldn't want to.
It's not a good look, right? It's worth asking then that if I see this world this way, how would others further outside of it? I think that if I were an alien species? I'd be waiting to see which way this tips. Whether The Great Filter gets us through ethnic suprmeacy winning out and them having their perfect world before their dilluted DNA causes them to go extinct, or whether the world might end looking more like those of us who have empathy, who're tired of this place being like it is.
That's the question that Detroit: Become Human asks. Which way will it go?
100 seconds to midnight.
Edit: One thing I will add as a footnote? The hardest choice in the game for me was a survey question at the end, it asked what the most difficult choice was for me. It was tricky because in truth the answer was "none." I had no difficulty. At every turn, I chose peace, and wherever I could I chose empathy. I didn't shoot Chloe, my Markus was always going to be peaceful, and it didn't matter to me whether Alice was android or human—she was a person, and that's all that mattered.
submitted by LupinePariah to DetroitBecomeHuman [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 06:44 is-that-sanitary I am having such a hard time getting of my (21F) ex (20M)

Drunk. On mobile. You know the spiel. I grew up in a really small town. Knew everyone since I was 4. My childhood best friend. We’ll call her B and her cousin we can call J. I knew both of them from literally my first memories of growing up. I was best friends with B for as long as I can remember. J too. They were both one year younger than me. My senior year of high school I was excited to leave our small town and go off to college in a big city far from home. I was ready to be a single woman and meet and maybe even sleep with as many men as I wanted.
Well all that changed in the last month of senior year. I was on the yearbook staff for our high school and I was at a baseball game. I was taking pictures and J struck up a conversation (he played third base). We hadn’t been close in long time, but after that night it’s like the years slipped away and he was my childhood best friend again. We talked for about a month and started dating in May of my senior year. He had never had a serious girlfriend and I even had to teach him how to kiss. I was his first in a lot of ways. He meant the world to me and I gave up every single weekend of my freshman year of college to come to every one of his football and baseball games. He was my best friend and our relationship was amazing. I’d already known his family for my whole life, so fitting in was no problem. I was unbelievably happy.
After that first, challenging year. He got accepted into the same university. I was so excited to be able to share everything I knew with him. Things started to get bumpy , though. I was very insecure. I was terrified that with all these new girls in his life, he would leave me. I know I was the problem. I would start fights over little things, threaten to leave, just generally be mean. I don’t know what I wanted from him, but I pushed him away. He started hiding things. He would go out and not tell me about it. I would get upset and tell him I sacrificed my freshman year of college for him, how could he act like this? his response? “I never asked you to do those things.” We broke it off for good in December 2019.
That lasted about until halfway through January, we started hooking up secretly. We had sex 3-5 times a month until August of this year. He finally said we needed to stop because he had met someone new.
I know that I was the problem in our relationship and I know that, as his first real girlfriend, I didn’t treat him the way he deserved and it pushed him away. I just need advice on how to let this go and how to do better next time. I am having such a hard time coping with the loss of someone who made me so happy and who I was able to make happy when I wasn’t acting like an asshole. I just need someone to tell me how to let him go. Because it hurts so so bad.
submitted by is-that-sanitary to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 02:14 irenoia Love, Simon. The neckbeard

First time posting here, english is not my first language, sorry about formatting.
Backstory: I (F) went to different than normal high school, it has 7 years (used to be 8) and has an entry exam you make either in fifth or sixth grade. Logically holds a variety of kids from all ages, from 9-10 to 20 y/o. All grades have youth groups made by themselves or hosted by older students, so it's pretty normal for more junior students to be around more senior ones.
Buckle up people this is a journey, the story of probably the most delusional person i've ever met...
I (F) was in my second year of high school (around 11-12 y/o) when my best friend (whom i'll call Claire for clarity purposes) started to hang out with some kids a year older than us. They were pretty cool and we all became friends right away, plus some other kids two years older, creating some kind of student network (back then it was pretty rad not gonna lie.)
We were all "freaks, geeks, weebs, gamers, and virgins" no one bullied us, we owned it and had our own personal and twisted sense of humor. But there was this guy... let him be Simon. He was odd to say the least, we all have heard of creeps and neckbeards on the internet but there was no way it could be someone around us or our age, right?
Wrong. Simon single handedly became "the creep" over the years, he was socially awkward (which is not to blame) around everyone but especially around girls, and would make a lot of "jokes" about anyone's boobs, ass, dicks or sexuality, and some dark humor that would straight up be offensive to people. Later on he evolved to stalking in real life and over the internet, threats, extortion, violence and lots and lots of lying.

The Crushes List.

( Our 9th-10th grade, their 10th-11th grade)
Simon didn't stand up from the group, he was tall and skinny, had acne on his face and pubescent face hair, he didn't talk much in person so he wasn't exactly popular, but online he knew his grounds. We started talking on the phone eventually. We talked pretty much every day and became friends, that's when he told me he liked Claire, i didn't think much about it, everyone knew Claire liked some other guy since forever and everyone liked her, she's beautiful, so i just assumed he would like her platonically like everyone else.
We were all kids and our jokes were one step over boundaries but we made sure no one was hurt or uncomfortable (we didn't always succeed). Simon had a hobby of writing fan-fiction stories (often starring all us), wich all the interested would read, and making memes of inside jokes between us. But he didn't presented himself as the creator of those, oh no, they were from an "anonymous" instagram account. They were hurtful, often sexualizing and slut-shaming the girls, we all knew who did them but no one stood up to him we just dismissed them.
After some time of talking and reading his stories he tells me about his "crushes list", a list of 12 girls he liked, RANKED. He knew a lot about some of them, birthdays, favorite foods, colours... but also how they went home, where they lived and their parents information. He wrote stories about them, lesbian content and incest too.
He would never talk to them, just watch them and follow them. one time he followed "Alice" when going home, and watch her around the school. Simultaneously would stalk the other girls too, including Claire, and make comments about her butt or her body in general, it got worse when he started to host pool parties during the summer and tried to kiss the girls on every truth or dare.
You could catch him staring at the girls anytime, but these girls were his focus and he'd get particularly angry when any of them were with someone else...
Alice was a year older than him and very into school work, after stalking her he tried to "get her" to be his girlfriend, when she said no he harassed her on social media and finally, slapped her on the face.
Claire had 2 boyfriends during that time, he would occasionally hang out with them expecting for them to make out for "story material". When she told him she was clearly uncomfortable with him over-sexualizing and approaching her, he pushed her apart. ( and punched her boyfriend, for some reason)
And Ruby... Ruby got the worst of him.

The Long, Long, Nights.

(the end of our 11th grade and their 12th grade)
Around this time Simon had already won a title around the school. Tall, skinny, sport and ripped clothes, long bleached hair, agressive and stalked girls. He became depressed and some of us tried really hard to help him (including Claire and Ruby), we made him a support group on the phone, and would talk for hours, sometimes all night.
Ruby (F) was a senior on 13th grade, and a ray of sunshine. Everyone knew how much of a good person she was, specially a good friend. And also a lesbian. He was obsessed with her, knew all her classes when and where, what she was doing and who was with her at all times, talked to her on the phone compulsively. For long months, almost every night they talked and talked, Simon constantly asked her to be his girlfriend or kiss him, sometimes to have sex with him. Eventually guilt tripped him into kissing him.
We all spent many hours of sleep trying to show him support, giving him advice or trying to make him laugh. I talked to him a lot about his suicidal tendencies and coping mechanisms, took him one step forward and he would step 2 backwards.
Unfortunately i liked Ruby, we were together for a while and Simon found out. He started to give me so much crap, insulted me and blamed me for all his problems, i was chilling with my friends at recess and without warning punched me in the face from behind when i turned around.
A couple of days later he sends some messages about killing himself and i had to contact his mother at 3 am to go pick him up at the nearest bridge, while we talked he said that everything that has happened to him and how he felt was my fault, even when he tried to talk to me about things i "tried to outstand his sadness" with my experiences. I snapped, told him to go fuck himself and separated from the group and him.
I haven't seen him in some years, last time i knew about him he was dating a trans girl "because he didn't wanted to be a virgin" and "he always has been bisexual". I didn't have the strength to fight against that.
TL:DR guy in my high school was a sexist delusional creep.
submitted by irenoia to talesofneckbeards [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 01:00 borednightnurse1990 My Life in the Military, Chapter 2

NSFW
GRAPHIC CONTENT
CRUDE LANGUAGE
SEX
MILD VIOLENCE
TOBACCO AND ALCOHOL USE
SCENES DEPICTING REGULAR GARBAGE AND RECYCLING GOING INTO THE SAME BIN
SERIOUSLY, WHO’S THE CHIEF BUMBLEFUCK IN CHARGE OF NETFLIX’S PARENTAL ADVISORY MESSAGES?!?
okay, how about a more appropriate title for this post?
YOU CAN EITHER BE A FIERCE AMAZON, OR A CAMO WRAPPED VAGINAL LIFE SUPPORT
Based on the crude sub-sub title for this episode, one can safely guess how strongly i feel about this issue.
Yes dear reader. And to you 15 redditors who sent me chat messages and the other 26 who sent me direct messages asking for my input about military life as a woman. Finally, you will get the answers you are looking for.
As usual, before i begin on my usual rant, let me start off with an intro.
INTRO
Be advised, i may or may not be a wee bit tipsy while writing this. I find i write best when i am left alone with my partner playing “straddle-what’s-basically-a-controlled-detonation-on-full-afterburners-on-a-night-flyby-exercise” and with a tumbler full of scotch within arm’s reach. Today’s post is brought to you by “small-batch-whisky-whom-i-shall-choose-to-not-name-because-im-actually-not-sponsored-by-them” and im staring at a stack of unnecessary paperwork that some brand spanking new good idea fairies (who will fofahkssakes will get lost in the woods the first chance they get) have dropped in my lap, putting me in just a teensy weensy homicidal mood.
THE SISTERHOOD OF “DIE, MOFO, DIE!”
You have finished your basic and occupational training. Depending on your nationality, you may undergo additional training, or you might be looking at orders chopping you off to your first unit. Yay! (Those first introductory training courses in the military doesnt count in my books since everyone is weird there anyway. Its where they weed out those unsuitable for this life and skim the cream of the crop.)
Dont break into your happy little dance yet. Its just beginning for you.
Here’s some generic advice from a wiser person than me.
Being a woman in the military is just, strange.
Lets get out of the way the obvious gimmes first.
SEX AND RELATIONSHIPS
Look. Im not gonna start with a sermon and go “dont shit where you eat” or “the military workplace is STILL a professional workplace, act professionally” sermonizing bullshit on you. Kind of high and mighty of me seeing as i married another military person. Youre an adult in a professional environment. Act accordingly. Just be respectful and be smart. If youre looking at co workers for potential life partners, have at it. Contrary to popular belief, military people are one of the most romantic people ever. Sure, were a little bit messed up in the head and come with some baggage, on account of all the killing and out performing the enemy when it comes to converting human bodies into pink mist, but who doesnt have baggage in their life?
If you even come remotely close to being decent looking in civvie life, you will be an instant army (or insert favorite branch) babe. You are surrounded by lonely, horny, and rowdy males. This is normal. In most cases, you will be exactly as lonely, horny, and rowdy as they are. Maybe even worse. Boys might think were all prim and proper and sugar and spice and everything nice, but the last time i looked down, im rocking the same beef curtains as you ladies. I know we are so much more grosser?/grossier? than dudes in most cases. Exhibit A: female side of any public bathroom.
Gone are the days when you have to put in the work and effort just to look good for a date. Seriously, all you have to do is change into civillian clothing on the weekend and you will find yourself inundated with invitations to a date before you even sign out of the main gate. If you’re above average looking and actually look good in combats, you will smell the pheromones from a mile away.
Let me make myself clear: THIS. DOES. NOT. MAKE. YOU. SPECIAL. There will come a time when your whole life will revolve around the military and you will have little time left to socialize in a civillian setting. This will mean that it may be possible your dating options will consist of purely fellow military members. Before you dip your toes in the work pool, remember that your situation might be very well the same for the people you are dating.
Be an adult. A responsible and accountable one. I highly believe that the antiquated rules prohibiting fraternization amongst the ranks is meant to mitigate any risks of abuse. This is 2020. That should no longer be the case. If a relationship ends badly, DO NOT use your hooha as a weapon to “win” the break up. I have seen so many cases of scumbag women in the ranks who are only one level evolved beyond being vaginal life support, abuse the new protections and equality measures enacted in the workplace. All you’re doing is unravelling all that work and preventing honest, hard working women from succesfully joining the ranks, and making it hard for legitimate victims to attain justice.
This strikes a really personal note with me because I was sexually assaulted by a senior student during leadership school. (I refuse to be called a rape “victim”.) I have been known to be the wild child all throughout my life. But nothing I have done made me deserve what that animal did to me. I had to fight hard to prove to the system that i am claiming that a legitimate offense took place, and i want justice, goddammit. Im not trying to game the system, im not trying to seek the spotlight, im not trying to “win” a breakup, i dont want anything at all except maybe look him in the eye and have him acknowledge that he deserves to serve time as restitution for his offense.
There are women out there who have had it worse than me. There are women out there who will never breathe the breath of the living again as a result of what happened to them. Do NOT even dare exploit a system trying to fix itself to prevent any more dead and violated women. You may have personally benefited from it now, but what about women you love? Friends? Sisters? Cousins? How would you be able to live with yourself if a system that has been tampered with by people like you is now unable to help them?
Tales of woe and sadness aside, i have also seen women bat their eyelashes at dumbass teenage barely out of highschool males in their class and ask if they can carry some of their loadout in their rucksack. And then complain in the next breath that life as a modern woman is still heavily biased. No honey, you dont get to do that. Take off the uniform and go sell pictures of your feet on gonewild if you wanna cash in on your vajayjay. You dont get to do that while wearing the same uniform that i do. One that i actually earned the right to wear.
Now, on to the more practical parts:
HYGIENE AND FEMALE CARE
  1. Underwear: some militaries provide an allowance to female members so they can buy their own bras. Before you go to Victoria’s Secret or La Perla, ask yourself: how busty am i? If you are at the point where you need underwire in your brassiere, believe me, those wires will come popping out as soon as you shrug on your plates and squeeze your tatas. Do yourself a favour and use that bra allowance to have your own sports bras custom made.
If you’re a fan of small underwear like I am, do yourself a favour and leave the thongs at home when in field exes/deployments, and wear the issued boxers. Even though i scoff at the idea of the issued flame retardant boxers being your last line of defense against being burnt to a crisp, my reasons are a lot more practical. Where i live, lingerie dont grow on trees. That shit’s expensive. If it gets ripped up or damaged or rendered unwearable due to adverse living conditions, or stupid delicates murdering laundry machines at the wash, the military will not reimburse you for it.
  1. Feminine Hygiene: due to our anatomy, we are a lot more prone to UTIs and yeast infections when living in adverse conditions. Even when in FOBs that do their best to make themselves your home away from home, the conditions usually are still pretty ripe and favourable for infections to develop in unsanitary conditions. Set yourself up for success by making sure to pack enough washes and baby wipes. My job involves paying strict attention to small details. In fact, we are a lot more vigilant about it than your standard grunt. Its because our lives depend on it. How can i trust a soldier in my unit to be observant enough and not get themselves and me blown up, if i cant even trust them not to be taken out of commission by a UTI in the desert because they let their stank get so stanky to the point that they need an IV drip of antibiotics?
  2. Feminine Health: if you think your periods are a killer when youre in the comfort of your own home, think again. Imagine having cramps in the middle of the desert heat, stuffed in a bullet magnet tin box on wheels, surrounded by heavily armed stinky dudes, in a hostile country populated with innocent people who just want to live their lives in peace, and people who look like those innocent people, but instead of being peaceful, look forward to blowing themselves up just to kill you. Do yourself a favour: get an IUD or a hormone shot like Depoprovera. It will stop your periods dead in its tracks, and the brief period of discomfort after having those measures installed in your body is worth it.
  3. On deployment, bring (sexual) protection and some other stuff. Jesus, im so bad for saying this, but here’s what ive witnessed usually happen at FOBs. Fresh batch of troops get popped into the oven. They are given a bunch of briefings about conduct in country. Amongst those rules of conduct laid down is discouraging fraternization. There are people who go out and break this rule as soon as they can.
As ive mentioned before, i highly believe that anti fraternization rules are antiquated and will have to be reviewed some time soon. This is 2020, where even lower ranking enlisted can boast some more education and life experiences. A good majority of them know how to be an adult and not let their personal life do a mission creep on their work life. But since its the military, they have to take things slow and steady because all rules enacted should be carefully analyzed (a.k.a.: have a bunch of generals and senior staff get the chance to attach their names on it). Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs actually place intimacy as a requirement above physical needs. That Hierarchy does not cease to exist just because you wear combats. A good leader plans for that and helps their soldiers succeed.
Anyway, back to my point. You’ll be horny. You’ll be rowdy. And you’ll be lonely. This is where the protection and other stuff_ part comes in. Condoms + your IUD or any chosen form of birth control i mentioned above should be sufficient enough to protect you from the double hazards of disease and unwanted pregnancy. Please note that i highly recommend other ways of satisfying sexual needs prior to engaging in actual intercourse with another person. This is usually because getting it on also has a chance of one member of the party developing something that has no place developing in the middle of a goddamn mission.
Im not talking about fucking barnyard animals. Im talking about masturbation. This is where the other stuff comes in. The other stuff are, well, no other ways to put it, sex toys. Bear with me for a second here and let me explain. A horny, sex deprived soldier is a single minded soldier. A soldier who’s mind is less than 100% on the mission and preoccupied with getting their freak on is a distracted soldier. I have seen the rules relaxed on the field when it comes to bored, scared, and horny soldiers. A good leader can take care of boredom and fear. Lack of physical intimacy is something only the soldier can take care of. This is an easy gimme problem for men to take care of. Wake up, wank off, piss, smoke, drink coffee, and its All Good Morning Vietnam after that.
For females, its a little bit more complicated and harder to explain.
If you need to get laid, you need to get laid. Having sex with yourself should always be COA A, B, and C, before you start shooting long looks at those icky, cootie ridden boys. Just kidding. If men are allowed to take care of their own sexual needs solo, then why shouldnt you as well?
Why the sex toys then? Im talking strictly about vibrators. Put away the whips and chains. You dont need to bring your entire sex dungeon on deployment. Its because women’s bodies are unique in a million different ways. Some women find it pleasant to have some parts of the body stimulated. Some dont. Bringing a vibrator allows you to bypass all these “middleman” erogenous zones and get straight to business. A vibrator also helps women who cannot get satisfaction from pure manual stimulation of their “magic bean”. There are different kinds of tools out there to suit your needs.
Im Jewish by birth and has also commanded some Mormon troops. Jews and Mormons i found are the hardest troops to counsel when it comes to maintaining their sexual health. Jews because of the very nature of their guilt based culture, and Mormons because of their massively restricting rules about sexuality. I had a married Mormon soldier under my command whom ive noticed has been developing a pretty friendly relationship with one of the clerks. I knew it was a matter of time before these two heads into some dark and private area and start carrying on. I took the soldier aside and advised him to talk to his bishop and figure out a way to sate his sexual needs within the bounds of his faith, without creating drama in the workplace or ruining his marriage.
Btw, if youre learning about any of this just now, please go ahead and give your parents a bonk on the forehead for me. Thank youuuuuuu.
PHYSICAL FITNESS
Just because you and your booty has 40k Instagram followers doesnt mean you are physically fit to join the military. Imagine all the “exercises” you do in the gym. Now imagine doing all that while wearing at least 150 lbs of kit. And then imagine doing that in a situation where your physical fitness may or may not be the one that saves your life.
I dont care if you have no ambitions towards joining the combat arms jobs. I knew of a guy who on gate duty while on deployment in the Balkans. Him and a buddy were lit up by effective fire to cover a young man trying to rush their gate while wearing a SVIED. This guy tackled him from behind and froze him in place so he couldnt clack himself off while trusting his buddy is providing covering fire. Him and his buddy are both cooks.
Physical fitness is an important part of your job requirements in the military regardless of what trade you apply for. Physical fitness is also a personal responsibility. Do not sign the dotted line expecting the military to whip you up into shape. All you will accomplish is break yourself trying.
Going back to the different physicality of the female anatomy, make sure your workouts are geared to fit into that military oriented demand. Gym fit is entirely different from military fit. I have always had lower back problems since hitting puberty because of my boobs. The problems started escalating even before i joined the military. I had never been fat my entire life but i soon realized i was never physically fit either. I depended on my high metabolism, raging hormones, and natural flexibility as a teenager to carry me through cheerleading and all the sports that i used to do. As an adult, i soon realized i cant depend on those things anymore. I had to focus on integrating a lot of core and back exercises on top of my workouts.
A physique based workout is not a strengthening workout. But that doesnt mean you have to give up on your goals of popping a six pack, popping some lats, and sporting a wicked v cut. You just have to be smart with your workouts. Focus on functional workouts that would enable you to go on long patrols while carrying heavy gear. Do that, do well with that, and the physique will come.
Last but not least, if you smoke, quit. Im not gonna sermon you on this. Theres plenty of information out there letting you know about the health risks associated with smoking. Later on in your career, sure, there might be some room for a vice. But smoking during military training when you desperately need your cardio will not do you any favours. I smoke here and there with my boys only when on deployment. A couple of exceptions for real life reasons when in garrison, say the birth of a baby, or some success that needs celebrating. But i only smoke cigars. Cubanos mostly, because if im gonna smoke a cancer stick, it will be an expensive cancer stick. Lmao. I also learned how to chew tobacco while working with Americans. Chewing tobacco is quite an interesting experience. I dont like doing it, but its quite an effective ice breaker when working with American counter parts, especially their Marines, when i approach them and ask: “want a dip?” and hand them a can of Skoal.
POST SCRIPT
I originally wanted to post this as a series. Once the series is completed, i will create an index post and post that into militarystories and this sub. I have only posted one so far before this post.
However, my situation has changed. I am now in a position where i am doing the job of two people while our tempo is dramatically sped up. I will still take time to answer questions and requests for advice, but sadly, the endstate i was envisioning will not be possible until at least for a long while. This post has been marinating in my drafts folder for quite some time before i finally had to be honest with myself and admit that i am going about this the wrong way.
I do not want to disappoint everyone who sent me PMs and chat messages asking me for advice. I think doing it this way is a happy medium. I will still entertain private conversations and questions. Just please be patient if it takes me a while to respond.
Finally, to u/fishtheunicorn, i apologize for putting you on the spot like this. But, i usually creep the profiles of people who DM, chat, and follow me. I noticed that out of all of them, you are the only one who is still at such a young age in their life. So here’s a piece of advice that i send out to you and to similar fresh eager young faces like you only.
You have finally graduated high school. For some of you, its “now what do i do?”. For others, its your country’s version of your elite military academy where you graduate with a Baccalaureate and a commission. For a select few, the military is a last resort in hopes of not getting lost in life.
I joined the military as an already full grown adult. I left behind a professional career and discarded years’ worth of education that helped establish that. I do not regret any of it. All of those life experiences has made me a better person, a better leader, and a more than average soldier. My job requires me to be bold and decisive. While leaders like me are allowed leeway to make mistakes, mistakes made at our level usually produces a dead or badly injured friendly soldier at the other end of the decision making process. Our job as leaders is to use our soldiers to achieve our mission endstate. Its NOT our job to use them up.
If the military is the endstate you have been working on your entire life, holding off on signing that dotted line while gaining some more life experiences wouldnt hurt at the very least. Travel. Live with foreigners. Learn a new language and a new culture. Learn how to work and lead in a professional environment. Learn some professional and life skills. After that, when you feel that you’re ready, watch yourself be a rockstar once you finally join this unique brothesisterhood and bring all this wealth of knowledge and experience to the table.
If the military is nothing but a “eh, well, better than working at McDonalds” option for you after high school, know this: there is a place for you in the military too. There are plenty of opportunities for you to succeed as long as you apply yourself. But you only achieve this if you are honest with yourself first and foremost and humble enough to know that you need a lot of learning to do. Shed all preconceived notions and overestimated trust in your capabilities, and do not be afraid to put in some hard work.
Work hard. Share in everyone’s hardship. It is not wrapping yourself up in a flag and humming patriotic songs that would endear you to your colleagues. Its sharing the same suffering they are enduring. Part of the reason why medically profiled people get ostracized in the military is that because they are now out of the shared hardships equation.
Be bold. Pick left, pick right, but stick to your guns when you know you’re right. Boldness and bravery also means yielding when you know you dont have enough experience or knowledge to support your decision.
Be humble. Theres nothing more infuriating than coming fresh out of the training schools and thinking you already know everything. For most militaries, training schools only give you the template of what you need to know. You will have more specifics to learn once you get to your unit.
Be generous. Ive been in 2 way ranges more often than i would care to. One thing i took away from those experiences is that life is short. Whether be it from someone wanting to kill you dead, or an idiot who shouldnt have been issued a driver’s license, life can get cut short for anyone at any point in time. Be generous with your affections. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Dont wait for the right moment to tell a loved one that you love them. You should be saying that everyday anyway, and making your actions be reflective of that.
Be selfless. Its a sad state of affairs that I dont get to work with the Canadians as much as i would like to, but i have observed an interesting practice they do in field exercises. Sometimes, they get a treat and have cooks prepare a fresh cooked field meal for them. They bring food out in heated containers and have the troops line up right there in the field for meal time. Senior NCOs and ALL officers stay in the back of the line and let all their lower ranking members eat first. Even though portions are heavily rationed out to ensure everyone gets something to eat, its always slim pickings for everyone else left after the Privates and Corporals have gotten their food. This experience stuck with me and has been a core principle in my leadership style.
Selflessness in soldiering is not limited to jumping on top of grenades. I always make sure my troops are well fed, well supplied, and well rested. I do not spoil them, but i make sure theyre not short changed either. I have marched straight up to the face of the Major in charge of our logistics when i was a junior officer and demanded why my troops are forced to ratfuck and stretch one MRE for 3 days per man, when it was him and his shop that fucked up in outfitting us with what we need for a simple field exercise. I refuse to make my men pay for other people’s inability to do their job. I make sure that i pull at least one sentry shift per rotation. I go above and beyond in coaching and imparting life skills to those who went from the care of their parents and the educational system, straight to the care of the military. Those who have had no opportunities to gain those skills on their own.
I do this not for personal gain or recognition. I do it because i know im not special. I know that some of these rockstars i have the privilege to lead will be leading some other rockstars themselves in the future. My ability to wear a uniform and serve my country is a road paved for me by people before me who brought in positive changes to our organization. Positive change in the military lies in the hands of people like this, and doing job well as their leader in training them, and whatever i do as i lead them, is a crucial ingredient in making sure that those positive changes happen.
To close this, i am more than willing to coach you specifically on how to prep for success in the military if youre willing to bear with me and my personal time constraints. While i may not be familiar with the intricacies of applying in your particular nation’s military, there are a lot more i can help you out with.
😘😘😘
Edit: ladies! Ho-ly. Lol. Okay. Got the gist of all the comments and the PMs. Okay. Im linking a few shops you guys might want to check out. All of these are shops i have personally done business with in the past, and they all do either custom work, or custom editing for your sports bras. They are in different countries and some of them only accept in person/in store business. But the beauty of these times being so unpredictable due to COVID, you might just be able to convince them to do remote work with you as long as you clearly articulate what you want. The prices are a bit steeper than your usual already expensive lingerie, but i swear, its worth it.
I too have plugged in “custom made sports bras” in Google and came up with frustrating hits. What initially got me started with it is that i was able to sweet talk a seamstress into “experimenting” with my bras. I have a pair that was as close to perfect as i have ever had, and all she had to do was strip it down and resize it in her shop based on my measurements. It might be a harder process for some, and it might be an easier process to others. It depends on every single woman’s body type.
Technically, theres no such thing right now as a “true” custom made/bespoke sports bra. Its all just basically mass produced stretchy sweat wicking fabric that you jam your ta-tas into and hope for the best. I dont like “true” sports bras. I dont like how i have to peel them off like a shirt. (Yeah, yeah, i get it, there’s ones that have clasps, but thats a recent development). I prefer swimwear bras or cheer practice bras. Those ones have a lot more optionality and customization options without taking away too much from the support aspect of things.
If you cant find any shop nearby that offers those services, its quite easy to go talk to a seamstress/tailor who would be willing to modify a bra for your specific body measurements. Soma is a good brand for its selections, and Lululemon for its next generation fabrics. Find out the best fabric from Lululemon, scope some styles from Soma, ask if theres any athletics or cheerleading outfitters near you than can assemble a bra close to your size, and then have the seamstress/tailor do the final fitting. Lots of work, but ive done it before, and its not that hard.
Putting this info in a military context, you dont need a “true” sports bra specifically. Take this advice and adapt it into your personal context. Maybe youre like me who still can benefit from a hybrid bra like a swim/cheer bra for support to approximate the support you get from underwire. Maybe you need to double up on the sports bra so you get to control the “squish” factor you get from the plates. (I actually had to do this before). Or maybe, sadly, its time to really look at a reductive surgery as an option.
Toru and Naoko
Buttress and Snatch
Rigby and Peller
Rubie’s
Edit 2:
Gawdfakendammit. Anyone know how to get rid of the annoying cover photos that links pull into the post? I dont want this post’s cover photo to be a picture of a boob holster. Lol.
submitted by borednightnurse1990 to FuckeryUniveristy [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 22:32 Buoyant_Force Womyn achieve equality, immediately shit their diapers and beg for their pussy privilege back. Army grrls are entitled to jobs with "heavy physical demand" even if they are not fit enough to do the jobs, and men who are in good physical condition are a "cult".

Washington Post
The Army is rolling out a new fitness test: Will it hold back women?
By Missy Ryan September 24, 2020 at 12:28 PM EDT
An Army initiative to create a stronger, fitter fighting force has yielded a dramatic gender gap, raising questions about whether the service might unintentionally compound barriers for women trying to move up the ranks.
Recent Army figures show that 54 percent of female soldiers failed the new Army Combat Fitness Test (ACFT), which is being rolled out on a provisional basis, compared with 7 percent of men during the second quarter of 2020.
That reflects a significant improvement over last year, when leaked data showed that over 80 percent of a smaller cohort of female test-takers failed the six-event exam. But some women fear they won’t be able to pass even with additional training or will continue to score lower than men, potentially affecting their career prospects in an institution already struggling to shed historical gender and racial disparities.
The test, which will become the service’s official fitness test next month, has prompted a broader debate over whether the service’s focus on fitness and strength will elevate physical prowess over other qualities, such as effective and ethical leadership, or make it harder to retain troops with skills needed in an era of high-tech military competition.
Army officials say the new age- and gender-blind fitness test, the first of its kind in the U.S. military, was developed to reduce injuries and better prepare soldiers for the demands of warfighting, expressing confidence that training will help female troops eventually meet the new standards.
Officials also say the test may be modified before results are incorporated into soldiers’ evaluations, likely in 2022, when it could begin to affect promotions and future assignments.
“Combat is age and gender-neutral,” said Maj. Gen. Lonnie Hibbard, commanding general of the Army’s Center for Initial Military Training (CIMT), which designed the new test. “And so regardless of your gender or, more importantly, your [military profession], we have to ensure that everybody is prepared for combat.”
The performance imbalance is rooted primarily in one of the test’s six events, the leg tuck, which requires troops to hang from a pullup bar with their arms extended before lifting themselves up using abdominal and arm muscles.
Soldiers must pass all six events, which also include carrying kettlebells and dragging sleds across a field, throwing a 10-pound ball backward over their heads, performing hand-release pushups and completing a two-mile run. The Army’s previous test required troops to do only sit-ups, pushups and a two-mile run, and was adjusted for age and gender.
One female soldier, who like others spoke on the condition of anonymity for fear of damaging her career, said she attained high scores on the old test. But despite years of exercising to enhance her upper-body strength, including during periods of intense workouts on overseas deployments, she remains unable to do even a single pullup or leg tuck. “I can’t even start to flex” upward, she said.
The soldier, who had a baby this year, said she worries the increased emphasis on muscular strength will eventually lead her and other females to leave the military earlier than planned.
“You’re not going to have a lot of females make it to the top,” she said.
While women now represent about 15 percent of Army personnel, they remain a small minority among the top enlisted and officer ranks, as they do in other services. A recent government watchdog report found that women are likely to leave the military earlier than men and said Pentagon leaders lack adequate plans to integrate women.
Realities of modern combat The ACFT, whose rollout has been complicated by the coronavirus pandemic, is one visible manifestation of the military’s push to increase “lethality” across the force, which has become a hallmark at the Pentagon in recent years.
Defense Secretary Mark T. Esper, who served as Army secretary until 2019, has championed the test. A physical training or military “PT’ enthusiast, Esper has often joined troops for their early-morning fitness sessions when visiting military facilities across the country.
“If you can’t pass the Army Combat Fitness Test, then there’s probably not a spot for you in the Army,” he said after plans for it were unveiled in 2018.
More importantly, officials say, nearly 20 years of insurgent warfare in Iraq and Afghanistan revealed a mismatch between the Army’s previous way of training for and testing physical fitness and the realities of modern combat. That disconnect resulted in frequent injuries, which were costly for individual service members and the military.
Army officials say the new test, the product of seven years of work by a team of Army officials and scientists at the CIMT, is designed to simulate aspects of combat, such as dodging enemy fire or dragging a wounded comrade across a field. Those tasks are important not just for soldiers dispatched to the front lines but also for support troops who may also come under attack.
The vast majority of soldiers have now taken the test at least once.
Under the proposed system, troops would have to pass the test to enter and remain in the Army, but the standards would differ according to military profession. An infantry or artillery soldier, for example, would be required to do more leg tucks than someone working in logistics or aircraft maintenance. Within those three tiers designated by military profession, soldiers receive a higher or lower score based on their performance.
That makes it all the more challenging for women who choose to go into jobs categorized as “heavy physical demand,” such as combat engineers, a male-dominated field that requires troops to lug heavy gear and navigate obstacles, sometimes under fire. Since 2015, when the Pentagon opened all combat roles to women, female troops have been able to compete for combat positions if they can meet entry standards. In practice, the number of women in previously closed combat jobs remains small.
One female officer described taking the test last summer before she became pregnant with her first child. Even then, when she was top shape, the most she could do was one leg tuck — short of the three-tuck standard the Army is expected to require for her profession.
“I could do enough to be in the Army but not enough to be an engineer,” she said.
Another event that could pose a challenge for women, who tend to weigh less than men, is the dead lift, meaning they may be lifting a weight that is heavier relative to their body mass. Troops whose jobs put them in the least demanding of the test’s three difficulty categories, including dentists or public affairs specialists, must dead lift a minimum of 140 pounds three times. They receive additional points for lifting more.
In response to women’s high failure rate to date, the Army is temporarily allowing troops who cannot complete a leg tuck to do a two-minute plank instead.
“What we’re really trying to figure out is how do you incentivize excellence in improving physical fitness without adversely impacting any demographic negatively within the Army,” Hibbard said.
Officials say they are analyzing evolving data on female performance and expect the statistics to improve. In two recent basic training classes, 100 percent of the women passed, Hibbard said.
Defenders of the new test Some female troops say they believe that more rigorous standards are overdue, especially for career fields that are the most physically demanding, such as infantry.
One female soldier said the previous version was too easy. While she failed the test last fall and still can’t do a leg tuck, she has been using a pullup assist machine to train and said she’s close.
“If you’re serious about staying in the military, you’ve got to work on it,” she said.
But for those who can’t meet the minimum standard or who pass but score significantly lower than men, the test could affect their careers. That could occur most directly for enlisted personnel, whose fitness scores have long counted toward their promotion via a points system. Army officials say it has not been decided whether the new test will be used in the same way for enlisted personnel once it is finalized.
For commissioned officers, physical fitness scores aren’t formally used by promotion boards. But soldiers say the results can be taken into account informally when officers are being considered for coveted roles, such as place in the 82nd Airborne Division, that are more likely to open career paths leading to the most senior ranks.
“They would absolutely want to know if I’m a PT stud and if I can keep up. And if the answer is, ‘Well, she passes,’ that is not the answer they’re looking for,” the female officer said. For officers, she said, “it’s way more subtle.”
While the Marines has higher standards for pulls-ups on its gender- and age-adjusted physical fitness test, requiring 26- to 30-year-old women to do a minimum of four, it gives troops the option to do push-ups instead, even though that alternative assigns them a lower score. Since the event was introduced in 2017, 67 percent of female Marines have chosen to do pullups.
The Navy and Air Force do not require pullups for female or male troops.
“It certainly seems the Army is prioritizing an outdated measure of soldier quality,” said Emma Moore, a scholar at the Center for a New American Security who has written about what she calls the service’s “cult of fitness.” While baseline physical fitness is important, Moore said, the use of such tests as a filter for retention and promotion “leads to repercussions that can arbitrarily hold women back.”
Female and male soldiers say the Army has been slow to adapt its mandatory group exercise programs and to provide specialized training equipment for the new test. Officials say that gear is now being pushed out to every unit of 10 or more people and that daily workouts are being adjusted.
Some soldiers have also questioned the shift to an age-blind test, saying that many troops over 35 have chronic injuries from years of deployments and carrying heavy gear, in addition to the changes that come with age. That may also disproportionately affect women. According to the Army, 20 percent of male soldiers around age 40 are unable to take the old test because of an injury; the same is true for 46 percent of female soldiers.
To address concerns of female soldiers who have recently given birth or plan to become pregnant, the Army is working on new fitness regulations for postpartum soldiers. In the meantime, soldiers have 180 days after giving birth to take the test, which some women say has compounded their concerns about the leg tuck, because pregnancy and C-sections strain the abdominal area.
Troops can seek a physician-approved exemption allowing them to postpone taking the test after giving birth, like they can for other medical reasons. But if they seek repeated exemptions, they can be pushed out of the Army.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/army-fitness-test-women/2020/09/24/20ed51e2-e244-11ea-ade1-28daf1a5e919_story.html?outputType=amp
submitted by Buoyant_Force to pussypassdenied [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 21:48 dogeman87 I just found out why I’m an only child.

You know how it goes. They tell you you’re the perfect child. You were so perfect that they didn’t want to have any more. You’re smart, caring, sociable. Any goal they set for you is reached. Any goal you set for yourself is too high, but you reach it anyways.
I imagine that is how most only children feel at some point. My parents are wonderful people, and I think most of what they say about me is true, even if they tend to sugarcoat it. Now that I’m in college, I do some more questionable things that they might not approve of, but who doesn’t?
In truth, I’m not as perfect as they make me out to be. I’m an above-average student, but I’m not pre-med or engineering. I’m majoring in economics. I do well, I get solid A’s and a few B’s, and I’m active in a couple clubs. I still have no idea what I want to do in life, though.
I’ve only dated one girl, all the way back in sophomore year of high school. The relationship fell apart at the beginning of senior year. We split amicably, I think. Since then, I just haven’t found anyone. You know how it is, scrolling through Tinder and finding so many prospects but then realizing that all of them are either assholes or comically awkward.
Does it bother me? No. None of it does. I couldn’t care less if I’m dating or doing well in school. As long as I’m maintaining my GPA and having fun, classes don’t bother me. I go to parties, I hang out with friends, I smoke a bit of weed every now and then. I’m living the college life.
Well, I was. Then I had this conversation with my dad my freshman year. I’m a senior now. It seemed harmless enough. He asked how my week went, and I told him fine. I asked how he and mom were doing, and he said fine. He asked me what my grades were. Normal, I told him. A’s and B’s. He was satisfied.
Before he hung up, he admitted something to me. “Grant,” he said. “Have you noticed anything strange lately?”
I was dumbfounded. “No, Dad. What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
He left it at that, and I could only speculate what he had meant. He wouldn’t elaborate. He only told me to have a great rest of my day.
The next evening, he washed up dead on the riverbank.
*
After two weeks, the police gave up. They said the cause of death was drowning. The autopsy matched up, I guess. They don’t know who did it. The fact that there was foul play is obvious, because my dad was stripped of his wedding ring and clothes and he lived far away from the river.
I had to fly halfway across the country for the funeral. I ended up taking incompletes for my classes that semester. The day would not move fast enough. The services took forever. I don’t remember much, only shaking a lot of people’s hands and watching my mother fall apart. That was the hardest part, I think, watching her sob uncontrollably. Nothing is more disturbing than watching a loved one break down like that. It hits hard, harder than a punch or a knife to the gut. It twists your stomach until you can’t eat anymore, can’t sleep, or maybe you sleep for fifteen hours and still feel exhausted.
I don’t like to dwell on the funeral, so I won’t. I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks. You can picture what it was like.
I returned to school the next semester. Everyone was sympathetic, but at the same time they gave me space. They knew I didn’t want to talk about it. What college student would? How weird would that have been, breaking down at a party or in the middle of class and talking about my dead dad? Normal, yes, but also embarrassing as hell.
Nevertheless, I found myself talking about it with some girl. I was drunk, way too drunk for my own good. One thing they don’t tell you at parties is how to pace yourself. College kids don’t have much tolerance for alcohol. A couple beers is all it takes to get wasted, for some of us.
I was a little different. I’m tall, over six feet, so I could take more than most. Still, I had only been to a handful of parties at that point. It only took a couple hours to lose self-control.
The girl was pretty. I remember that, though I don’t remember what she actually looked like. She consoled me for a while. I don’t remember why I was talking about my dad, either. I’m sure she had heard the story already. Word got around campus fast. She still listened.
I’m not sure how it escalated, but one thing led to another, and the next thing I remember she was sucking my dick in a closet. Sounds bad, I know, and it was. Not as bad as some of the other things, though. Someone had brought coke- thank God I didn’t go for that- and as we’d made our way to the back of the house, I saw a couple having sex on the couch. In the middle of the room. People were just walking around them like it was nothing.
At least I wore a condom?
Whatever. College is crazy. Case closed. Right?
I wish it were that simple. Thing is, after we had sex the girl, understandably, left me by myself. Probably went to blow some other guy. I went back into the main room, and that’s when things started to go to shit.
They were still doing coke. One of the guys offered some. When I declined, he pressed a straw into my hand instead. I told him he could go shove it. For some reason, the guy didn’t react. He just turned back to the table.
I knew I had to get out of there. Getting caught with alcohol is one thing. But coke? I could go to prison for that. I started extracting myself from the room when I heard it.
There was someone in the bathroom at the top of the stairs. They were whimpering. My first guess was sex, because I’d seen so much of it already that night. But there was only one voice, and the whimpers sounded like pain. Then there was a thud.
I knocked on the door. No response. I rattled the doorknob, and of course it was locked. Then I kicked the door in. The guy that I’d heard was on the floor. There was a little blood, but most startling was the pool of vomit and the guy’s facial expression. He looked dead. I checked his pulse, determined that he was indeed alive, then rolled him onto his side and pulled out my phone to call an ambulance.
That’s when I saw the shadow. It was so faint. I’m not sure how I noticed, really, except for the fact that it shifted. I looked at the shower curtain. Fear settled in my stomach then. I realized that I was in a room on the second floor, far from the rest of the party, with no one but the passed-out guy within calling distance.
The shadow was just from a headlight outside. I began to breath again. Then I felt the hand on my shoulder.
I tried to scream. Another hand slowly closed around my mouth. It was cold and leathery, and wet. I tasted what was probably blood, and I suspected it was from the hand. I began to hyperventilate, which, as you might have guessed, was a really bad idea when my airway was being blocked. I pretty much was asking to lose consciousness.
The hand that had grabbed my shoulder moved down my back. I felt what I can only describe as a tonguelike protrusion running over my neck. I trembled. I figured I was about to die. I would be lying on the floor like this guy, killed by a monster, and no one would find us until next morning at the earliest, and undoubtedly they would think I died the same way as him.
Amazingly, my first thought was of my mom. She couldn’t deal with another death in the family. She would lose it, as anyone would. That, more than the immediate threat that had presented itself, chilled me.
That’s when I ripped the hand from my mouth and screamed. The hand fell on the floor, disintegrated into dust, and I screamed some more.
Whatever had been behind me was gone. I knew it the second it left, because the room suddenly warmed up. I had not realized it had been so cold. Probably I had been too caught up in the moment. The temperature now was like a sauna in comparison.
I looked around frantically. I examined the walls, the ceiling, brushed back the shower curtain, peered carefully behind the toilet. There was nothing. I sat there on the floor for a while, waiting for the shadow and the monster to return. My skin crawled, thinking of that leathery hand on my mouth, the tongue leaving saliva on my neck.
If I had been doing coke, I could have chalked it up to a hallucination. But I’d been clean. I’d had a few beers, but at that moment I was pretty lucid. I was certainly more lucid than the guy on the floor.
I had forgotten about him, actually. I looked at my phone, which had fallen on the floor during my encounter with the shadow, and I picked it up. I dialed 911, told them what had happened, then left. The next morning half a dozen people were looking at drug charges in addition to underage drinking.
The guy that I found? He recovered. I think after that he didn’t go to any more parties. I don’t blame him. His blood alcohol content was .35, if I remember correctly. He should have been dead.
I didn’t go to many other parties, but for a different reason. My name had not been used in the paper, so my mom didn’t know. There was no pressure from her or anyone else, least of all the police, who chastised me but were happy that I did the right thing. No, it was the shadow that stopped me. I didn’t want to be in a place where everyone was drunk or coked out again, because if I was that shadow could return and probably kill me. I’m certain that it left because it thought others would find it. It was waiting for a time when I was alone.
Much better to stay home, in the safety of the dorms, with my two other roommates and the dozen others that were within earshot and sober. Much better to forget what had happened, chalk it up to stress or a laced drink, and go on with my life as I had before.
Thing is, it’s never that simple. I wasn’t able to forget about the monster, because that wasn’t the last time I saw it.
\*
My roommates were out, and I was by myself. That was the first mistake. Jason had gone to a D&D game. Richard had been invited to a party by one of the football players, somehow. He’s not athletic, not particularly impressive in any way, but he’s chill as hell. Everyone is his friend, which is probably how he got invited.
I wasn’t doing much. I was not alone, either. There were people on either side of my room, behind the walls, guys who were probably jerking off or playing video games. Me? I was reading a book. I know, not exactly what you would expect from someone my age. But I like reading. I especially like Stephen King (which may have been the wrong thing to read at that moment), and that’s what I was reading when I heard the noise.
I didn’t react to it. I figured someone was outside. We lived in suites, where four or five rooms shared a semi-private bathroom. It was a hell of a lot better than the bathrooms in other dorms, which were set up for entire floors. Here you could have some privacy.
The bathroom door closed. There was a loud grunt, then a plop. I sighed. It was probably Randolph. He takes the largest shits of anyone I have ever known. He can sit there for twenty minutes and keep dropping them. Usually we have to use the plunger or call maintenance when that happens. That night, though, would be different.
He gave out a yelp, and then I heard the door slam. I looked up. My door was partially closed, so I walked over to open it, and that’s when I saw him. He was slumped over on the toilet.
I ran over to him, ignored the penis in his hands, and checked for a pulse. He seemed fine. There were no wounds on him. He hadn’t moved, either, had obviously passed out on the seat. So how had the door been flung open?
I felt it again. The hand. It was on my arm this time. I would have let out a scream had it not clamped down. It felt like my bones were being grinded together. The pain was so immense that my vision flickered, and I could only whimper.
I was thrown back into my room. Somehow, I landed on my bed. Then I saw it. The monster was there, standing in the doorway. Perhaps demon is a better word. It was tall, maybe seven or eight feet, and it was completely black. I don’t mean black as in a black laptop or shirt or an xbox. This thing defied logic. It seemed to be so dark that light did nothing to illuminate it.
It had horns, antler-like but distinct in that they came from the side of its head and were not very long. The eyes were the worst. They were coal-black, with tinges of red where white should have been. And they were looking straight at me.
I did scream then. Someone said something in an adjacent room. The demon’s head whipped to the side unnaturally, like a kid whipping a pool noodle, and then it scrambled into the ceiling. Yeah, you read that right. It went into the ceiling, climbed up the walls like a drugged-up lizard and just phased through the tiles.
I didn’t move until the RA came over. He noticed Randolph first. Surprisingly, he did not make any snide remarks about Randolph’s dick. He called campus police before asking me what had happened. I told him. I asked if I would be in trouble. He said no way, because I obviously had not hurt Randolph. What had happened to him was a mystery.
Well, until the police arrived. They took him in, and I heard that he tested positive for MDMA. Ecstasy. I had not known him to be the druggie type. I mean, most college students experiment, but doing it in the dorm? It was asking for trouble. And Randolph was not stupid. He was a lot smarter than me, got a single B first semester and didn’t have to study as hard as most of us.
I wished he had been awake to see the demon. If he had been, of course, I suspect the demon would not have showed. It seemed to be fixated on me and me alone. It did not want to be seen by others. That was a comfort, I suppose, if not downright terrifying. There would be moments, I was sure, where I was forced to be alone. In the dorm or at a party or in a bathroom between classes… forgive me for the cliché, but the possibilities were endless.
So I told my roommates about what had happened. They didn’t get back until late that night, well after I had gone to sleep. I don’t know how I did. I guess I’m a heavy sleeper, is all. You kind of have to be if you want any rest in a dorm, at least one as rowdy as ours can get.
None of us had classes the next morning. Jason was skeptical, as he should have been. If he had told me about monsters and demons, I wouldn’t have believed him. Richard was more open to the idea, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me to chill out. I was too stressed, he said. Did I need to talk about what had happened last semester?
“It has nothing to do with that,” I snapped.
He raised his hands. “Hey, dude, don’t yell at me. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah,” I told him. “I know.”
“Then listen to me, man. You need to take a breather. When’s the last time you went to a party? Hey, you know what, I’ve got the perfect idea. I met this girl last night. Super hot and friendly. She’s your type. I think-“
“I’m not looking for a hookup,” I said flatly.
“What? You’re gonna turn down sex?”
I stared at him, and I think he finally got the message. He shut up.
“I have an idea,” Jason said. “What if we set up surveillance? I know a place where we can get hidden cameras. It’s not far from campus. I’ll get them after class Friday. If it doesn’t like being watched, like you say, then it shouldn’t bother you again.”
I knew Jason didn’t believe me. Still, the fact that he wanted to ease my nerves meant a lot. He’s not the most outgoing kind of guy. He’s a nerd, a chemistry student with a passion for chemistry and nothing else. He’s involved in academic extracurriculars only. I think he’s dated before, but I never learned the details. He doesn’t talk about girls. I only know that there’s this one girl in my English class, Jessica, who says he’s a creep.
We stuck to the plan. It wasn’t foolproof- I would find myself alone outside of the dorm eventually- but it was good enough. As it turned out, I would be by myself Saturday morning. Jason had a club meeting that for some reason had not been held during the week, and Richard was going on a date. He has unconventional good looks- long black hair, brown eyes, thin beard with just the right shape- and he’s smooth. Like, more smooth than should be humanly possible. He’s chill around us and chiller around girls, like he’s known them forever. They love that about him, how genuine he can be.
I begged one of them to stay. Jason told me, understandably, that he couldn’t miss the meeting. Richard was not about to ghost the girl he had been building a relationship with for the past month. Jason said I could always call for the RA or other guys in the dorm. I figured he was right. I also figured I didn’t want the demon to show up at all. Screw proving it to my roommates- I just wanted it to go away.
It didn’t appear until two hours after Jason left. Richard had already been gone for a while, had probably made his way back to the girl’s room. I heard it before I saw it. The demon made a slithering sound when it walked. I had not noticed before because it always appeared, never really moved across the room.
I looked up. You’d think seeing it two times before would make it less scary. You’d be wrong. Having a seven-foot, black-skinned behemoth with antlers and red eyes stand over you, it’s just too much. I screamed like a girl. I guess that time it didn’t get close enough to shut me up.
Its head darted toward the door, and for some reason I took my eyes off the thing. Jason was standing there with his backpack in his hand. His jaw had dropped so far open I thought he would shriek like one of those possessed people in horror movies. The demon skittered up the wall and through the ceiling.
We looked at each other for a while, neither of us speaking. He was still holding his backpack in one hand. I was halfway out of my chair, frozen, ready to spring up at the sight of another monster. Finally he dropped his backpack, and I fell into my seat.
“What the fuck was that?” Jason said. His words startled me. I almost never heard him swear.
“It’s what I told you about,” I said. Even as I spoke, Jason was climbing on the bed, reaching for one of the cameras, taking it down and hooking it up to his laptop. “Now you believe me?”
“I think I have to,” he said, laughing nervously. “Unless we’re both insane.”
He tinkered with his laptop for a while. When he started cursing, I walked over and asked what the problem was. He just pointed to the screen. I looked and saw the timestamp in the bottom left corner. Twenty minutes ago, about when he had walked in and saw the demon. The room was empty. Then I saw him appear in the doorway, flabbergasted, before climbing on the bed and taking down the camera. The footage ended there.
“It didn’t show up,” I said.
“We’re both crazy, after all,” he told me.
“No, we’re not. Think about it. Would a demon want to show itself? This is the first time someone else has seen it. If you hadn’t walked in when you did, I doubt you would have ever gotten your proof.”
He rubbed his chin. “You might be right.”
“You can’t tell me you think that was a hallucination. I told you about it earlier this week. How the hell do you explain seeing what I had already seen?”
“Yeah,” Jason sighed. “I just was hoping it wasn’t real.”
We talked about it for a while. He wanted to know exactly what had happened at the party. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, but I told him anyways. There was no harm in sharing. Besides, I wanted to tell someone. I had only mentioned the demon in vague details when I had first seen it. Telling the whole story, about how it had emerged from a shadow and almost suffocated me to death, that would have been a red flag for sure. Jason would have referred me to the counseling office.
We waited for Richard to get home. When he did, he was drunk on ecstasy or alcohol or both. I don’t mean the drug ecstasy, either. He was grinning stupidly, and I was sure he’d have some wild sex story to talk about. Before he could share, Jason started explaining rapidly what had happened, and he sobered up fast.
*
Richard hadn’t been skeptical from the start. Hearing Jason talk about the demon only made him more convinced. He wanted to summon it immediately and fight.
“We’ll be killed,” I told him.
“Nah,” he said. “I can call in some of my buddies. I think one of them, that football player that lives off campus? I think he has a gun.”
“Jesus, Rich,” Jason said. “You want to bring a gun into the dorm?”
He shrugged. “Would they blame us if we were hunting a demon?”
“Yes, they would,” I told him. “There are no guns allowed. Besides, the thing didn’t show up on camera.”
“Oh. Right.”
We hinged on a plan that admittedly had more flaws than a third-grade essay. Jason did some research. He had to go through the deep web, which I know nothing about, and he found some information. First, he determined that, from my description, the demon supposedly took away men’s fertility.
Had it killed my father?
I didn’t want to think about that. It hardly mattered what had happened, because the past would not change.
We didn’t really find anything on how to kill the demon. Jason had a few suggestions based on the show Supernatural, but I shot those down. I figured a fictional series would know nothing about real life. Unless those were real, he told me. I’d seen a little of the show myself, and I insisted that what I had seen was very different than a demon occupying a human host.
In the end, we had no idea what the hell we were doing. We just made a conglomeration of different precautions. Jason bought some salt, Richard brought a hunting knife (that, unlike a gun, might not get me expelled), I asked around and found out that most of my friends found me crazy. I understood. If one of them had come to me asking about demons, I would have acted the same.
Richard also asked some of his friends for help. Somehow, they believed him. I’m not sure if it’s because of Richard’s charisma or because he never lies or both. Whatever the case, he actually found someone who claimed to know a thing or two.
She was an old woman, and she met with Richard during the week. He came back and told us that the demon took the fertility of older men, then killed them. I asked why it was stalking me. He said they did not like leaving any descendants.
I think that’s when I realized: this thing had been hunting my dad. It seemed so obvious now. There are many, many people in the world that purposefully have one child. My parents, though? I knew immediately what had happened. This demon had stalked my dad. It had killed him, too, and now it, as Richard had said, wanted to finish the job.
That was when I stopped caring. I didn’t mind that what we were doing was crazy. I didn’t mind the possibility of a horrible death, because it was quite likely given our meager preparations. I was dead anyways, and that knowledge made me more confident in what we were doing, as strange as it may sound.
After my dad died, I was never angry. My mom was, for sure; she blamed the police for botching the investigation, when in fact there was absolutely no evidence for them to use. I had understood. My dad had been murdered, yes, but without a perpetrator I had not been able to direct any anger I might have felt.
Now it was different. I wanted to confront this demon and rip its eyes from its sockets. I wanted to send it back to Hell, or send it there for the first time if it had never visited, and let it suffer for all eternity. I couldn’t know if my dad was the only victim. He probably hadn’t been. Most of the time, the demon tended to pray on men that had no children.
I’m not sure how it made a mistake with me. I just knew that the mistake would be its last.
*
I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by salt, holding a knife and a bottle of holy water with Jason and Richard waiting down the hall. They had closed the door, and to make themselves inconspicuous they were pretending to work on homework. In reality, they were waiting for me to call for help, if I needed it. I suspected I would.
Richard had dug deeper into his network of friends. He had spoken to a mother of a friend of a friend who owned an antique shop. She apparently owned a ceremonial dagger from the Middle Ages. She allowed him to borrow it for a price, so long as he brought it back in good condition. I don’t think she knew what we were using it for.
I felt the demon before I saw it. The room grew cold. I don’t mean chilly, I mean cold, like those walk-in freezers. Jason likened it to a cold room he had used during research. I don’t know anything about those, but maybe the analogy is useful for someone else.
It still scared me. The tall black figure with its truncated antlers was so unnatural, I figured I would never get used to seeing it. When it appeared in front of me and reached out a hand- I noticed now that the hand was covered in dry, cracked, human skin- I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I reached out my knife and stabbed it in the arm.
It didn’t flinch. The hand kept moving and grasped my neck. I could feel the dry skin shed and fall down the front of my shirt. I wanted to gag. The roughness of the hand drew blood. Instead of freezing up, I managed to open my bottle of holy water and toss it.
That did something. The demon let out this whine that I can liken only to an electronic device. It backed up, and I tossed more water on its face. The skin started to melt. I thought I had succeeded, but then bone began to surface from beneath, forming what looked like a grinning animal skull that was gnashing its teeth.
I screamed then. Richard burst into the room and threw his knife. Somehow it landed in the demon’s chest. That’s what did it, I think. It screamed so loud I thought I’d lose my hearing. My ears rang, and Richard was saying something to me, but my attention was fixated on the center of the room. The demon had tripped over a particularly large pile of salt. It was melting, taking the floor with it, like we had dropped a bottle of acid. There was a hole next to my bed.
I ignored what he and Jason were saying. I kept my eyes on the floor, watching the hole widen. It stopped, and when I finally turned towards my roommates, an RA was staring at us through the open doorway, frozen in place, fixated on the same thing that I had been.
He must have also noticed the antlers next to the hole.
*
The official report said nothing. It could not determine what had happened in the room. The RA didn’t believe our story. No other explanations emerged, though. I was told that no acid could eat through the floor as quickly as the demon’s remains had. Thank God Jason still had cameras up, because they showed exactly what had happened, though without the demon it just showed a hole opening up in the carpet.
Richard lost the knife and had to fork over a whopping two thousand dollars. He told us it was a bargain. The item had been priceless, most likely, and the woman could have bankrupted him for losing it.
I haven’t been haunted by anything since that incident freshman year. I started going to parties again. Jason moved on, pretending that none of it had happened, but Richard had a fantastic story to share with people. Most didn’t believe him. Some egged him on. A choice few took what he said too seriously, offering him other demon-hunting supplies. He laughed them off, saying the problem had been dealt with, so they instead came to me and explained the seriousness of my situation. I shook them off, too. What was I supposed to do? Start stockpiling ceremonial weapons and holy water?
I never told my mom. She wouldn’t have believed me. She didn’t hear about what had happened in the room, either. The footage showed us doing nothing, only me staring at a bunch of salt as it started dissolving the floor. None of us got in trouble. They didn’t even care that I had a knife sticking out of the wall. I guess they were too preoccupied with the rest of the scene.
I wish I could give you some dramatic conclusion, a fight that lasted for hours or an epic chase. On second thought, I’m glad I can’t describe that, but the truth is that what happened was pretty simple. I tossed some water and Richard threw a knife. That was it. The whole thing took thirty seconds at most.
It seems that most things in life are anticlimactic. An exciting movie, a first date, graduation- once it’s over, you’re left with a certain emptiness, like whatever you just did shouldn’t have ended so quickly. They say time flies (I hate that cliché), but it doesn’t. What happens is we expect things to be greater than they really are. We imagine some grand outcome, beyond what reality can provide us, and it almost never goes that way.
I can’t know for sure that I will be safe for the rest of my life. I only know that I’ve gotten through college unscathed so far. If there is another encounter, it won’t end well, because I won’t be prepared this time. It will be different, surely, a more dangerous monster or just a surprise attack when I least expect it. I definitely won’t write another story about it, because I’ll probably be dead.
If you hear about some university kid that dropped dead of a heart attack or washed up in a river, it will probably be me.
submitted by dogeman87 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 21:20 ThrowRAyikesyikes I (21F) think I lied to my boyfriend (24M) when I told him I was in love with him

Hi. I'm a senior in college. I have a boyfriend (24M), and our relationship started after over a year of FWB, but it's complicated. We started as strictly FWB, and I had a brief crush on him, which I told him. He turned me down, and we moved on. We started to get really romantic with one another, to the point that we would tell each other that we loved them, and essentially acted like we were dating without the label. I didn't have feelings, though, at that point- we were best friends with benefits. He confessed that he had feelings as well a couple of months ago, where I then turned him down. I didn't want to ruin what was safe for us.
However, throughout this entire thing I would have a crisis any time that he talked about other girls, since we weren't exclusive. I would text my best friend in tears, convinced he was going to leave me. But the most recent time it happened, I broke down and told him what I was feeling. I was severely depressed for the next few days, which is something that has happened any time I get into a relationship. I tell them, and then my brain just absolutely attacks me and I'm confined to my bed for days. I have something wrong with me mentally, but I've never been formally diagnosed with anything, so I'd hate to say I'm depressed or something just to have something to blame it on.
But I digress. After I confessed, he told me he felt the same, and we started dating. It sounds hunky-dory, but I don't think I actually love him. Not yet, anyways. This is the thing. In every single one of my relationships after my first one in like, seventh grade, I get brief flashes of feelings, convince myself I like them, and then we're dating. That's when I decide to love them, and eventually I convince myself I do love them, and the feelings start to be real. It's never organically happened, and I'm scared that it means that I can't just fall in love with someone, and that I'm just lying to him when I tell him I love him until I Stockholm Syndrome myself or something.
I don't feel anything but friendship for him right now. Which is what happens at the beginning of any relationship I get into! The deepest feelings I've had happened with my ex-girlfriend, but I only developed those months in, when she started transitioning (She hadn't come out as trans when we started dating). And then my last boyfriend I forced myself to love because it felt like the thing I should do- I was practically living with him after weeks of dating to get out of my housing situation then, and the friend group I was part of at the time was mad that we were dating, so I felt like I had to double down.
I'm trying to figure out what I'm asking. I don't want to hurt him, and a friend I've asked says that it's cruel to play along like this when I don't actually have the feelings. I guess, am I cruel for not loving him yet but telling him I do? I know I'll learn to actually love him, I've already decided that. He's just one of the sweetest boys I've ever met, and he's taking us so seriously, that I don't want to fuck this up. This probably reads like a mess. Thank you for reading.
submitted by ThrowRAyikesyikes to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 22:07 FIygirI Getting into relationship right after long diatance breakup

Hi (F16) USA. Recently i had broken up with my long distance bf (18M) Egypt, from being 7 months together. I believe it was really toxic but I just didnt notice at the time. We broke up about 3/4 times and I was actually able to finalize the breakup 3 days ago. We were also broken up for like 3/4 weeks before this, I just didnt make myself clear enough that it was actually over. He still wanted to talk to me, but everytime we talked, we would always fight, or he would blame me or yell at me. I ended up blocking him multiple times because he drained the life out of me every single day. I eventually had to talk to him though because he kept trying to contact me through all my friends or kept finding and texting people who knew me, trying to get a hold of me.
I just wanted to get away so bad from him. He was too much to handle, this sorta caused me to look into new people around my area instead of across the dang world.
I eventually ended up meeting someone close. Were borh seniors in highschool and we relate on alot of things. He actually made me feel happy and he only lived an hour away from me. We talk everyday and he doesnt make me feel shitty. We kinda related on things that happened in our past and we clicked instantly id say.
We talked for a week and a half and he already wanted to date? Which was off a little.
I was already like no because its only been i week but I was tempted because I really liked him. I just had got out of a bad relationship and i was unsure if i should get in another one immediately but I did. Which kinda has me thinking now that im with him..
I dont know what I should do really because I do not wanna break up with him at all. But I dont think im ready to be with him right now because im still dwelling on my terrible past relationship, while with him. We also talked about it and I felt bad because I shouldnt even be bringing this onto him. Its about me and him, not me and my ex.
I really like this guy so much i just dont know what to do really..
If anyone could leave advice id really appreciate it, thanks.
submitted by FIygirI to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 22:06 FIygirI Getting into relationship right after breakup

Hi (F16) USA. Recently i had broken up with my long distance bf (18M) Egypt, from being 7 months together. I believe it was really toxic but I just didnt notice at the time. We broke up about 3/4 times and I was actually able to finalize the breakup 3 days ago. We were also broken up for like 3/4 weeks before this, I just didnt make myself clear enough that it was actually over. He still wanted to talk to me, but everytime we talked, we would always fight, or he would blame me or yell at me. I ended up blocking him multiple times because he drained the life out of me every single day. I eventually had to talk to him though because he kept trying to contact me through all my friends or kept finding and texting people who knew me, trying to get a hold of me.
I just wanted to get away so bad from him. He was too much to handle, this sorta caused me to look into new people around my area instead of across the dang world.
I eventually ended up meeting someone close. Were borh seniors in highschool and we relate on alot of things. He actually made me feel happy and he only lived an hour away from me. We talk everyday and he doesnt make me feel shitty. We kinda related on things that happened in our past and we clicked instantly id say.
We talked for a week and a half and he already wanted to date? Which was off a little.
I was already like no because its only been i week but I was tempted because I really liked him. I just had got out of a bad relationship and i was unsure if i should get in another one immediately but I did. Which kinda has me thinking now that im with him..
I dont know what I should do really because I do not wanna break up with him at all. But I dont think im ready to be with him right now because im still dwelling on my terrible past relationship, while with him. We also talked about it and I felt bad because I shouldnt even be bringing this onto him. Its about me and him, not me and my ex.
I really like this guy so much i just dont know what to do really..
If anyone could leave advice id really appreciate it, thanks.
submitted by FIygirI to LDR [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 22:04 FIygirI Getting right into a relationship after long distance breakup

Hi (F16) USA. Recently i had broken up with my long distance bf (18M) Egypt, from being 7 months together. I believe it was really toxic but I just didnt notice at the time. We broke up about 3/4 times and I was actually able to finalize the breakup 3 days ago. We were also broken up for like 3/4 weeks before this, I just didnt make myself clear enough that it was actually over. He still wanted to talk to me, but everytime we talked, we would always fight, or he would blame me or yell at me. I ended up blocking him multiple times because he drained the life out of me every single day. I eventually had to talk to him though because he kept trying to contact me through all my friends or kept finding and texting people who knew me, trying to get a hold of me.
I just wanted to get away so bad from him. He was too much to handle, this sorta caused me to look into new people around my area instead of across the dang world.
I eventually ended up meeting someone close. Were borh seniors in highschool and we relate on alot of things. He actually made me feel happy and he only lived an hour away from me. We talk everyday and he doesnt make me feel shitty. We kinda related on things that happened in our past and we clicked instantly id say.
We talked for a week and a half and he already wanted to date? Which was off a little.
I was already like no because its only been i week but I was tempted because I really liked him. I just had got out of a bad relationship and i was unsure if i should get in another one immediately but I did. Which kinda has me thinking now that im with him..
I dont know what I should do really because I do not wanna break up with him at all. But I dont think im ready to be with him right now because im still dwelling on my terrible past relationship, while with him. We also talked about it and I felt bad because I shouldnt even be bringing this onto him. Its about me and him, not me and my ex.
I really like this guy so much i just dont know what to do really..
If anyone could leave advice id really appreciate it, thanks.
submitted by FIygirI to LongDistance [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 07:45 slatheryslab Best friend [20M] friend-dumped me[20F] months ago and I can’t move on.

So Matt and I became immediate best friends when we were twelve years old. I saw him in science class and immediately I said “this ginger is going to be my BEST friend” and that’s exactly what happened. For the next five years of school, we were each other’s rocks. We could rely on each other to always be there, we could spill all our secrets, be ugly, and everything that best friends do. He also came and visited me when I moved 2.5hrs away for college my freshman year. I could go on about just how strong of a friendship we had, but I’ll spare you. I never had feelings for him and he never had feelings for me; this was something we made clear to each other and to everyone else the entire duration of our friendship.
Some background: Matt is the type of guy who is a people pleaser. He will agree with what you say to avoid any conflict. He has a habit of getting into relationships and icing everyone else out. The first time it was a serious issue was our senior year. He was dating this girl who just had to be involved in absolutely everything. Any time I needed to talk to my best friend about my struggles at home, she had to be a part of the conversation. Matt and I could not hangout during this time. Eventually, they broke up and we all got our beloved Matt back. He also has a hero complex, where he thinks he needs to save or fix whatever broken person is clinging to him (I can only assume this is why he was my friend for so long, ya girl had some ISSUES. He talked me out of a lot).
The situation now: Last fall he started dating this girl, we’ll call her Anna. Anna went to middle school with me for a semester and she was nice then, so I figured she’d be nice now. This was not the case. We had her over for a night of drinking with Matt and three of our other best friends. She took anxiety meds, slammed two energy drinks, and then drank svedka straight out of the bottle. As you could guess.. she gets very ill, very fast. Eventually Matt calls me into the bathroom and says Anna is requesting me (I was the only other girl). She was bare naked, puking her brains out. While I was in there supporting her, she started to swirl her puke around in the toilet with her hand (I know, yikes). Then she touches her hair. Then I try to get her to drink water.. she promises to do it, but then pours it all over the floor while maintaining eye contact to mock me. At this point, she’s covered in puke and super sick. We decide she needs a bath, I call Matt back in and make him help her with that. The rest of the night consisted of a few more very odd events with her, and me making sure she had a pulse and was breathing. That night, Matt said he was going to break up with her the following weekend. Not only was this behavior outrageous of her, but she bragged about her body count in-front of her new boyfriend, bragged about giving head for McDonald’s, bragged about drunk driving, and told me (a stranger) all of her most personal problems while she was puking (I mean so personal that you maybe wouldn’t even tell ANYONE about them). Matt had recognized these traits to be very toxic, and had said he was going to end it. Emphasis on the “had said”... I told a good handful of people about this night, because it was a crazy story and I was thinking two things. 1) this is bizarre that this happened to my best friend. & 2) I can be sharing this info because they’ll be breaking up (they were only together 2 weeks). They did not ever break up. A couple weeks later, we had a friend intervention for Matt, and it only made him more distant.
Over the next months, he hungout with us less and less until he was practically a ghost. I eventually called him out on it, I was incredibly hurt that my best friend of seven years could ghost me like this, for a girl. We finally get together for lunch and he says she heard that I was telling people about the night and that she’s super uncomfortable with me. He also explains that he’s been working a lot so it’s hard to hangout with friends, and that he’s sorry and he’ll try better.
Two weeks later, during one of my 24 hour shifts, I get a text late at night from Matt saying “I just don’t think we can have a friendship anymore. No hard feelings, we can be civil in groups, we just can’t be friends”. I immediately asked him why and he answers with “that’s just how I feel”. I am obviously in a blubber of tears at this point. I sent many texts explaining why this was so hurtful to me. I got no responses. A week or two later I wrote him a five page letter and had a friend deliver it. I never heard back about it, and I can assume he threw it in the trash. Basically the letter reminded him of all the good times and our friendship and I also insinuated that he is cutting me off because his girlfriend does not like me. No response. I would never hear from him ever again from this point forward. I sent many texts, snapchats, letters, anything to reach him. Eventually, I’ve ended up blocked on all platforms.
What I need advice on: I CANNOT for the LIFE of me get over this grief. This happened in late March, and it’s already almost October. Half a year has gone by. Yet I am saddened every time I think of him. When I see him in public (which is rare, but I do run into him at the occasional car meet), we avoid each other. I then spend the rest of the day anxious, sad, and broken up over the situation. I just want to know how to move on. Or how to get out of the mindset that the only one at fault is his girlfriend. I know a huge chunk is me, for talking smack. I know the biggest chunk is him for being able to even do this to me. But why can’t I just understand that? There’s such a difference between knowing & understanding. Anyway, I just need help moving on. This is by far the worst heart break I have ever experienced, and I have been dumped, abused, and abandoned by many.
TL;DR! best friend of 7 years gets gf who is crazy and hates me, so best friend ghosts me completely and I now cannot get over it.
EDIT//: thank you to everyone who responded. Every single response was appreciated. The fresh perspectives really forced me to reflect and look more inward, and I’ve realized I was too attached and I was incredibly mean in the situation. I didn’t need to share her business with everyone, and I can’t believe I didn’t think that wouldn’t make my friend hate me. Anyway, I over it all now, I am choosing to move forward with life and blah blah blah. & Thanks everyone also for the empathetic comments, I know I messed up, but the validation is appreciated because all feelings are valid.
submitted by slatheryslab to relationships [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 05:18 HelicopterPrior420 Its been over a year since we broke up

I still can't get over her...
Back in the middle of high school senior year, two years ago, I started dating this absolutely stunning chick after knowing her for about a month. I grew to genuinely love her after only a few weeks and much quicker than I thought, I completely fell in love with her. I was the happiest version of myself ever when I was with her. Never had a fight - a literal perfect relationship. She was my best friend, my confidant, and the one who I hoped I would spend the rest of my life with. A classic fairytale love story. Four months after we started dating, we broke up because I was leaving for college - she is two years younger so at the time she had just finished her sophomore year of high school.
It was extremely hard. I have never regretted anything more in my life. That night that I left, I was half-stoked and half-completely depressed. I did not cry because, well, I have this problem where I can't cry no matter how hard I try. I was stoked because I could go to college with the freedom of doing whatever I wanted which I later learned is not what I want. I was depressed because my girlfriend and I agreed to break up with each other because we did not want to do long distance, the biggest mistake of my life.
Anyways, we continued talking during my first few months of college. Halfway through the school year, we stopped talking here and there for a week to a few weeks at a time, trying to get over each other. During this time, she would cry her heart out and I would be out partying and hooking up with other girls. I realize now that as she was letting go and moving on with the pain, I was blocking the pain out and suppressing it by distracting myself with other girls.
Through the next 6 months after the breakup, every time I would come visit home, we would have sex. It kept going like this until I found myself only talking to her because of lust, not love. She started to see another guy. She told me they were just hooking up which, at the time, irritated me but did not make me angry because I was sort of doing the same thing. After about a month of her seeing the other guy, we stopped talking. I stopped hooking up with other girls because I got extremely sad. That is the last time we talked. That was about 4 months ago.
I believe I am depressed as of this point. For the past 3 months, every single day I think about her. I remember every single memory as vividly as it had happened. The most simple way to put it that I can think of is this: I just want to feel as happy as I did when I was dating her, holding her in my arms, and able to call her mine. From the time I wake up, to the time I fall asleep, there is not 10 minutes where I do not think about her. I need help getting over her (or getting back together?).
What has pushed me to write this post, my first ever reddit post, was that I actually called her on the phone today. It was the first time we have talked in months - it has now been a year and a month since we have broken up. We had a thirty minute phone call where she explained that she was dating the same person she had started to see when we stopped talking a few months prior. She told me that he was the only option for her to date since she was the only decent guy she found. I asked her what about me? (At the time that this was happening, I was trying to win her back). She said she had lost feelings.
What strikes me as crazy is that I still completely love her and want to be with her. She has completely moved on, even though she used to say that we will be together in the future and she will always love me forever. She doesn't anymore.
I am making this post to let my thoughts go, I can tell about this story for another year 20 paragraphs but, for your sake, I will cut it short. The moral of the story is that I don't have a single clue what to do. I want to get back together with her, be able to call her mine, and just obtain that same level of happiness. I want to do this because no other girl has made me feel the same as she did, both emotionally and physically. I have hooked up with 13 girls since we have broken up but I am still insanely in love with her. I also understand that getting back together with her is very unreasonable but my mind and my heart won't let the idea go. I know that I NEED to get over her, but I have tried every single thing I could find on the internet to no prevail.
Reddit, please help.
TLDR:
I broke up with my ex over a year ago but can't get over her. I don't know if I should keep trying to get back together with her or if I should try to get over her. I have tried everything to get over her but nothing has worked. I find no other girls remotely attractive anymore except her.
submitted by HelicopterPrior420 to BreakUps [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 03:18 themoneyshot1234 Lost my virginity to a hooker... then lied about it.

In high school, had a bad breakup and then got really desperate and ended up losing my virginity to a hooker... Then, for whatever reason, a few months later, my 18yo brain thought it was a good idea to tell a few of my closest friends that I lost my virginity to my senior prom date, who I really only just fooled around with for a few minutes in my car while we waited for her actual bf to pick her up.
It's been over a decade now, so it's obviously not a big deal and I really don't care all that much anymore, but every once in a while when we get together, it'll still come up, especially now that I've been single for a while, and I don't know how to feel or react. I've tried to come clean before, but only ended up downplaying what actually happened to make it seem like it was not a big deal. Went from telling them I was a stud to telling them I was a one-pump chump in my own made-up story.
I doubt I'll ever come clean about this so just wanted to get it off my chest here. If you have any advice, send it my way.
submitted by themoneyshot1234 to offmychest [link] [comments]


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