Bubble letter alphabet

Canada’s bank deposit insurance limits being reviewed after SVB collapse, trade group says — https://globalnews.ca/news/9568657/canada-banks-deposit-insurance/
The title of the article is a bit sensationalist, but the key take away is at the bottom:

Despite Canada’s lower deposit insurance cap, analysts have said the U.S. banking crisis is unlikely to spread to the northern neighbor where banks are better regulated and have ample liquidity. CDIC has some 85 members, while FDIC has more than 4,700 institutions.
“Increased protection limits would send Canadians a strong signal about the stability of the financial system while greatly reducing any concern about the damage a ‘run on the bank’ could have on an institution and its depositors,” the Bank and Trust Companies Association said in the letter.

On a personal note, the only concern I have is their exposure to mortgage defaults if the housing bubble pops from higher interest rate pressure.
Also, I'm just a random redditor, don't take what I post as gospel, I am not trying to convey an absolutist stance or message here.
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I recently used Soundiiz to transfer a large chillout playlist (1,500 plus songs) from Spotify to YTM. The playlist is pretty much all there and Soundiiz placed the songs in the equivalent YTM playlist in alphabetical order. But when I use shuffle to playback the playlist, every song that it plays only comes from songs in the playlist that start with letters from C to F. No matter how many times I click on next song, It only jumps to a song that is within that letter range. Any song that starts with a letter from outside that range is not played. I have all these lovely songs in the playlist, and I am only hearing shuffled playback from a small range within the entire playlist. Is this normal YTM behaviour?
EDIT - I just manually chose a song commencing with S and then hit shuffle, and now it is shuffling in the rage of the letter Q to U. It is ignoring the other songs in the playlist. It would appear that YTM cannot shuffle large playlists, which is a bummer
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Hey, guys first wanted to say, that anyone seeing this who helped guide me through one of the worst days of my life, yesterday I appreciate you much. Now to the report. This went down 2 weeks ago on a Wednesday. I picked up the stuff after skiing around my local ski resort. When I arrived home I got a shower and dropped around 6-7g out of the total 9 gs I picked up in around half a glass of lemon juice. I hid them in the back of my closet and readied for bed. Did the normal get a shower got in some comfy clothes tidied up my room for the trip gobbled down the shrooms which were true albino teachers and readied up for bed. I just went to bed to binge some yt until the first effects of the shroomz started to kick in. In the beginning, it was normal. The normal morphing of objects and the wiggling of letters. Very soon all time would be lost in everlasting space. I soon found myself rambling random names and oddly saying DMT many times out loud. I was flailing from side to side of my bed and even more oddly I remember eating my airpod which at the moment I thought I did even though I didn't. What I did do was start biting on my phone for some reason at this point I was not even able to enjoy any such patterns or geometry but I was sheerly indulged in the complete and utter insanity of the mushrooms. Now to say I was not having a good time at this moment would be a lie. At this time I felt grounded. I had odd visions of communicating with celebrities and everyone I wanted. I felt like I could communicate with anyone regardless of their status low or high. It felt like no one was better or worse than anyone or anything. After these short glimpses started the real insanity. I started to relive some of my best memories of getting caught in the past and traveling to some of the best moments I ever lived. This was true bliss it was, on one hand, utter insanity but bliss too. After this, it got only so much worse after I ended up pissing all over my bed. I was so caught up in the moment and was not in my body fully so I guess my body just urinated on its own all over the bottom of my sweatshirt and my bed. The rest of the peak followed suit. Rambling random things, traveling through random dimensions that went right past my memory due to the sheer insanity of the trip, and reliving my past me memories. Then came the come down it was around 3 in the morning mind you I had school the next day. My lock screen was a scenic view of a mountain with plant life. was vigorously moving. As I mentioned, was biting my phone earlier, and with this vigor rotation and pattern of my lock screen, I was thoroughly convinced my phone was shattered fully. I was scared and very worried as I watched the fragments that used to be beautiful turn into a cracked phone screen this paired with the piss all over my bed made me want nothing more than to end my life right then. I prayed to whatever god would listen that I would never take drugs again if he would just spare me from these feelings and end this trip to hell and back. This is all I remember as I promptly passed out and woke up. My phone luckily only has one small shatter on the side hardly noticeable. I have no clue why I believed it was so badly shattered at the moment. After this, I scrubbed the piss off my bed and went on to school. Now when I tell you the morning was bad, I mean it was really bad. My usually bubbly self willing to talk to anyone and crack jokes at anything was reserved for a sheer shell of what I once was. I felt dead, literally brain fucked, I promised to never do drugs again. Throughout the day I gained a better perspective of what happened and realized it was not that bad.
PART 2- This went down a day later it was Friday I researched taking mushrooms after the trip and decided to go in for round 2 whether it was dumb or smart I gobbled down 3.5g lemon juice and all. background to before this adventure..... I asked my friend to pick a number between 1 and 10 if he got it I would trip. He got it twice in a row at this point I said fuck it gobbled shrooms and puffed my weed. Holly fuck it was amazing.... not many visuals, no huge realizations, and no peak at all. This did not matter because I felt all the love in the world just sheer warmness until I slowly faded into a slumber. It felt amazing. Better than words could describe. I woke up feeling nice and refreshed and better than ever. But anyways this is my story. If you have any insights into this please comment on them because I still struggle to find the trip's true meaning. Ima leaves this post off on the one thing I could gather from the trips. If you are men to other people, in turn, you are being mean to your soul because we all share the same soul and presence in some way shape, or form. Learning this I have tried to be nicer to people so I suppose there is that.

HeadGames is the concept story behind my novel Eternal Convictions.
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PART 1
The sound of people talking was loud in the hallways as men went about their daily business. As background noise it was a confusing jumble that faded to a dull roar, but if one listened closely to individual voices, picking them out of the din, actual conversations could be heard. Deals were being made as men jockeyed for position while rumors spread and gossip was shared. People discussed hopes and dreams as they planned for a better future.
Michael opened his eyes and looked up at the heavy wire mesh of the walls around him. He was in a holding cell in the high security wing of the prison and the constant noise was a welcome change. His own cell was more like a closet where he was hidden away from the world and the only sounds were the constant blowing of the air vents and his own breathing. Occasionally, a guard would rap on his cell door with a night stick as he looked in to make sure Michael was still alive, but even this was rare.
The cell was six feet wide and eight feet long with walls made of solid concrete. The only openings were the steel door he received his meals through and the air vents in the ceiling. He was allowed to leave only if he had a visitor or for one hour of exercise each day in the exercise yard. Some yard, he thought. The exercise yard was actually a twenty by twenty atrium surrounded on all four sides by the walls of the prison. Overhead, steel mesh, not unlike that on the walls around him now, was laid across strong steel beams and welded in place to prevent any chance of escape. Highly unlikely in any event, considering the mesh ceiling was some eighteen feet above the paved ground.
His world had devolved into cold concrete and steel ever since that fine spring day he had gone to the bank. Thinking back, Michael remembered the four long days he had spent in the holding cell of the courthouse waiting for the jury to deliver a verdict. Each morning he was shackled, marched to the courthouse and placed in the holding cell where he waited for the verdict and each evening he was shackled and marched back to his cell at the city jail. His lawyer had been there most of the first day, expecting a quick decision but he was called away on business early in the afternoon.
After that, he would show up in the morning and talk with Michael a while before giving his cell phone number to the court clerk and leaving to do other business as they waited for the outcome. His lawyer was just about to leave on the fourth day when word came a verdict had been reached.
For a brief moment, Michael relived the joy he had felt when he knew there was a verdict. While he was terrified beyond belief that he would be convicted of the crimes he was accused of, he felt sure that God would not let him take the blame. His joy was short lived.
The jury found him guilty of all charges, sentencing him to multiple life sentences to run consecutively. It meant there was no hope for parole, ever, as he would be dead before having served a fraction of the sentence. The judge declared Michael to be a menace to society, incapable of rehabilitation and ordered him to be confined in a maximum security prison.
When it became clear that he would not be free any time soon, Michael authorized his attorney to liquidate what little remained of his assets and place the money in trust to be drawn upon as Michael needed it and to pay for continued attorney fees through the appeals process. Money was of little concern to him now, though. Other than personal toilet articles, he was not allowed to have anything else in his cell other than periodicals and books provided by the prison.
Two men began to scuffle in the hall outside the holding cell and Michael got up from the table to see what was happening. Leaning his forehead against the wire mesh, his vision was relatively unobstructed as he watched the men fight. The guard outside the cell, looked anxiously up the hall as he waited for others to come and separate the men as he was not supposed to leave his position by the gate.
He had never been interested in boxing, nor any other violent sports, but Michael found himself fascinated by the fight and rooting for the man he felt was the underdog. He noticed the thin white stripe on the men’s prison shirts and realized they were trustees, prisoners who are allowed extra privileges for good behavior. He laughed to himself as he realized they were putting their elevated status at risk with this fight, even as he silently cheered them on.
One of them kicked a mop bucket over at the other and Michael turned his face to avoid the spray of soapy water. Looking back at the fight, Michael was aware he was now wet and felt the water running down the mesh to his fingers where he was holding on. It traced small streams down his hands and arms to wet his shirt sleeves, but he didn‘t care.
A surge of electricity caused him to stiffen and Michael wondered what was happening as his vision turned white and he lost all control of his muscles. Even though his legs sagged and he could feel his face contorting, he could not let go of the wire.
“Hey buddy, you alright?” the guard asked him over the sound of the fight.
Michael heard him but could not answer.
“Aw hell. Somebody help me here!” the guard yelled. “I think this guy is getting electrocuted!”
Michael heard the words, but they made no sense as his vision faded to black except for a small pinpoint of white. The pinpoint grew larger and he began to see a face coming closer. The face was laughing cruelly and Michael could only stare in disbelief. Then the vision changed and it was as if he was looking at the bank robbery he had been convicted of from one of the security cameras. He could see himself talking to the girl and the man with the gun as the robbery started. It was as if he was reliving it from outside his own body and Michael wondered if he was dying as he had heard that one’s life flashes before their eyes as they die.
He heard the gate to the cell open and felt a hard shove as someone used something to push him away from the wall. Falling to the ground, his vision cleared immediately and he was confused, but felt fine otherwise. He got to his feet and moved to the chair by the table. The guard was talking to him, but he was thinking about what he had seen and didn’t register the voice.
“Hey buddy, just sit right there while I get a medic,” the guard said as he used his radio to call the infirmary. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Michael heard a familiar voice and looked to see what was happening.
“What’s going on here?” Phillip Johnson asked, looking from Michael to the guard. “Michael, are you alright?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he said quietly.
The guard proceeded to tell Phillip what had happened, speculating that the water from the bucket must have hit the floor outlet and charged the mesh. They were quickly joined by a medic who checked Michael out thoroughly and pronounced him to be fine. It all seemed to happen very fast and Michael wondered what was going on. He was aware of the conversation between the guard and his lawyer, but it made no sense to him. He had lost all sense of time.
When the medic asked him questions, he was apparently giving the right answers but in thinking about it, he couldn’t remember what was said or even what it was about. Sitting there dazed, he watched the medic leave and the guard resume his post outside the door after closing it and locking them within. Then he realized Phillip was talking to him.
“So how have you been, Michael?” Phillip asked as he opened his brief case and took out a legal pad and pen.
Looking at the pad, Michael was reminded of their first meeting in the city jail.
“Not too bad, Phillip,” he said. “My concentration has improved since I don’t have any distractions in my cell.”
Phillip looked at him puzzled for a moment before he realized Michael was being mildly sarcastic. He couldn’t blame him. Being locked up like he was would drive anyone mad with boredom.
“I’m sorry, Michael.” Phillip looked him in the eye. “I wish there was more I could do for you.”
“Well, just get my conviction overturned and I’ll buy you dinner.” Michael smiled as he thought about being free.
“That’s why I’m here, Michael.” Phillip looked grim.
“You got my conviction overturned?” Michael asked.
“No, I’m sorry to say,” Phillip began. “The courts have over ruled your appeal and upheld your conviction.”
“Then let’s get busy filing a new appeal.”
“We have exhausted all of the appeals processes, Michael,” Phillip looked down at his bare notepad. “There is absolutely nothing more I can do except be here if you need me for something else.”
“You mean there are no more appeals, no chance of getting this damn wrongful conviction overturned?” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Phillip, I have been patient throughout this whole ordeal. I’ve been good even when the injustice has driven me so crazy that I actually wanted to resort to violence and now you’re telling me that there is nothing that can be done?”
The guard turned to watch the conversation as he heard what was being said and the tone of Michael’s voice. He had seen inmates go off on their lawyers in the past and waited to see if he would need to intercede.
Michael was aware of the way he sounded and of the guard’s renewed attention. He took several deep breaths to try and calm himself. Phillip had done everything for him. It wasn’t his fault.
“I wish there was something I could do, Michael.”
“I know, Phillip,” Michael looked at him with tears in his eyes. “I have begun to think God hates me.”
Phillip almost wished Michael would turn violent. At least then he could leave here knowing he had tried to help and was rejected. It would be far easier to leave a man he cared nothing for to such a fate, but this was killing him inside. He had come to like Michael very much and understood him to be a kind and gentle soul. There was no doubt in his mind that he had not done the things he was convicted of, but he could do nothing. He felt helpless.
“God doesn’t hate you, Michael,” Phillip said quietly. “As you’ve told me all along, God has a purpose for you and we are not privy to what that purpose is.”
“You know, Phillip,” Michael wiped his face dry with his sleeve. “I always believed and I guess I still do, somewhere deep inside, that God has a plan for all of us and we are but part of some grand design. But for the last two years, as I’ve waited for the appeals process to bear me out, I have seen nothing that could be accomplished by my being taken from the world where I was helping people and placed in a cold concrete and steel box where I have no contact with anyone whatsoever for twenty three hours of each day. How could I serve even the smallest purpose here?”
He looked at Phillip for an answer neither of them had.
“I was always fond of saying that no one is worthless, as they could always serve as an example of what not to do but even that has no meaning here.”
“Michael, when we met, I was skeptical of your story but as I checked it out and found what you were telling me to be true, I learned to not take things only as I saw them.” Phillip put the notepad back in the briefcase. “I have never been a religious man, but watching you through this ordeal has given me hope. You have demonstrated such faith and patience as I never witnessed before and it shows me there is a higher power at work in our lives.”
“Will I see you again, Phillip?” Michael asked. “If I have no reason for legal counsel, will you still visit?”
For the first time in his life, Phillip found he did actually want to return to visit with one of his clients even if his legal services were not needed. Money was not the concern here. He had found something in Michael that had been missing in his life and he felt that, even though he had failed to free an innocent man, he had made a true friend.
“Yes, Michael.” Phillip swallowed hard. “You have given me hope and perhaps even faith. I can’t say when or how often, but I will visit and I will answer any letters you send.”
“Thank you, Phillip.” Michael reached out and squeezed his hand. “For everything.”
There was no need for good bye. Both men had reached an understanding of what they needed from each other and the moment left them filled with emotion that threatened to overwhelm them. Phillip grabbed his briefcase and turned to leave as the guard opened the gate for him.
Michael sat for a few minutes looking at the area around him as he waited for the guard to take him to his cell. It was standard procedure for visitors to clear the holding area so the gates could be secured before prisoners were allowed to move about. There was nothing new to see, but still he studied every detail of his surroundings Once he was back in the cell, there would be nothing to look at or distract him from the endless hours of nothing. He had already read the book he was given so many times he had committed it to memory and there was no telling when he would receive a new one.
“All right, Chaste. Let’s go.” The guard held out his hand to take Michael by the elbow and lead him down the hall.
Michael resigned himself to his fate and trudged along silently until they came to the entrance of his wing and walked on past.
“Where are we going?” he asked, looking around.
“You’ve been transferred to a new wing,” the guard said and continued to lead him.
They seemed to walk forever before coming to a gate where he was halted as the guard on the other side opened it. The guard who was leading him guided Michael through but did not follow. Instead, he pulled the gate shut and locked it as the new guard led him down this new corridor. It had no openings on either side but he could see a small point of light at the very end. As they drew closer, Michael could see that the door actually led outside the building and he wondered just how far he was being transferred.
His senses were assaulted as he stepped outside into the sunlight. For two years he had seen only the sky above the exercise yard and no hint of sun as the large structure of the prison kept the yard in shadows all the time. Now he smelled a wide variety of plants and marveled at how the sun felt on his face. It was like being born anew and Michael let himself revel in it.
He was guided onto an electric cart and driven across the compound. He no longer cared where they were going as he was busy looking at the world. In the distance, he could see the mountains with their snow covered peaks, but he did not let himself sink into despair with thoughts of never being able to go to them. Instead, he studied them and everything else he could see to form images in his mind. Once he was led back indoors, there was no telling when he would set foot outdoors again, if ever.
The cart came to a stop outside the steel door of another building and Michael was led from the cart. For the first time since he had been first arrested, Michael resisted the guard and stopped walking halfway from the cart to the door.
“Let’s go, Chaste,” the guard said menacingly.
“Just a second, buddy.” Michael thought quickly. “Do you think maybe I could have a quick smoke before we go in? I haven’t had one in over two years.”
Michael didn’t smoke, hadn’t for years, but he had seen the cigarettes in the guard’s pocket and knew it would give him ten more precious minutes outside.
“Yeah, sure. Why not.” The guard offered him a cigarette and raised the pack to show a guard in a nearby tower. “I was about to go on break anyway. Now don’t try anything, Chaste. There are guards on the towers around us and this is a shoot to kill zone.”
“I won’t,” Michael said calmly.
He had no intention of trying to escape and, in fact, the thought had never crossed his mind. He sucked at the cigarette as the guard lit it for him and found himself in a violent coughing fit as the acrid smoke seared his throat and lungs. He wondered why people would do this to themselves and claim they even liked it.
“I guess it has been a while, huh.” The guard laughed. “Take it easy. It’ll come back to you.”
It seemed to take forever to get his breathing calmed down but once he did, Michael continued to smoke the cigarette. The taste was nasty, but he did enjoy the light buzz he was getting from the nicotine and decided that this must be what smokers liked about cigarettes. He let the sensation wash over his senses as he looked around, taking in the scenery.
The prison was a very large complex. The fences in the distance looked very small, but he remembered from his arrival that they were at least twenty feet tall and topped with razor wire. The main prison building he had just left was nearly half a mile away but still loomed very large, giving perspective to its size. To the east he could see the yellow fields of the plains stretching away toward Kansas and to the west were the mountains. He seemed to be located in a large bowl as the mountains curved around to encompass part of the north and south.
He took one last drag of the smoke and dropped it to the ground where he crushed it out. The guard had also finished and nodded toward the door. Silently they walked over to the steel door and waited for the guard on the other side to open it. As Michael entered, he noticed a sign beside the door which read “Medical Receiving” and wondered why he was being led through a delivery entrance.
Michael looked around at the holding cell he was placed in after arriving at the new prison building. It was small, about three feet by three feet with a barred door. It was like a broom closet in which a bench had been placed and there was no room to lie down or even stretch his legs unless he stood. He hoped he wouldn’t be in here for long.
Across the hall was a well lit room with medical supplies and an examination table. It was clearly some kind of clinic or infirmary and the open door was directly across from his cell. Occasionally, he would see a nurse enter through a door at the back of the room to do something out of his sight before leaving the way she came. His view was very restricted and he could only see about eight or ten feet to either side of the cell he occupied. He was aware that the air smelled of disinfectant and clean linens.
He recalled his old cell and the silence there. That had been loud compared to this place as there was not even the sound of air being moved mechanically. He could hear his breathing and, though he was calm, it sounded very loud. Listening carefully, he thought he could even hear his own heartbeat but dismissed this, realizing he must be hearing his own pulse in his ears.
Michael thought about his meeting with Phillip and the strange event which happened just before he arrived. The guard said he was electrocuted but, as a technician, Michael had been subjected to many electrical shocks over the years and this was nothing like that. There had been a current running through his body, but it was not electrical in the sense he knew. It was more like his blood was on fire and had grabbed hold of every muscle in his body. The vision of the bank robbery was confusing but, knowing he had been at the bank during the robbery and seen the videos during his trial, he decided he must have been reliving it.
The only logical explanation was that stress from waiting to hear about his appeal had triggered some type of seizure. He remembered how his vision had went all white and then faded to black before he saw the vision. The only thing he couldn’t explain was the man’s face he had seen as it looked like no one he had ever known or could recall seeing.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall and Michael looked to see who was coming. A small man in a white lab coat, who he presumed was a doctor, accompanied by the guard who led him here, stopped in front of his cell.
“Chaste.” The guard spoke evenly, but firm. “The doctor needs to examine you for long term incarceration in this facility. We’re going to go into that room across the hall. Normally I would have to handcuff you, but you’ve been cooperative so far. Can we keep it that way?”
Michael nodded and stood up. “Yeah, thanks.”
The guard opened the gate and allowed Michael to step out. He motioned with his arm to the room across the hall and Michael went where directed.
“Have a seat on that examining table,” the doctor said as he turned to retrieve a cart with medical instruments.
Michael sat on the table, feeling like he would slip off as the white paper covering it moved under him. He looked at the cart the doctor was pushing. There was a blood pressure machine, digital thermometer, a jar of tongue depressors, a box of latex examination gloves and several other items he recognized as general practitioners’ tools. The only thing that seemed out of place was the hypodermic syringe, but the needle was a very small gauge and he decided it must contain a flu shot or something similar.
“Please remove your shirt,” the doctor said as he put on his stethoscope.
Michael did as asked and handed the shirt to the guard who laid it on a chair for him.
For the next thirty minutes, he was poked and prodded and blood was drawn with a much larger syringe he had not noticed behind one of the machines on the cart. He wasn’t afraid of needles, but the large gauge had unsettled him. He watched as it was inserted and a vial was attached to collect his blood. The doctor pressed a gauze pad to the wound when he was finished and instructed Michael to keep it there with his other hand.
As they finished up, Michael heard footsteps in the hall and looked up to see a tall man in a suit enter the room. He was very self confident and moved around looking at things as if he owned them.
“We’re ready, sir,” the doctor said and stepped aside so the man’s view of Michael was unobscured.
“My name is Warden Dempsey, Mr. Chaste.” He looked Michael straight in the eye. “You are here because you were convicted of crimes against society so brutal that a judge deemed rehabilitation impossible and every appeals court which heard your case upheld the decision. There are no more appeals and no chance for you to ever leave this prison during the course of your natural life. Therefore you were transferred here, to me, to be entered into the Eternal Convictions program.”
Michael was already completely aware that he had no chance to ever leave prison, but the cold tone of the Warden drove the fact into him once again like slivers of glass. He knew that there was no escape from this nightmare and hoped at the very least to be treated civilly as he served his sentence. There was no use proclaiming his innocence any more. As the man had said, all appeals were exhausted. He felt as though the Warden’s words had sucked the life from him as the judge’s had when he pronounced his sentence.
“This facility is operated entirely autonomous from the main prison where you have been to this point. Here, there are no visitors, no computers, nor any other contact with the outside world. For all practical intents and purposes, you are deceased. Even the IRS will not contact you here so you may take joy in that fact.” The Warden smiled at his own joke. “What there is, though, is order. I run an orderly prison here with no problems. You have been cooperative thus far and I expect it shall remain so as I have no tolerance for any disobedience. Can I count on you for this, Mr. Chaste?”
Michael looked at the man for a moment and knew immediately that he despised him. Far beyond the fact that he, himself, was a convicted felon and expected to be treated poorly, this man was the type who thought himself above the rest of the world and carried himself as such. Michael respected his position, but not the man.
“Yes sir,” he said quietly.
“Very well,” the Warden continued. “In order to preserve order, we take certain precautionary medical measures to prevent aggression. The doctor is now going to give you an injection to facilitate this.”
Michael was aware the doctor had picked up the small syringe from the cart and was tapping air bubbles from it as he squirted some of the liquid into the air. He held it at the ready, waiting for the order to continue.
“Proceed doctor,” the Warden said and turned to leave. Reaching the door, he turned back as if having forgotten something. “This will be the last time we meet, Mr. Chaste. Please enjoy your stay with us.”
As quickly as he appeared, the Warden was gone and Michael was left to the doctor and guard. He looked from one to the other as if expecting an apology for the Warden’s intrusion, but neither man even changed their expression. It was time for the injection and he made himself relax as the doctor approached.
He felt the needle enter his upper arm and wondered just what he was receiving. The Warden had said it was to prevent aggression and Michael wondered if he was being injected with hormones to inhibit testosterone production or perhaps it was estrogen to enhance his inner calm. He really hoped it was neither as self gratification was one of the only releases he had in prison and he wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of growing breasts as the other guys might take an undesired liking to him.
He had no more than completed this thought and was about to ask what he was injected with when he realized he knew already. His vision blurred and a deep fog began to settle over his mind. Suddenly he was very tired and could feel his entire body relax. As he passed out, Michael realized he had been given a sedative.
Everything seemed to be moving slowly and he couldn’t understand why everything seemed out of place. Michael looked up from the bench where he was working to see his girlfriend coming toward him through the door. She was carrying something that looked like plans and he wondered why as she had never had anything to do with his work. In fact, he had not even seen her since before he began doing electronics work and wondered why she was here, but decided he didn’t care. He was happy to see her.
She laid the plans on his desk and told him to hurry up or they would be late picking up the kids. She seemed upset and he wondered why, while at the same time, he wondered what she was talking about as neither of them had children.
He followed her through the door and into a large area he could only describe as an inner courtyard with driveway passing through it. In the center was a large fountain made of very old white marble and water streamed down from the center in a heavy flow, cascading over terraced ledges to the catch basin which was overgrown with weeds.
Looking around, he realized the landscaping had been long neglected as grass protruded randomly in tall yellowing bunches at joints of the pavestone sidewalks and driveway. The area was surrounded by a red brick wall of some ten feet in height and this also was overgrown with vines and weeds. The mortar seemed to crumble in places and small bunches of plants sprouted from the cracks. In a far corner, a faded white gazebo stood in a shroud of plant life with its grey wood roof shingles covered in moss. Atop at the peak, a wind vane shaped like a rooster pointed it’s scaly green arrow at the gate where the driveway entered. Beyond the gate and along the outside of the brick walls, heavy forest shut out the sun.
“Come on or we’re going to be late,” she called to him. “Mother wants to rebuild this place and has decided to rip out all of the sheetrock in the east wing to make sure the structure is sound.”
He followed her across the courtyard and through a set of double doors, back into the house. He had no idea where they were going or even where they were, but felt the need to continue following.
“This room is going to be the new family room,” she said, walking around a large wooden structure in the middle of the room.
Michael looked down and saw that there was no floor here but rather bare earth with a rough sandy texture. The floor was uneven as well with the outer edges raised where they walked and dipping down in the center under the wood framework. None of this made sense and as he looked at the large structure in the middle of the room, it looked to him like the skeleton of a large boat which had been either built here or unearthed as the building was erected around it. As he walked around the end and saw her moving toward the back, her mother entered through a set of French doors to his left followed closely by several children.
He did not recognize the children and heard her say something about rebuilding the house since her husband had died. In his mind, he knew this wasn’t right as his girlfriend’s mother had passed long before her father and they had lived in a very small house. None of this made any sense, but he suddenly felt an urgent need to talk with his girlfriend, if she would ever stop walking away from him.
“I need for you to talk to me,” he said pleading.
“We have plenty of time to talk. You’re not supposed to be at the prison until Thursday.” She smiled and continued to walk around the framework away from him.
“That’s not right,” he said. “I’m going to be gone before you even realize and I don’t know if I will ever be able to see you again.”
Michael heard the words he was speaking, but had no idea what he meant or why he felt it so urgently. One part of his mind knew that he had parted ways with her years before, but another part said he needed her to stay with him now because he was about to face something terrible and she was the only one who had ever understood him.
“Don’t be silly.” She smiled coyly. “I’ll always be here.”
She walked around the back of the framework and he went back the other way to intercept her. Coming face to face he put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep in to her eyes. It was strange, but he could not see the love he knew should be there. Instead he felt she was mocking him.
“I don’t know how I’m going to get through this,” he pleaded. “I have done everything I could, but nothing seems to work.”
“It’s all being taken care of,” she reassured him.
“What’s being taken care of?” he tried to ask, but the words would not come.
Suddenly Michael’s neck was sore and he couldn’t speak. She started to walk away from him again and when he tried to follow, he found he couldn’t move. In fact, he couldn’t even turn his head to see where she was going, but had to follow her with his eyes until she was out of sight. He tried to call to her, but no words came and he wondered what was happening.
“There. That should do it,” he heard her say.
“Doctor, we have rising activity on the EEG. The patient is waking up”
Michael tried to look and see who the doctor was and who was talking to him, but still could not move his head. He was stuck looking out of an old multi-paned wooden window at the overgrown garden.
“I got it,” she said and then everything went black.
​
​
Part 2 https://www.reddit.com/DrCreepensVault/comments/11y08t7/headgames_part_2/
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Eternal Convictions / HeadGames
Steven Knies (c) October 23, 2009

TLDR This is a crude and rough initial attempt to place many known events into a narrative order with some semblance of a time stamp to them. It concerns the time of 12:50 to aproximately 3pm? or later the day of the shootings.
lengthy intro, feel free to skip this part
You will see I don't get too far on the time stamp part, and I'm sure I'm leaving out known and likely vital events we know of, too. But the sources are scattered and their narratives jumbled as well. It does begin to sketch a picture though, to tell the story as best as I can from the top of my head. I'd like to make this a lot more factual and probably should make it a lot less "editorial," as well. But it is like the old joke, what do you call a thousand lawyers at the bottom of the lake? "A good start."
I'm POSITIVE some of this is wrong. But I wanted to start somewhere before it all gets turned to mush in my brain. I keep notes but later they don't always make perfect sense to me because all the information comes in from every angle and it's spinning like a top, usually as well. . I'm not a historian, or a true crime reporter. I'm an amateur on the internet in this regard, please forgive me and help me get it right where you can. I dont mean to offend anyone, either. Hopefully we are all in this together, to establish the truth here. How can we have any real opinions or accountability or make the best policy decisions moving forward, or honor the fallen, or sue the heck out of one another, for that matter, without first establishing the basic facts.
It's just what sloughed off my keyboard this morning as I woke and once again tried to make sense of what makes no sense. why, ten months on we have to peice this together from corporate news accounts' hastily assembled snippets of B-roll, local rumor, internet conjecture (mine and yours, dear readers), leaks and bodycams edited and truncated by a hired PR firm for the city of Uvalde, and other odd sources coming across the ether and "over the transom," meaning we don't know who told us this.
This will be a partial timeline from a shattered afternoon where almost everyone present was in some sort of a state of shock, yet waving cheap and crude videocameras of various sorts and disordered eventual custody around in back of a school no one paid much attention to before, and that will soon be razed to the ground. And about which NOTHING HAS BEEN DONE other than to board up the windows and wipe up the blood. One important source seems to be a "whistleblower" who may in fact be a "bad actor" working to just help spread out bad news as slowly and poorly as possible, selectively omitting the worst of the worst. Who can say?
It's a portrait of chaos, drawn from chaos. A vision of hell from someone who wasn't even there, but can't stop imagining it somehow. I have little idea why. Some of my friends' children were there, but they were not in the 4th grade. It's probably all none of my business, my only real connection is that my children go to public schools in Texas. And I helped pay for these public records that are so well hidden. That at least means something to me. The rest just seems to spring from common decency and having an empathetic heart. I couldn't rightly say why any of us are here almost a year later but we are. It all started with a bang. And it all ends in sin and tears, like my grandmother would say.
The TLDR is that 21 people were murdered and a bunch of people who were only attempted to be murdered were mishandled by idiot cowards and dragged hither and yon while parents were tackled, tased and traumatized. The rest is just the gory sad details.
Don't read it if you can can help it. Horesman, pass by. But if you must, know this: it isn't pretty and it likely won't fix much of anything. But maybe just maybe it's part of path towards eventual healing or as Senator Gutierrez says, looking forward someday to "a slightly duller ache of pain."
There is no good place to start this narrative, the story of the "Aftermath." This is the wrong place but it's where I began so here it is:
Draft Narrative:
If it was Noah and AJ who ended up in an ambulance with Mayah, it seems like one of them may have originally been on the bus but taken off fairly quickly. The narrative from the lawsuit by the bus driver seems to say a boy was put on her bus but quickly taken off because of the seriousness of his injuries, or perhaps like with Mrs Mireles, the frantic cops seemed to have tunnel vision and couldn't find the ambulances at first and when one was finally right in front of them, they stumbled towards it instead.
It's also related that a dead child was placed into one ambulance, and that's why there were three in the other. Extrapolating from there it's also possible Mrs Mireles was eventually taken off the sidewalk and put in the ambulance with the dead boy still inside, or maybe she was moved to an ambulance the finally arrived from Main Street holding area.
The WP/TT/PP story has an excellently detailed animation of where ambulances and school busses came and went, beginning with the initial two ambulances. But it doesn't say who was placed inside any of them. The lead bus leaves the line at the funeral home where at least two livestream cams had caught the frantic scramble of LEOs to march and carry kids from the school to the bus. I'm not sure how many kids were on the bus. I haven't even re-read the lawsuit account yet.
Finding a sync point in order to put time stamps to the animation and the citizen livestream recordings for us poor saps denied full versions of public records videos is difficult. It seems likely the bulk of vehicle movement animation is drawn from DPS helicopter video and of course the funeral home cameras. We don't have those, but we can see snippets of them her and there the DPS helicopter at least. It's the one with the rangefinder marking and what looks almost like a weapon system crosshairs superimposed on screen. The story itself mentions LEO bodycam as well. Don't forget Crimson Elizondo is said to have ridden the "BORTAC express" school bus and wore an operating bodycam.
But the buses began to move - then stalled - before 1:01. That seems to tell us a few things - the "triage" was perfunctory and swift in getting the kids who could walk - and some who were carried - from the school to the BORTAC Express. But it took more than just one or two minutes, it seesm like it took almost ten to get children onto the BORTAC Express, but less than ten probably. We know one child was so wounded he was taken off the bus and put into an ambulance. likely the one manned by the EMT who treated thee kids, Mayah, AJ and Noah. That's not certain tho.
Two busses in the lead turn left onto Geraldine. Others go right. Were some on a route to civic center? Or to hospital? I need to check routes.
In a sick, sad moment on the Adam Ladezma livestream, seemingly after 12:50 and before 1:01 a US Marshall threatens parents, telling them harshly to move behind the busses or else their kids won't be brought out, and that the present delay is their fault, for standing on the grass off the street north of the busses, blocking no one and nothing. It seems like the scrum of agents are waiting inside, calling and stalling for a path to be cleared for them, rather than trusting that the public wants the same thing they want - for medical aid to be swift.
Some 5-10 minutes earlier the news had spread by word of mouth that the shooter was "in custody" or dead, it seems. The crowd is indeed increasingly distraught, frantic and hostile to LEOs. Some had likely seen a stretcher come out of the school. possibly with the dead child who was locked into an ambulance. And then abandoned, visibly, to some who could see it just across the street, undoubtedly. An air of pandemonium was cresting. No doubt many heard the gunfire at 12:50 or at minimum saw the LEOs n the west doorway courtyard react, after more than an hour of standing around trying to look tough, or whatever.
Then, a gaggle of LEOs, possibly BORTAC and seemingly although not visibly, DPS Crimson Elizondo among them rushes the scrum of children to the first bus, number 17, as seen on a livestream video from the parking lot at a distance in a blurry video. All hell breaks loose. On the door side/ funeral home side, a livestream cam catches some of the chaos as a distraught father is tackled by LEOs who prevent him from reaching his son. The crowd screams in protest, and women begin to loudly and openly wail in abject agony. They've seen THEIR children are bleeding, wounded, in shock, or worse. and all they are told is to "stay back" by the same people who didn't go in an hour ago and get them out.
They should be livid and they should be cursing and shouting, IMO. In some regards, these cops are accessory to murder IMO. A judge will never likely assess that. But they've kidnappend the kids and held them in police custody, arguably but not prevented the shooter from killing them at will for 82 minutes. And they've physcialy blocked those who were willing to immediately intervene.
On the other side of the bus, citizen Adam Ladezma, whose nieces and nephews go to Robb "films" or livestream-captures a child who, on encouragement from his family crawls out the back window of bus 17, the "BORTAC Express" as I'm calling it and is helped down and spirited away from the custody of the lawmen. As you watch, it's likely you feel a sigh of relief. These are poor custodians of children, one is likely assured despite the breakdown order occurring. Anyone would want to get away from their custody and the child readily complies. "When you find yourself going thru hell, keep going."
So there are all these things happening and more, and I'm attempting to put them into a coherent timeline. This is a bad, preliminary attempt to do so but I think the clues exist to do a much better job of outlining the actions. Perhaps the first pass should just be to name all the things that we see or know happened, in whatever order we have. I'm sorta doing that here but not in bullet-outline form, pardon the very poor choice of words.
But as the busses soon get moving, we know the BORTAC Express driver has locked the back door and that she sees Eva Mireles "dead" on the sidewalk being given CPR or at least lying there bleeding. And we know a child is taken off the bus by who she says is BORTAC, I think. She's made her initial turn onto Geraldine and the bus behind her follows her. lead. Does it have kids on it, the #2 bus? Does it have a LEO on it, or instructions where to go? I don't think so. It's just going. There may be a picture of aaLEO on the street speaking to the driver, IIRC, Ill try to find it. The driver wants the heck out of there, who wouldn't? Maybe it hopes to pick up more students and wishes to be closer. Seemingly, no one is put on board as it waits on Gerldine that I can see evidenc of however. It follows the Express off the scene.
The busses move far enough that the #3 and 4, 5, busses can turn right. As they do so, they too seem to stall as a helicopter comes in to land. I think it is the DPS chopper but I cannot be certain. If so, it's potentially one of the things that has delayed the arrival of the medical Air Flite choppers, although that sounds like mainly an oversight or foible of the Medina Fire chief, too. One of the choppers has blood supplies. The end up not getting used at the scene. I'm not sure if they go to the Uvalde hospital, the blood supplies, or back to a Trauma 1 center in San Antonio.
Dust covers the sky and drifts eventually onto the wounded (Eva Mireles, probably, gets covered in it) and and the ambulances that are newly arriving. A famous long-lens photo shows what looks like a 9/11style ash blizzard or. snowstorm-from-hell on the scene looking down Geraldine from the front of the school to chaos, disorder. We move quickly from two ambulances, one locked with a dead child inside and the other overcrowded with kids bleeding on the captains chair, to six or eight ambulances.
As the DPS helicopter moves towards the playground, the camera swings back to the west entrance and the bus lane. A stretcher gurney seems to be going IN to a newly arrived ambulacne. (See the first video WP/TT/PP story) Another gurney seemingly is OUT of another folded low on the ground by the tail of a ambulace. The tail end of the #2 bus is still there but begins to leave.
DPS tactical from all the way up in Austin has arrived somehow at 12:58 (too late, they were always going to be too late for the kids) in the midst of the bungled evacuations. Somewhere before all this they sprint to the courtyard by the west door, choking the passage of anyone. News helicopter seems to capture some of it, as well as news cameras down at the front of the school, and still photogs, too. it looks to all of them like something important is happening. It isn't. Not there, and not with them.
Somewhere in here SWAT from San Antonio enters the mix. I'm very loose on that timing. They're hard to tell apart from DPS tactical or SRT or whatever they are called. Is it them that runs as a big squad? I'm unsure. Nor can I spot where BORTAC huddles up afterwards. I think they stay inside the building because we don't spot them outside, not at tthe west and not at the south. They didn't all stay on the bus they commandeered. DPS Crimson Elizondo did, but who else?
We know ambulances have crawled across peoples yards, criss-crossing like a post apocalypse freeway scene to get around abandoned cop cars blocking the roads. They start arriving all from one direction as the second bus behind BORTAC Express finally manages to scoot off from the front of the school.
There's some sort of "load and go, load and go" action here that we don't have much information about unless we extrapolate what child was wounded how and eliminate the trio of AJ, Noah and Mayah from them, possibly.
At least one medical helicopter manages to land, to no avail at some point. Everyone is racing somewhere in an ambulance. Xavier, to his demise somewhere west of Hondo. Mrs Mirales never leaves the ambulance at the curb, as she desperately attended to possibly at near-gunpoint after UPC cops and attending EMTs have seemingly furiously pumped what little blood she had left onto the sidewalk, because her heart stopped from the traumatic way she was dragged from the room, seemingly and of course her multiple gunshot wounds from an AR-15. The "load and go" kids must also include the teacher from 111, who has first been placed in a cop car, or attempted- he didnt fit - and then onto the tailgate/ lift gate of a fire department truck? Possibly the one in the funeral home lot, which must have freaked the crowd out to witness, then finally into one of the "maze runner" arriving ambulances.
Again, I refer us all to the WP/TT/PP animation for clues to that. Somehow, "load and go" period ends. When? When the ambulances stop moving, whenever that is.
And then, finally, Rangers lock the scene down, even closing the gate to the west door. It's now a crime scene and they are in charge of the investigation. The Justice of the Peace, acting as coroner is enroute to pronounce the less than 18? bodies as dead. Unsure on the math here. Three left the classroom with a pulse who died. 21 died. (plus the shooter, #22). One body was locked in an ambulance. How many left in the classrooms when the rangers lock it down? 22 minus three who died and one who was improperly removed and locked in a (much needed) ambulance. 18 bodies including the shooters, is that right?
Eventually each is designated a letter of the alphabet and DNA sampled on site so the pieces of children and teachers can be sorted and reassembled, or at least distributed to the funeral homes in the right batches. Several are said to be more or less headless. On one, a pair of Green converse with a little heart-shaped sharpie drawn on the toe, that aids in identifaction.
Parents have been told to go to the civic center. Many are going to race to every hospital they can think of, including San Antonio instead. Mothers, fathers and grandparent must all separate to cover more ground, adding to the panic and desperation. Some have been told to go to the high school, but the high school gets some sort of possible gun threat? Again, NO ONE IS IN CHARGE.
On the curb near the front of the school sits Lexi's Rubio's mother and deputy father, utterly bereft. He's been kept out of the classroom but seems to have been told the definite news their child is not coming out. Curious news crews videotape and photograph them in their grief, until the mother of one parent seemingly arrives to join them. Eventually, they thread their way onto the campus to get away from the news anchors assembled by the school sign in the same intersection where Officer Hill had parked to witness Coronado's "wild ride" at 11:31 or so. 82 minutes and then some have passed, as have at least 19 souls? by now, some still fighting for life, the shooter one among the many dead, yet separate in category only. The blood of all spreads to mingle in the footprints and pools of fluids on the floors the gruesome CSI process begins in earnest.
In the queue on the video projector's mechanism, "Lilo and Stitch" awaits the Disney happy ending. Elvis won't be singing the finale BURNING LOVE today. Elvis has left the building. Elvis is deader than Elvis. And the children are going to meet him in Heaven, if you believe what the King does and loved to sing about. "Farther along, we'll understand it./ Farther along, we'll understand why."

​
Your phone begins to vibrate, indicating that someone is calling you. You look down from whatever you were doing, and pull your phone out of your pocket. You look at the screen...and.
Nothing.
The screen is blank, no emails needing to be read, and no missed calls. The call was a hoax, it seemed to not exist. Just the imagination of a busy mind.
You chuckle to yourself. I must really be addicted to my phone if I am imagining it ringing, you think. You chalk it up to the phone suddenly changing position in your pocket, and get on with the task at hand.
Blissfully unaware.
You see, at that moment, they wanted your attention elsewhere.
---------------
Journal Excerpt, Ivan Mikhailov 9th March 1982 [Translated]
"You can't be serious with this." Dimitri slowly said, carefully reading what I had given him.
"It works. All preliminary tests and calculations have been run flawlessly. There seems to be no current limitations."
"No...limitations." He looked up at me, narrowing his eyes. "You do realise what this means for the future of energy?"
Of course, I was well aware. I had created it for that purpose after all.
I nodded. "As amazing as this may seem, this is only the beginning, imagine the possibilities. Endless."
His gaze shifted off into the distance. "Infinite, you mean."
His statement was correct. I had devised a way to create infinite energy from a finite source. This was always theorised to be impossible, you would either have to make the source do infinite work in finite time or have it do finite work in zero time. Both of which were scientifically unfeasible.
Key word being were.
I had opted for the finite work in zero time route. I had hypothesised that, if I was somehow able to slow down time to a complete halt in a specific location, even as small as a pinprick, then by moving the location past the speed of light, I would technically be able to manufacture infinite energy.
After years of trial and error, I was able to hone my research. It wasn't unstable, nor volatile, it would operate consistently and expectedly. In other words it was perfect.
And I was ready to share my discoveries to the world.
Dimitri looked at me again, snapping out from whatever daydream he was in, "You do realise we have to keep this under wraps, right? The potential power of th-"
"Under wraps?!" I interjected. "One of the greatest discoveries of our time, and you want to sweep it under the rug?"
Dimitri placed his head into his palms, clearly worried. "The Americans, man! We don't have the resources to do this practically right now. And if we did, their spies would surely discover it, and beat us to the punch. Remember the moon race? We'd be giving our enemies essentially the keys to unlimited energy, bad enough, but especially in this time!"
I didn't say anything. He was right, of course. But something this big couldn't be contained. Not on my life.
"We do not do anything about this now, agreed?" Dimitri asked.
"Agreed." I said, and got up to shake his hand.
I will start tonight.
---------------
This morning, there was a journal in my mailbox.
Covered in 'happy birthday' wrapping paper and topped off with a red bowtie. The journal itself was a faint green, leather-bound, and peeling at the edges. The pages were dog-eared and filled with inky diagrams of thoughts and ideas, machines and contraptions. Things that were really beyond my knowledge.
And it was written completely in Russian.
Intrigued, I ran it through an online translator, and began to read the journal. Most of it was technical jargon that I couldn't understand. But, occasionally, the author would write about what they did that day. I have inserted one such instance above.
After the excerpt I have shown you, the journal goes on to detail how this scientist builds a machine harnessing the power of 'both refracted nanoparticles and a manufactured gravitational pull to create a momentary time dilation in an area of 1nm².'
Essentially, he stopped time.
As best as I can reckon, the formulas and measurements he used were not known in his time, and the way he stopped time has been proven to not be scientifically possible. So I chalked up the journal to the ramblings of a mad scientist, intent on making a name for himself.
As I neared the end of the journal, his writings and notes became even more jumbled and incoherent, in my opinion further solidifying my point. On the very last page of the journal, the scientist had wrote, in very large letters, in what I have come to understand as his final words:
EXPERIMENTATION TERMINATED DUE TO UNFORESEEN CIRCUMSTANCES
ALL IS NOT LOST. BE VIGILANT. THEY WANT YOUR ATTENTION ELSEWHERE.
Below the message was a haphazard drawing of a man looking at some sort of device, and above him, was some sort of creature. I say creature, because while it was human in shape, it definitely wasn't intended to be interpreted as such. The creature was drawn with jagged lines which criss-crossed over each other in an irregular pattern, similar to how a toddler would aimlessly colour in shapes.
Its back seemed to be hunched over, making it parallel with its legs. The head was triangular in shape, and its hands were outreached towards the man on the ground.
I shivered at the picture. It looked frightening, of course, but the person who drew this was obviously demented. Grasping at straws, trying to prove that they had created an 'infinite energy' source.
I was closely studying this page of the journal, when my phone began vibrating. After a few seconds, I began to take it out of my pocket, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a flash of blue cross my ceiling. I took my hand out of my pocket and stood up, scanning the room for what I just saw.
On inspection, there was nothing out of the ordinary, so I took my phone, which had not stopped vibrating, out to look for who was calling me. And...nothing. No missed calls. I unlocked my phone and searched through my apps, but the search was fruitless. Nothing was new.
But my phone had definitely vibrated.
I put my phone down, wondering what had just happened, when I saw a glimpse of another blue flash on my left side. The flash was so small and inconsequential, that I probably wouldn't have noticed it, had I not been thinking about it.
Remembering something, I began to look through Ivan's journal again. I quickly flipped through the pages before I reached what I was looking for. It seemed like he was going through something similar to me.
---------------
Journal Excerpt, Ivan Mikhailov 15th January 1983 [Translated]
The first of the speed experiments has been an undeniable success. After manufacturing a way to retain the time dilation for lengthy periods of time, my next goal was to make it move faster than the speed of light, yet have it remain stationary.
The answer to this admittedly complex problem was simple.
Vibrations.
Theoretically, if I could make the speed of vibration equal to the speed of light in a time dilated location, then my experiment would be a success.
So I put my theory to the test. And it worked. I was able to, using vibrations and time dilation, manufacture a source of infinite energy. In essence I was creating energy. Of course, since I had no way to contain this energy, it spilled out in all directions, which made some sort of hyper-blast. The resulting destruction has only set me back a couple of months.
My only goal now is to create some sort of energy containment unit to harness this unlimited energy source.
In other problems, which I believe are due to the hyper-blast, some technologies have been acting up. Vibrating and whirring as if they were on, although thorough investigation has proved that they most definitely were not hooked up to a power source. I am also occasionally seeing 'blue streaks' in the corner of my vision. I do not know the reason, and I am contemplating going to the doctor's for an examination.
This may be irrelevant, but the streaks seem to be more prevalent when I have abstained from using technology for a lengthy period of time.
I will look into this.
---------------
I closed the journal.
Blue streaks.
As if on cue, my phone began to vibrate again. A subtle reminder from deep within the recesses of my pockets that someone was trying to contact me. I ignored it.
If I wanted to learn more about these streaks, I had to apparently not use my phone.
So I sat in expectant silence. I didn’t know exactly what I was waiting for, or how long I had to wait for that matter. I ignored my still-vibrating phone and waited. After a while, my computer chassis started whirring and flashing its lights, as if it was in the process of turning on. I ignored that as well and moved my gaze away from the monitor.
A flash of blue.
Moving in and out of my peripheral vision in mere moments. I turned my head to see what had caused it but had no luck. I concentrated on where I had seen it last, and resolutely decided to spend all day here if I had to.
Another flash, purple and more prominent.
I again turned my gaze to fixate on it. Nothing. And so it went on for about an hour. I would catch a subtle glimpse of a colour and chase it around the room. Purples and pinks, blues and magenta, my vision was filled with dancing colours. Over time, the colours became more discernible, resolving themselves into blurry shapes of various sizes.
And then finally, it stopped.
The colours grouped together, in the far corner of my ceiling, swirling and muddling, but staying somewhat still. I could finally study what I was actually looking at. I got up to get a closer look, but still wary, I did not touch them.
They were fluttering around in a mini storm. Cascading and colliding, they seemed to emanate anger. Each colour seemed to have its own consciousness, moving and gliding where it pleased. The colours rippled against each other in a flurry of motion.
Then, as if a veil was lifted over my eyes, my vision refocused and I could make out what I was actually seeing. The originally shapeless colours reformed into a person standing on my ceiling, their back bent over, arms outstretched towards me.
Needless to say, I got the fuck out of there.
I ran out of my room and quickly shut the door behind me, chest heaving. Suddenly an arm appeared through my closed door, heaving and writhing like a pit of snakes. Another arm and a head soon followed suit. Once the creature’s eyes looked at me, it opened its mouth and began to shriek.
The resulting sound brought me to my knees, as I covered my ears in a failed attempt to stop the pain. The shriek was high-pitched and made a crackling sort of sound, similar to an intense television static. The sound pierced through my ears with aggressive force, echoing inside my skull.
The creature advanced on me, taking each step with what seemed to be great difficulty, before thrusting a large tendril towards my chest. The force pushed me backwards, and pinned me against the wall. It drew closer, preparing to strike me again.
Rendered immobile due to the noise, I had no choice but to accept my fate in silent fear. It thrust out at me again, forcing its arms through my chest, while apparently leaving no physical damage.
And yet it still hurt.
Each strike burned like a living fire, stretching throughout my veins and causing immeasurable pain. The creature showed no sign of slowing down, it was relentless in its assault against me.
Another strike.
I threw my head back and cried out in anguish, begging for even a moment of respite.
Another strike.
The force of the attack sent my head reeling, I could not comprehend anything else but the searing pain.
Another strike.
The creature picked me up and threw me again once more.
The momentum carried me backwards, and I heard several bones snap as the wall collapsed behind me. I hit my head on something hard and cylindrical, causing me to momentarily lose consciousness.
I woke up to another shriek, louder and more intense than ever before, and the sound of gas rushing out of the pipe I made contact with. Unable to get up, I slowly turned my head towards the creature, who was writhing and jerking, seeming to be in battle with itself.
The creature shrieked again, however this time sounded different. What used to be a vicious noise that was dripping with unbridled anger had turned into a hollow and reverberating echo.
The creature was in pain.
The several colours it was made up of began to drip off the main body, and pool at its feet. The creature staggered around drunkenly, as it began to slowly lose limbs and mobility. With whatever strength it had left, the creature made its way through my walls and away from me, leaving behind a trail of mismatched colours.
I looked back at the colours, which were bubbling and shaking, and noticed they were pooling together again, shaping and forming another creature, although somewhat laboured this time. They were swirling together, and stacking on top of each other like building blocks.
I screamed, for I could not move.
And then my phone vibrated. A soft buzz that I would have laughed at, if my ribs didn’t feel like they had been run over. I painfully repositioned myself, in a way that I would be able to take my phone out of my pocket.
I looked at it. Nothing.
With a blinding flash, the colours around me disappeared, leaving behind no indication that they were ever there, except for the hole in the wall. Breathing a sigh of relief for the first time in a while, I called emergency services.
I left the hospital in a stable condition, but broken bones still take time to heal. Every time my phone rings, I consider not looking at it.
But I can't.
For all I know, I won't make it out alive.
---------------
Journal Excerpt, Ivan Mikhailov 29th July 1983 [Translated]
I will write this quickly, as I have much to do and so little time.
I have decided to abandon the project. I was toying with things beyond my control, that perhaps even God himself didn’t want me to see. I will do my best to clear up my mess, but it is unlikely I will be successful. I have let too much escape from my grip.
I will leave whoever may stumble upon these words of mine with a final warning:
Resist all temptations.
It wants your attention elsewhere.
​

This post was inspired by a similar one I saw a few days ago. Some names here are very common, some are very rare. Enjoy!
Anada: ♀️ Artistic form of Anna created by Lajos Zilahi for his novel "Valamit visz a víz/The Water Carries Something" (1928). A very rare name. [aw-naw-daw]
Árnika: ♀️ Created by Ervin Lázár for his novel "Szegény Dzsoni és Árnika/Poor Johnny and Arnica" (1981). The name is derived from a genus of perennial plants, meaning "arnica, leopard's bane". A very rare name. [aar-nee-kaw]
Árvácska: ♀️ Derived from the word "árvácska", meaning "pansy", Zsigmond Móricz used this name for his novel "Árvácska"(1941). A rare name. [aar-vaach-kaw]
Bánk: ♂️ Originally a nobility title, it was first used as a name by József Katona for his play "Bánk bán" (1819). Not a common name. [baank]
Berzsián: ♂️ A masculine name created by Ervin Lázár for his novel "Berzsián és Dideki/Berzsián and Dideki" (1979). A rare name. [behr-zhee-yaan]
Bóbita: ♀️ Created by Sándor Weöres who based it on Hungarian "bóbita" meaning "tuft" referring to the feathers on a bird's head. A very rare name. [bow-bee-taw]
Csilla: ♀️ The name derives from the word "csillag", meaning "star" and it was created by András Dugonics for his novel, "Etelka" (1788). Used to be a very popular name, common mostly among adults. [cheel-law]
Csinszka: ♀️ Pet name of the Hungarian poet, Endre Ady's wife, Berta Boncza. The name comes from the word "csacsi" which means "little/baby donkey". Ady used this name for his wife in his poems. A very rare name. [cheens-kaw]
Dalma: ♀️ Originally a masculine name, created by Mihály Vörösmarty for his epic poem "Zalán futása/The Flight of Zalán" (1823). The original meaning is "bulky". Later Sándor Petőfi took this name as his pseudonym for a while. As a feminine name, Péter Vajda used it in 1839, later Mór Jókai used it too. It's new meaning comes from the word "dal", meaning "song". A pretty common name among young adults and teens. [dawl-maw]
Délibáb: ♀️ The name means "mirage", used as a name both by Mihály Tompa for his poem "Csörsz árka/Trench of Csörsz" and Mór Jókai for his play "Levente" (1898). A very rare name. [day-lee-baab]
Enikő: ♀️ Created by the poet Mihály Vörösmarty for his works, from the old Hungarian mythological name Enéh, meaning "young hind". A very common name. [eh-nee-koe]
Estilla: ♀️ The name is a variation of Estella, meaning "star". "Este" also means "evening" in Hungarian. It was created by Mór Jókai for his play "Levente" (1898). [ehsh-teel-law]
Eszténa: ♀️ Created by Gyula Krúdy for his novel "Az útitárs/The Travel Companion" (1919). [ehs-tay-naw]
Etelka: ♀️ It's the feminine form of the name Etele (a different form of Attila), meaning "little father". It was created by András Dugonics for his novel "Etelka" (1788). A popular old lady name. [eh-tehl-kaw]
Gyöngyvér: ♀️ It was created by János Arany for his novel "Buda halála/Death of Buda" (1863), meaning "pearl sibling" via combining the words "gyöngy" meaning "pearl" and "vér" meaning "blood". It's not really common. [dyoendy-vayr]
Hajna: ♀️ The name comes from the word "hajnal" meaning "dawn" by Mihály Vörösmarty for his epic poem "Zalán futása/The Flight of Zalán" (1823). [hawy-naw]
Hippia: ♀️ An artistic form of Hippolyta created by Imre Madách for his play "Az ember tragédiája/The Tragedy of Man" (1861). [heep-pee-yaw]
Ilma: ♀️ A shorter from of Wilma, created by Mihály Vörösmarty for his play "Csongor és Tünde/Csongor and Tünde" (1830). [eel-maw]
Imola: ♀️ Originally meaning "centaurea" a genus of 700 species of thistle-like flowering plants, it was first used as a name by Mór Jókai in his novel "A bálványos váCastle Idolatrous" (1883). The old meaning of the name is "swamp, kelp". A rare name. [ee-mo-law]
Jolán: ♀️ Created by András Dugonics for his novel "Jólánka, Etelkának leánya/Jólánka, Daugther of Etelka" (1803). Jolán comes from "jó leány" meaning "good girl". It also coincides with the name Yolanda. A common old lady name. [yo-laan]
Kincső: ♀️ This name was created by Mór Jókai for his novel "A jövő század regénye/The Novel of the Next Century" (1872). It's meaning comes from "kincs ő" meaning "she is a treasure". A popular name among children and teens. [keen-choe]
Lilla: ♀️ It's an old nickname of Lívia and Lídia. Mihány Csokonai Vitéz called his muse, Julianna Vajda by this name in his poems. A very popular name among children, teens and adults. [leel-law]
Szaffi: ♀️ A nickname of Szófia (Sophia) created by Mór Jókai for his novel "A cigánybáró/The Gypsy Baron" (1885). A very rare name. [sawf-fee]
Szidalisz: ♀️ The name was created by György Bessenynei. A rare name. [see-daw-lees]
Tímea: ♀️ Created from the Greek name Euthymea by Mór Jókai for his novel "Az arany embeThe Man with the Golden Touch" (1872). A very common name. [tee-meh-yaw]
Tünde: ♀️ Derived from the word "tündér", meaning "fairy, elf" it was created by Mihály Vörösmarty for his play "Csongor és Tünde/Csongor and Tünde" (1830). A popular name among adults. [tuen-deh]
Villő: ♀️ Created by Zoltán Kodály for his children's choir "Villő" (1925). "Villő" is probably derived from the Latin "villus" meaning "tuft of hair". Another theory links this word to Czech and Slovak "víla" meaning "fairy". A pretty rare name. [veel-loe]
Zéta: ♂️ A masculine name, created by Géza Gárdonyi for his novel "A láthatatlan embeSlave of the Huns" (1901). The name refers to the letter Z of the Greek alphabet. A very rare name. [zay-taw]
Zolna: ♀️ Variation of the place name Zsolna/Žilina created by the poet Mihály Vörösmarty. A very rare name. [zol-naw]

Hi girls! Little help here.
My "workflow" shooting content to promote (I only promote here on reddit) is doing shoot a long video and trim the best momments in shorties videos. Then I upload to redgifs, and I post here on reddit. But to don't look spammy and have a lot of repeated videos, I like to do sort them. I'll try to explain better LOL
Each session is like an letter from the alphabet, and every session, I get like 10 shorties. So I want my schedule to be something like this:
Day 1 A1, B5, C6, D2, F3
Day 2 C3, D4, E5, G5, H7
Day 3 E1, J5, K6, L8, M4 [...]
​
This way I can shoot a bunch of videos, and it will take A LOT to repost something
The question is: How can I schedule this? Manage, and know when I already posted something? And this makes sense to you?

The Roman Emperor Claudius attempted to reform the Latin Alphabet by adding three new letters; Ↄ, Ⅎ, and Ⱶ. Wikipedia says that according to Suetonius it was still common to see old manuscripts and inscriptions with these letters. Some made it into the modern day, but were there any that were significantly large?

I still remember the look of pure bewilderment on her face as she asked: "Wait... You drink?" I merely shrugged, took the bottle, and poured another glass. "Yes, I drink. Is that weird?" She flinched. "Uhm! No! N-no no. It's fine. I just... didn't expect you of all people to actively drink alcohol. That's all." She paused for a good five seconds, causing an awkward silence to appear between us. "U-uhm... Can you please stop glaring at me like that?", she asked, looking. "Oh. Sorry. Force of habit."
"A disguise?" She cocked her head to the side. "What for?" "Well, allow me to share a theory.", I replied. I automatically stood up and started pacing the room back and forth while explaining. "Consider this. He knows the operation was a success. That means that there are two of me. If I can manage to convince the world - more importantly, Junko - that one of them is gone, they'll stop looking so hard." I looked at her in anticipation. She then grinned and said: "Are you sure that's not just an excuse to wear a fancier outfit?" "Wh-what? No, of course not! I only want to do it because-" "Oh, don't start with me, girl! I saw you looking at Gundham and Sonia's outfits last Halloween. You were totally in awe with their costumes!" Damn. She saw that? How? "So what if I like fancy outfits?", I asked angrily. Whereupon she swallowed another sip of wine and said: "I thought you hated lying. Is there anything else I... need to know?" She added a suggestive wink to that last part... Must have been the alcohol.
"Hey. I know you're a woman of science, but do you believe in fate or destiny or something like that?" She was staring at the ceiling as she asked me. What a ridiculous question. I peered at the bottom of my glass and replied: "If it is fate, that Junko Enoshima gets to destroy most of our delicate world, then the Gods above us must hate us very much indeed. Supposing there even is a God anyway." She looked at me, her once wandering eyes now locked onto mine, then wandering off again. "Faith was never your strong suit anyway, in God or anything else really." Ouch. Subtle. But still. Ouch. The worst part about that was that it was true.
"Don't you want to wear a disguise yourself? Maybe it will help you get over your shy nature." "Have I been shy tonight?" She suddenly got dead serious, looking me dead in the eyes. I admit, that was indeed unlike her normal shy self. "I... suppose not."
SLAM!
Her fist connected to the table. "I've made my decision. I'm not going to cower any longer. The world knows Mikan Tsumiki has aided Junko in spreading despair... And the world will know that it's Mikan Tsumiki... Who will set the record straight again. I've cowered and begged and hid and cried enough... I made a vow to Him that I would destroy every single part of her down to her bones, and I will fulfill that vow, and see it through until the end!" She had faith and conviction. It was clear in her eyes... that she meant every word. This wasn't the stuttering stumbling nurse back at school anymore. Something definitely changed her, and it wasn't the alcohol.
"Now that you've calmed down, how about we call it a night?" She let a big yawn escape her mouth. "I'll take that as a yes, then." I couldn't help but let out a sigh. "We always need to be well-rested. In this world, danger can lurk around every corner." I turned around. She already set sail to dreamland. Low tolerance, I suppose.
I stepped in bed myself and turned to my side, but not before my eyes met the three 26-sided dice; one side for every letter of the alphabet... SFC... what are the chances? 1 in 17576! And somehow she got it without cheating too. Well, whatever she rolled was to become my codename, that was the rule, but... Ah, screw it. SFC it is. Maybe I should start having a little faith myself...

fPLEASE NOTE ALL PRICING DOES NOT INCLUDE SHIPPING. I WILL CHARGE SHIPPING EXACTLY BASED ON ZIP / LOCATION. Typically shipping for a game will range between $3-5.
NES Games

• CIB Mike Tyson Punch Out - $200
• Boxed Mike Tyson's Punch Out $170
• Fire N Ice - $200
• Castlevania with Manual - $55
• Mike Tyson's Punch Out - $41
• MC Kids with Manual - $40
• Kid Icarus - $23
• Boxed Tetris 2 - $22
• Bubble Bobble - $20
• 1943 - $20
• Lolo - $16
• Puzznic - $14
• Mario Bros - $20
• Super Pitfall - $13

SNES

• Arkanoid - $25
• Thomas the Tank Engine - $15
• Star Fox - $16
• Tin Star - $14
• NHL 12 - $10
• Toy Story (bad label) - $10
• Speedy Gonzales - $10

GAMECUBE

• CIB pokemon Colosseum - $160
• CIB Animal Crossing - $65
• Boxed Animal Crossing - $55
• Loose Four Swords Adventure - $50
• Loose Zelda Collector's Edition - $50
• Star Fox Adventure For Display Only - $40
• CIB Time Splitters 2 - $30
• Boxed Spongebob Revenge of the Flying Dutchman - $20
• CIB Barnyard - $20
• Loose Super Monkey Ball 2 - $18

Nintendo 64

• Conker's Bad Fur Day - $140
• Mario 64 with Box and manual (frankenstein) - $125
• CIB Lego Racers (nicer copy) - $85
• CIB Lego Racers - $70
• Mario 64 - $40
• Jeopardy - $15
• Wave Race - $10

Wii

• CIB Metroid Prime Trilogy - $130
• CIB Wii Party - $50
• Boxed Skyward Sword - $25
• CIB Mario Bros Wii - $25
• Sleeved New Super Mario Bros wii - $25
• CIB Wii Play Motion - $20

Switch

• Loose Altelier Ryza 2 - $55
• Sealed Freedom Planet (limited run) - $50
• Sealed Neo World Ends with You - $40
• Sealed Diablo 3 - $40
• CIB Zoids - $20
• CIB Helmut - $20
• CIB Trials of Mana - $20
• Sealed Fortnite Minty Legends - $15
• Sealed Fortnite Anime Legends - $15
• Sealed Trollhunters - $15
• Sealed Ben 10 Power Trip - $ 10
• CIB Shining Resonance Refrain - $30
• Sealed Bad North - $50
• Sealed Hades - $30
• CIB Stardew Valley - $35
• Sealed Castlevania Anniversary Collection - $35
• CIB Pokemon Violet - $50
• CIB Pokemon Sword - $40
• CIB Valkyria Chronicles 4 - $35
• CIB Ghostbusters Remastered - $20
• CIB Bravely Default II - $35
• Sealed Ender Lillies - $40

Gameboy

• Gargoyle's Quest - $40
• Pokemon Blue (bad label) x2 - $42
• Pokemon Trading Card Game - $25

GBC

• Wario Land 3 - $30

GBA

• WATA 9.2 A++ Factory Sealed Golden Sun - $1500
• WATA 9.4 A+ Mario & Luigi Superstar Saga - $1250
• CIB Glacier GBA WITH FREE CIB Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3 - $180
• CIB Doom Advance - $150
• Final Fantasy VI Advance - $100
• Final Fantasy V Advance - $50
• Mario Pinball Land - $20
• Castlevania Double Pack - $90
• Castlevania Circle of Moon - $30
• Kirby Amazing Mirror - $50

DS

• Pink DSi - $45
• Blue DSi - $45
• Pokemon Black 2 - $130
• Shaymin Pokemon Distribution Cartridge (EUR) - $900
• Darkrai Pokemon Distribution Cartridge (EUR) - $900
• Diddy Kong Racing Not for Resale - $20
• Sealed Assassin's Creed 2 Discovery - $35
• Legend of Zelda Phantom Hourglass Boxed - $40
• Sealed Shaun the Sheep - $50
• CIB Puffy Ami Yumi - $30
• CIB Wild World - $30
• CIB New Super Mario Bros - $20

3DS

• Sealed Gogo Kokopolo Double Pack - $110
• Loose Monster Hunter Stories - $50
• Loose Pokemon Art Academy - $45
• CIB Super Mystery Dungeon - $45
• Loose Kirby Battle Royale - $25
• CIB Monster High New Ghoul in School - $22
• CIB Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate - $22
• Zelda Ocarina of Time with BOX and Club Nintendo Insert (should this have a manual?) - $25
• CIB Final Fantasy Explorers - $40
• CIB Hey! Pikmin - 35
• CIB Story of Seasons Trio of Towns - 45
• CIB Harvest Moon: The Lost Valley - $25
• CIB Harvest Moon Skytree Village - $25
• CIB Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate - $20
• CIB Monster Hunter Generations - $20
• CIB Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate - $20

Sega Genesis

• Boxed Wings of Wor - $90
• Loose Truxton - $50
• Boxed Forgotten Worlds - $35
• Boxed Strider - $40
• Boxed Star Control - $30
• Boxed Raiden Trad - $65
• Boxed Raiden Trad (cart wouldn't read) - $45
• CIB Samurai Shodown - $22
• CIB Marble Madness - $28
• CIB Cool Spot - $20
• CIB X-Men - $25
• CIB Sonic - $35
• CIB Sonic 2 - $25
• CIB Sonic Spinball - $20
• CIB 6-Pak - $25
• CIB Frogger - $20
• CIB Ms. Pac Man - $10
• loose Street Fighter 2 Special Champ Edition (destroyed manual) - $20

PS1

• CiB Silent Hill Black label (gutted manual) - $160
• CIB Tekken Long Box - $60
• CIB Battle Arena Toshinden 2 Long Box - $40
• CIB Parasite EVE 2 - $115
• CIB Parappa the Rapper - $100
• CIB Mega Man Legends with damaged manual - $75
• CIB Resident Evil 3 Nemesis 2 Disc (damaged case) - $55
• CIB Alien Resurrection - $45
• 2x CIB Metal Gear Solid - $45
• Boxed Metal Gear Solid - $40
• CIB Resident Evil 2 - $42
• CIB Final Doom - $40
• CIB Ace Combat 2 - $35
• CIB Legacy of Kain Soul Reaver - $25
• CIB Road Rash - $25
• CIB Chronicles of the Sword - $20
• CIB Krazy Ivan LONGBOX (damaged manual) - $18
• CIB NHL Face Off LONG BOX - $10
• CIB Arcade's Greatest Hits LONG BOX - $15

PS2

• Loose Silent Hill 4 the Room - $75
• CIB Shadow Hearts + CIB Shadow Hearts Covenant - $200
• CIB Predator Concrete Jungle - $70
• CIB Neo Contra (x2) - $25
• Boxed Bouncer - $20

PS4

• Factory Sealed WATA 9.6 A+ Liar Princess and the Blind Princes - $120
• Factory Sealed Star Wars Bounty Hunter Premium Edition - $120
• Factory Sealed Kingdom Hearts 3 Deluxe Edition - $55
• Last Guardian - $23
• Heavy Rain & Beyond Two Souls Collection - $22
• Middle Earth Shadow of War Gold Edition (with steelbook) - $20
• Root Letter Last Answer with art book - $20
• Knack 2 - $18
• Shenmue 1 & 2 - $17
• World of Final Fantasy - $15
• Sealed Minecraft Dungeons Hero Edition - $22
• Atari Flashback Cassics Vol 1 - $15
• Far Cry 5 - $10
• Skyrim VR - $12
• Payday 2 The Big Score - $12
• Nioh 2 - $8
• Assassin's Creed origins - $8

PSP (all CIB)

• Shin Megami Tensei Persona 3 Portable - $140
• Legend of Heroes Trails in the Sky - $110
• Tactics Ogre: Let us Cling together - $35
• Final Fantasy 2 - $28
• Ghost Rider - $17
• Star Wars battlefront Elite Squadron - $16

Hey, guys first wanted to say, that anyone seeing this who helped guide me through one of the worst days of my life, yesterday I appreciate you much. Now to the report. This went down 2 weeks ago on a Wednesday. I picked up the stuff after skiing around my local ski resort. When I arrived home I got a shower and dropped around 6-7g out of the total 9 gs I picked up in around half a glass of lemon juice. I hid them in the back of my closet and readied for bed. Did the normal get a shower got in some comfy clothes tidied up my room for the trip gobbled down the shrooms which were true albino teachers and readied up for bed. I just went to bed to binge some yt until the first effects of the shroomz started to kick in. In the beginning, it was normal. The normal morphing of objects and the wiggling of letters. Very soon all time would be lost in everlasting space. I soon found myself rambling random names and oddly saying DMT many times out loud. I was flailing from side to side of my bed and even more oddly I remember eating my airpod which at the moment I thought I did even though I didn't. What I did do was start biting on my phone for some reason at this point I was not even able to enjoy any such patterns or geometry but I was sheerly indulged in the complete and utter insanity of the mushrooms. Now to say I was not having a good time at this moment would be a lie. At this time I felt grounded. I had odd visions of communicating with celebrities and everyone I wanted. I felt like I could communicate with anyone regardless of their status low or high. It felt like no one was better or worse than anyone or anything. After these short glimpses started the real insanity. I started to relive some of my best memories of getting caught in the past and traveling to some of the best moments I ever lived. This was true bliss it was, on one hand, utter insanity but bliss too. After this, it got only so much worse after I ended up pissing all over my bed. I was so caught up in the moment and was not in my body fully so I guess my body just urinated on its own all over the bottom of my sweatshirt and my bed. The rest of the peak followed suit. Rambling random things, traveling through random dimensions that went right past my memory due to the sheer insanity of the trip, and reliving my past me memories. Then came the come down it was around 3 in the morning mind you I had school the next day. My lock screen was a scenic view of a mountain with plant life. was vigorously moving. As I mentioned, was biting my phone earlier, and with this vigor rotation and pattern of my lock screen, I was thoroughly convinced my phone was shattered fully. I was scared and very worried as I watched the fragments that used to be beautiful turn into a cracked phone screen this paired with the piss all over my bed made me want nothing more than to end my life right then. I prayed to whatever god would listen that I would never take drugs again if he would just spare me from these feelings and end this trip to hell and back. This is all I remember as I promptly passed out and woke up. My phone luckily only has one small shatter on the side hardly noticeable. I have no clue why I believed it was so badly shattered at the moment. After this, I scrubbed the piss off my bed and went on to school. Now when I tell you the morning was bad, I mean it was really bad. My usually bubbly self willing to talk to anyone and crack jokes at anything was reserved for a sheer shell of what I once was. I felt dead, literally brain fucked, I promised to never do drugs again. Throughout the day I gained a better perspective of what happened and realized it was not that bad.
PART 2- This went down a day later it was Friday I researched taking mushrooms after the trip and decided to go in for round 2 whether it was dumb or smart I gobbled down 3.5g lemon juice and all. background to before this adventure..... I asked my friend to pick a number between 1 and 10 if he got it I would trip. He got it twice in a row at this point I said fuck it gobbled shrooms and puffed my weed. Holly fuck it was amazing.... not many visuals, no huge realizations, and no peak at all. This did not matter because I felt all the love in the world just sheer warmness until I slowly faded into a slumber. It felt amazing. Better than words could describe. I woke up feeling nice and refreshed and better than ever. But anyways this is my story. If you have any insights into this please comment on them because I still struggle to find the trip's true meaning. Ima leaves this post off on the one thing I could gather from the trips. If you are men to other people, in turn, you are being mean to your soul because we all share the same soul and presence in some way shape, or form. Learning this I have tried to be nicer to people so I suppose there is that.

I was obsessed with this series during secondary school in the 90s but can't for the life of me remember the name. Each book focused on different characters but it was always set at a high school. It was horromurder mystery but not supernatural. I think the titles were somehow linked as well, but can't remember how. Maybe like sequential letters from the alphabet (but I might have misremembered that bit).

The answer for rising inequality from American leadership since the 80's has been inflationary asset and commodities bubbles created by credit expansion. There has been a long term slide in interest rates, 40 years of a collapsing fed funds and treasury rates an the absolutely massive growth of private, government and consumer debt. This created a series of asset bubbles whose well documented demises wreaked economic havoc but also grew wealth to insane levels. we're trapped in a feedback loop. The market and major american Industry is dependent upon credit expansion to the detriment of the working class and the working class is up to its eyeballs in debt already a record high at $14-16 trillion.
The majority of this inflationary credit expansion goes directly to the top 1%. The working class will continue to get squeezed until the system breaks again.
The financialization of the markets by the FED has garunteed continued market collapse. The market knows it will be bailed out. The interventionist credit expansion is inflationary, new credit in the system is inflationary.
Open market operations like Quantative easing, repos, and bailouts have the same effect as increasing the money supply. The Fed issued new credit to buy MBS's and rapidly devaluing US treasuries. The greater the supply of money in an economy, the lower the corresponding interest rates are. In turn, lower rates allow banks to make more loans. Increased lending stimulates demand by giving businesses money to expand and individuals, money to buy things like homes, cars, and boats.
By increasing the money supply, QE keeps the value of the country's currency low. Short term bond rates will be going negative soon. Which demonstrates the market is in bad shape, demand is so great for short term bonds the yields are going negative an banks are still buying.The majority of the new credit isn't making it to the productive economy. The market is now dependent on the systemic flaws. The FED and monetary policy is the problem crypto is the answer.
That was a comment from 3 years ago
What's changed in that time? The financial system has begun to change more rapidly than it has in 70 years. Prior to the great financial collapse of 2008. Every interest bearing financial product and the cost to borrow was fixed with the LIBOR the London Interbank offered rate. This was abandoned for SOFR secured overnight funding rate. Where the market for interbank settlements was dominated by unsecured interbank lending in the tens of trillions.
Through a alphabet soup of lettered agencies and the FED unsecured interbank lending is essentially illegal it's so heavily penalized. Banks now prefer to borrow directly from the FED.
The FED seems to have started to take a different tact. Everyone is familiar with the massive expansion of the M2 explained above. Pumping trillions Into the financial system to try to create a new bubble of over consumption and paper over hundreds of Billions in losses in systemically important banks, Same plan as 08', the economy was a hollowed out corpse before the corona virus. The plan was the same, bail out the wealthy and huge corporations then hope the bubble is a bandaid over the bullet hole in the real economy.
Only now the tact the FED is taking is in reverse. During the recovery from 08' the FED encouraged mid size to small banks to hold long term duration treasuries as a means to shore up balance sheets and the FEDs own position after devaluing treasuries in 08'. The m2 is collapsing at a higher rate than any time in history. The FEDs plan seems to be raise rates at all cost to fight inflation but is it an excuse to rapidly raise rates for a rugpull of the very institutions it encouraged to hold long term duration treasuries. Small to mid sized banks do not have the infrastructure for complex interest rates swaps to offset the risk of a rapidly changing interest rate environment. Is it also coincidence that regional and mid size banks represent the bulk of American deposits. Assets ripe for the picking to shore up systemically important banks balance sheets. Is the plan to fight inflation while cannibalizing regional banks? The FED raises rates tomorrow and more assets up for acquisition.

(My age range would be around 18 - 35).
Hello!
Have you ever thought about that one connection? You know, the comfortable silence, understanding each other by just one glance. Having that one feeling when you receive a message. When everything else doesn't matter, because you're together, in your own bubble. Feeling like home around the other person and many more. I'm seeking a person with whom we could create a world together, that world.

• Maybe have game nights, with dim lights, slow or calm background music, just the right atmosphere to sit at home playing board games or video games, or whatever else both decide.
• Or maybe just ordering take out and watching something, videos, anime, TV-shows and more.
• Having those rainy days, where sometimes you want to go out in the rain, but other times you just want to sit at home, listen to the drops hitting the window and watch the outside.
• Lazy days, when you just stay at home all day, binge a show or do some other activity together.
• Cooking disasters, you know, when you want to make cookies or something for the first time, so you both find the right recipe that you like, it fails and they come out burnt and bad, so you just order take out and go binge a show or something.
• Making playlists together for different occasions or just in general a mutual playlist.
• Learning new stuff and teaching each other.
• Shopping spree, buying stuff we don't need, because it looked cool or cute or something and then thinking why did we do that.
• Having a mutual collection of something.
• Working out together and motivating each other to be better.
• Generally motivating each other to be better and supporting each other through every step.

There's probably a lot more, which I'll leave for the getting to know each other part.
I love doing all those things and more. I'm a creative person and I love creating stuff, be it a drawing, a letter, a story, a video, a song and more. Currently I'm creating a story and worldbuilding. I enjoy writing and wanted to see how the end result would look with a bunch of ideas ideas combined. I also love drawing, which I wanted to include there. My main hobbies would be gaming, working out and watching stuff. I love playing pretty much everything, genre doesn't really matter. I do also love board games, my favorite one would be chess. I'm a gym rat, I love working out, be it at the gym, outside or at home, mostly depends on time and all that. Watching stuff was always something I've done pretty much every day, generally it's Youtube videos, I do also love watching anime, it would be my go to, sometimes streams and TV-shows as well. I also enjoy making new playlists or discovering different songs and music. Genre doesn't really matter to me, my music taste is all over the place. Always wanted to make music or a song of my own as well.
For me, I value communication and effort a lot. I believe anything can work if both parties make effort to build something together and communicate through every step. Also, going out of your way, making effort, even if you fail, says a lot. Yeah, it failed in the end, but there was some effort, which matters a lot.
I'll leave everything else for the getting to know each other part. Don't hesitate, feel free to reach out. And I hope you have a great day or night! :)