The other day it was my girlfriends birthday party. We had been getting into arguments all day about little things. She gets mean when she’s stressed out, I get anxious and avoidant. We’ve had lots of ups in downs over the last year due to multiple things and I can definitely take the blame on some but I love her. I know we’re not perfect and I’m willing to try to do whatever I can to make it work. The other day was our biggest fight yet.
Her Mom has been iffy with me since day one. They welcome me into their home and to their family functions, but she is unhappy her daughter is gay. She compares me a lot to my gfs sisters boyfriend and has made many small comments that have made me question my fit into the family. I have been open about this to my girlfriend and her response is always that they love me and I’m in my head. I was feeling invalidated. I asked her if I could invite my friend to her party so I’d have someone to sit with she said yes but now said she never wanted that friend to go (even though she had invited her apparently to just be nice).
At her birthday party she and I wernt talking all that much because of the morning fight and I sat by myself for the most part. Two of her aunts came up and talked to me and asked me how I was. I told them I was just trying my best to feel out the family and fit in. They explained to me that it had nothing to do with me and it’s the fact my gfs mom can’t accept she’s gay. They had told me the many horrible comments her mom has said about me which I know were true because they had very specific examples of my life.
I asked my gf multiple times through the night if I could step aside and ask her to talk.
The party was over but her and her mom wanted to get drunk and we all waited at the bar for a couple of hours. I didn’t drink.
After a couple hours at the bar I told my gf I was going to head home with her cousin who would drop me off at my house and that she and I could talk in the morning. I was tired. Her aunt had offered that her daughter could take me home since we live in the same direction. She said to shut up. I went back to the house and packed my stuff for her cousin to get me. I had no idea her mom and aunt had so many problems. Her aunt came with the cousin to get me.
My gfs mom drunkenly ran out of the house and beat her aunt (brothers wife). She stomped on her head and clawed her. My gf decided to jump in the fight because she didn’t want her mom to get hurt. Her mom was the instigator. Apparently her and the aunt have had issues for years. I had no idea and thought the aunt was being nice.
My girlfriend and her mom but the aunt in the hospital. I had to call the police because things had gotten so bloody. The neighbors called as well (this was all outside in their driveway). My gf and her mom got arrested and now have court.
My gf and I talked for the first time today after the incident. She told me I was the cause of her day being ruined and I had disrespected and broke apart her family. Obviously I didn’t intend any of this to happen. I don’t think saying I was going home was a big deal and that her mom was the one who blew this up not me.
My gf now says I need to put in an effort and that she is mad at me and her family hates me. She said I am a horrible partner I offer nothing and she doesn’t want to see me but then also kept saying she wants me to put in an effort and she will determine if we will get together or not. She says she loves me but I messed everything up.
I was hurt she nor her mom apologized or think they had any bad behavior or contributed to the fight.
My family is worried I may be the next one to be attacked.

Saturday morning I woke up feeling pretty good. I had a very simple breakfast of leftovers from yesterday. Instead of doing the chores that I needed to do I spent the morning watching TV. My friend called me and we got together to do some shopping. I needed to get supplies to be able to store my microbiotic food. I was able to find some really nice jars at Ace hardware. While we were out and about I started to get really hungry so I opened up one of the meals that I had brought with me. It was rice with vegetables cooked in oil with a little bit of apple cider vinegar for flavoring. Not really the best choice for the apple cider vinegar. But I'll work that out. I was actually starting to feel really tired and just heavy throughout the day. But I had dungeons and dragons to go to that night. So I'm at dungeons & dragons and they noticed what I'm eating and it suddenly became this big discussion about what I was eating and why I was eating it and I basically finally was like this is what I'm doing to help myself and that's kind of the end of the discussion. After that they were more supportive. I was really tired throughout the game. And went home and basically fell completely asleep until Sunday morning

Hi. So we have a 7 year old Golden retriever. Had him since he was a pup and he’s always liked ‘stealing and chewing’ small things like socks, remote controls and anything that fits nicely in his mouth. The issue has always been reasonably manageable in that we just ensure we don’t leave too many small things laying about. I recently had a baby so obviously that’s all changed now. There is stuff everywhere and I struggle to keep everything out of reach of the dog. He is very big and counter surfs well and is now being super destructive. He’s stealing baby toys/pacifiers/baby cups/bowls/ wallets and it’s honestly tipped me over the edge. He will chew them to bits once he has them so destroying everything. He is walked 2/3 times a day and is always tired after walks. He has plenty of his own toys and has regular marrowbones. We give him as much attention as we can and he sleeps in our bed with us in the evening and baby is in their own room so he gets 121 time. He also has a pack dog walk with a dog walker 3 times a week so he is well socialised. I’m really struggling. Any advice? Thanks

Hey there! Im a FTM and 16 weeks. I feel so big. Like bloated, big, heavy, lethargic, tired, hungry, sad, grouchy, thirsty, and big. I was so excited to be pregnant and didn’t think I’d struggle with my pregnant body but I am. I feel like I’m full term and have a belly already and just growing everywhere. Arms, face, just bigger all around. Surprisingly I’ve only gained like 9 pounds but I feel 20 pounds heavier.
I want to have happiness, acceptance, and love for myself. I’m fighting yoga, working out, meditation and I normally love those things. I only want to sleep and eat even at 16w. You know that feeling when you don’t get coffee or fully ever feel alert? That’s how I feel and bloated face and body.
I don’t feel good in my clothes either. I feel hunchy. I don’t feel cute, feminine or sexy and I normally feel all those things.
Tips on how to work with this energy?
P. S. Todays my birthday!! I’m spending the day in bed but I wish I could be active and happy and feel good.

my garten of banban rap
YO YO YO listen up to my new rap! I just got a banban hat!
(HOT GIRL SINGING) oH YeAhhhh ITS GARTEN OF BANBAN! WHEN YOU GET SOME GARTEN! AND A BIG. PIECE. OF ASSSSSS! awesome music plays
Me: ya my name is rappa 3000 and ill tel ya da story of gaten of banan with a baban goldy and a hot jumbo josh fucking banbaleena all day long, With a hudge dong, and den the parent named chonged put his dong in OPILA BIRD!
girl takes off shirt and sings OH YEAAAAAAHHH ITS GARTENNNNN OF BANBAN! WHEN U GET SOME GaaRrrrten! AND A. BIG. PIECE. OF. QSS
me strokes dong mmmm ya itd Banba with a huge dings and blongs and bong and frogsssss! with scary sexy clay monsters!

Pido perdón por adelantado en caso de que se alargue mucho esto.
Básicamente estoy un poco desesperado y recientemente solo pensar en mi situación actual me causa estrés. Aún es posible que me esté ahogando en un vaso de agua, pero no lo siento así personalmente. Mi situación es la siguiente.
Tengo 21 años, preparatoria terminada y recientemente me "independize" (osea me vine a rentar una casa pequeña junto con un amigo).
Pensé que sería una buena idea, la renta es barata y dividida entre dos es bastante accesible.
Pero desde que lo hice siento que tire a la basura mi red de seguridad.
Desde hace bastante tiempo quería dejar de vivir con mi padre, es una persona muy opresiva, así que me fui a vivir con un familiar con el pretexto de entrar a un trabajo que había en la ciudad donde vive dicho familiar. Ya tiempo después le dije a mi padre que no quería regresar, y apenas hace un mes me salí de la casa de ese familiar.
Respecto a mi trabajo, actualmente trabajo desde casa para un call center. Ganó en promedio 10,000 pesos mensuales, estoy conciente que para mí edad y nivel de estudios es de hecho bastante decente. Pero este trabajo me estresa mucho. Todas las llamadas que tomo son en ingles, y para alguien totalmente introvertido es drenador hablar con gente todo el día. Encima de eso, a pesar de que mi inglés es bastante bueno se me sigue notando el acento, y hay personas ahí afuera que toman eso como excusa para dejarte en claro lo inútil que creen que eres solo por tu nacionalidad, por lo general pidiendo hablar con alguien que "si hable inglés". A eso sumado que son jornadas de mínimo 9 horas diarias termino irritado todos los días. En resumen, detesto mi trabajo.
No puedo aspirar a mucho más porque no estudie una carrera debido a distintos problemas que tuve cuando tuve la oportunidad, y hoy en día no me es fácil hacer el tiempo para ello dado la situación de mi trabajo. Eh estado intentando meterme a una escuela en línea pero utel no termina de gustarme, según escuché tiene mala reputación.
Una parte dentro de mi todavía quiere intentar cumplir mi estúpido sueño de vida, estudiar criminología y criminalística con el propósito de abrir una agencia de detectives privados, pero soy el primero que sabe perfectamente lo difícil y poco rentable que sería eso.
En este momento me propongo estudiar lenguajes de programación, empezando con python, con el fin de trabajar de eso, se me da bien la tecnología en general y antes hace tiempo ya había intentado programa en c++ para un curso de Arduino que se me dió bastante bien. Eh escuchado mil historias de gente que trabaja desde la comodidad de su casa m, gana muy bien y tiene mucho tiempo libre en este tipo de trabajos. Se que sin una carrera probablemente no puedo aspirar a tanto pero solo el hecho de no tratar con personas ya sería mil veces mejor.
Sin embargo el único problema es mi falta de motivación.
Eh estado muy deprimido recientemente precisamente por todo esto.
Me falta la motivación para siquiera levantarme de mi cama todos los días, no eh entrado a trabajar en 3 días y esto a su vez me estresa más.
Tengo aún menos motivación para estudiar las cosas que me gustaría estudiar como lo de los lenguajes de programación.
Y al final todo es un ciclo vicioso que me está asfixiando en este momento.
Otra cosa extra para estresarme más en la deuda que tengo. Debo 15,000 pesos de crédito, no tengo idea de porque pensé que sería una buena idea solicitarlo en primer lugar, y lo peor es que termine gastando lo en puras tonterías inútiles.
Todas estas cosas que les cuento se combinan y me dejan en el estado en el que estoy hoy en día, contemplando terminar con todo constantemente, si saben a lo que me refiero.
Me siento completamente solo es este problema, mi padre es más propenso a pedirme dinero que a ayudarme, no tengo una madre, el resto de mi familia también está batallando mucho económicamente como para apoyarme, y muchas veces siento que la única persona a mi lado es el amigo con el que me vine a vivir, que también está lidiando con su propio conjunto de problemas.
Y básicamente eso es todo en general, si alguien realmente leyó todo esto se lo agradezco infinitamente.
Realmente necesitaba desahogarme más que nada pero si hay algún consejo o recomendación que alguien pudiera darme lo apreciaría mucho.

Hi guys! Just for curiosity, I have always heard that 10 inch Hoosier tires only last about 1 competition lifetime (about 30km). Is that true? How many kilometers do they last to you? And also, whats the main difference in R20 and LCO compounds? How big is the difference between the performance and their lifetime?
Thanks!

The Nature of Predators was created by u/SpacePaladin15.
Special thanks to u/Saint-Andros for giving feedback on this first chapter's draft!
This is my first time writing a fanfic, or any multi-chapter story for that matter. Updates are likely to be slow and inconsistent. Your feedback is definitely appreciated, so if you have anything to say please leave a comment!
I hope you enjoy.
===
THE FOLLOWING PROGRAM IS RATED [TV-MA-HM] (FOR HUMAN-STANDARD MATURE AUDIENCES) AND CONTAINS:
- ADULT OR "PREDATOR-LIKE" THEMES
- COARSE LANGUAGE
VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
===
SLEEPWALK
CREATED BY NEKAN AND SIMON GREY
1 - Prologue to a Nightmare
===
JULY 8, 2136
Walk in, be polite, do your job, walk out, and no more.
It was the five-step mantra my feathered friend had given me to get me through the working days, and it’s served me quite well for the past couple of years. His voice was always a soothing guide, repeatedly ringing in the back of my head like a well-meaning wake-up call.
I was getting on in my years a little, at least it felt like it, so I still gladly accepted his help even after all this time. He was a polite fellow, almost as old as I was but far more able and proficient. Maybe he cared about me a little too much as he did many things for my convenience—he even got me my janitorial job in the first place—but who was I to turn away such a good friend?
I gave a satisfied tail swish as I said goodbye to Fevri, the receptionist’s lovely tone a soft farewell. The end of every shift always came with a calming walk back to my apartment building, like an extra treat for all the helpful work I’ve done. It was far enough from the office for the time to last but close enough to not be tiring, giving me a moment to appreciate the ambiance of the Capital and ‘mull things over’ as my friend would always encourage.
Well, mulling things over, almost everything was in its place. My job was still good; I was doing good. I was good!
My friend just hasn’t been visiting lately, which is fine. It’s happened a few times before, and he’s told me what to do to get through the day so many times that I know his instructions like the back of my paw.
I just hope he’s doing well too, and that he’ll be back soon to give me some medicine again to stop my recent headaches.
I didn’t know why, but recently I’ve been expecting something to happen to me. Something bad or good, I didn’t know. But this sort of feeling and the headaches always came up when I didn’t take my medicine.
My friend’s voice softly chided me, his advice echoing from the past. “Remember, Havan: you can’t get the medicine from any other doctor. You’ll get hurt and taken away from your home.”
The air was colder today. Strangely, I knew that for whatever reason it wasn’t why I felt a shiver go through me. I had no reason to be afraid, I was good! Always good!
I walked through the apartment building’s front door and swiftly made my way to my own unit. Before, it was much easier to push that feeling of—fear?—aside. Maybe something bad is coming this way.
Right to my doorstep.
I hurriedly locked the door behind me.
I shed my jumpsuit and tool belt, setting them aside on a rack. The jumpsuit wasn’t particularly dirty—for now, at least—so I could just have it washed some other time. My friend would understand. He always did. I just hope he’ll be back soon with more of my medicine. I don’t want to be bad.
After a small meal, it was time for bed. I couldn’t eat more as the headache was getting worse by the minute, ending my appetite.
My paws placed themselves over my forehead like useless cushions. The worst was yet to come; the bad dreams would arrive the moment I fell asleep. Sometimes, even the medicine wasn’t enough to stop them from invading my head like a predator on the hunt.
They were mostly the same. A woman and her child: a dream repeated forever like the infinity of space.\
For some reason, I felt like I should know them.
Whenever I tried to look at their faces, I could feel something rip my gaze away with claw and fanged force—when I could see them at the edges of my eyes, their empty faces were nothing but smudged paint on a watery canvas. Just out of reach, an orange-eyed predator snarled behind them.
It always scared me.
I’ve tried talking to my friend about it many times, but he never wanted to hear it. He’d look away and tell me to let it go, just take the medicine and forget the nightmares.
He was like me in the dream.
I hope he’ll be back soon.
Sometimes, he’d look ready to tell me something—staring straight at me mid-conversation. Then, he’d just look away all tired and heavy, deflating like someone had given him a weight to carry. He’d usually take his leave whenever those moments happened: “Farewell, Havan. See you next time.”
Now that I think about it, he also looked like that whenever I told him about the dream. Maybe he wished he could know them too.
​
​
JULY 11, 2136
I’m losing track, I think. I’m not sure. I’ve got a slow-burning headache that just won’t leave, simmering every part of my mind it could get its claws on. I can barely keep myself upright most of the time; I had to call in sick yesterday. My friend’s still not back with more medicine.
Medicine for what; I didn’t even know anymore.
Wake up.
“Shit… d-dammit,” I managed to croak out before hurling the rest of my lunch into the toilet. The act of cursing was paradoxically unknown yet familiar to my tongue—like an old routine left untouched for years.
All my dreams were relentless and mocking—I was rendered helpless to their onslaught. I couldn’t tell what was real and what was cruel imagination. In fact, the only things that felt real were the solid and smooth toilet and the force of my vomiting. I held on for dear life to save myself from the vortex churning around me.
A singular thought beckoned me again, a glaring beacon in a foggy sea of pain: ‘Wake up.’
There was nothing else to wake up to.
“DAMMIT!” I repeated before unceremoniously slumping back onto the floor. Something within me was changing—rapidly and viscerally. I was a stranger in my own body, adrift in a world far removed from the one I knew. I couldn’t breathe.
Someone was knocking on my door, calling my name.
I dragged myself out of the bathroom, feverish and frail, ignoring that weak voice in my head that asked: ‘What if it wasn’t your friend?’
I needed anything. Anything at all.
My body moved on its own, paws desperately reaching the doorknob. Somehow, I managed to unlock the door. It wasn’t my friend.
I would’ve screamed if I had the strength left for it. Instead, my legs gave way; my back eagerly greeted its old friend: the floor. Dragging myself backward with my vision blurred and hearing muted, the stranger came inside—crossing the threshold that marked my safety from the things my friend warned me about.
“Please… don’t hurt me…”
But the stranger marched on, grabbing ahold of me.
I curled into a pathetic shield, attempting to cover as much of myself as possible. Somehow, it all still felt like I was falling.
Through the blur, I heard the stranger’s voice. “Havan! It’s just me!”
Fevri?
The realization was a bullet through the skull, rattling my brain into something like focus. There it was: the receptionist’s young and frightened face. Lying in the hallway beyond the open door was a basket full of goods that were probably meant for me.
Whoops.
“Let’s get you lying down somewhere comfortable, okay? You need to rest. I’ll call a doctor—”
My head snapped back up. “No! Y-you shouldn’t! You can’t!”
“O-okay! Okay. No doctors. I’m sorry,” she reassuringly patted my shoulders after having dragged me to the side of my couch. “Look, forget that I ever mentioned it. Now, I need to pull you up onto the couch; is that fine with you?”
I limply nodded. I probably didn’t have the strength to do something as simple as that by myself.
Fevri pulled me up while that all too familiar voice in the back of my head spoke again: ‘She better keep her word, or I’ll…’
​
…
​
I didn’t finish that thought. What the hell was that all about? I wasn’t a violent man.
Was I? I can’t even recall who I am anymore. The vortex of dreams overtook me again, Fevri’s voice fading away as she momentarily left my side to grab the basket outside.
I was alone once again.
A predator’s face revealed itself in the blood-orange veil of my brain, sneering as it revealed itself to be the beckoning voice echoing through my skull.
‘WAKE UP.’
I fell.
I don’t know what it would mean if I’ll ‘wake up.’ Powerless, I lost myself to a seemingly infinite and dark slumber.
​
​
JULY 12, 2136
I arrived at the light at the end of the tunnel, the bottom of the bottomless pit.
My eyes opened, and a strange sense of peace washed over me. Coming from the television were alarm clock tones, an emergency broadcast stuck on the screen. ‘Predator arrival,’ ‘evacuate,’ and ‘await further instructions’ were the only phrases I took note of before rising from the couch.
This wasn’t my home.
The window blinds were closed throughout my apartment. Outside, the city was deathly silent. I didn’t need to look to know that there were likely a few bodies lying face-down on the street, casualties of panicked stampedes to the bunkers.
What happened to me?
Decades of half-remembered memories flooded outward, smashing through the dam of my mind. To my horror, I realized this was the first time I’d felt my heartbeat in a long, long while.
My Krakotl ‘friend’ was an exterminator; he always wore his uniform whenever he visited me. The medication was for predator disease.
I’m not ‘Havan.’ I didn’t use to be, and I couldn’t remember my real name.
The woman and child in my dreams were my wife and son—
With no other outlet for my frightened rage, I resorted to slamming my foot into the side of an empty trash can.
I gritted my teeth as pain shot up through my leg. For the first time, I felt the stiffness and aching that came with being middle-aged and taking those damn predator disease pills for years. Twenty years. I’d been out of it for twenty fucking miserable years.
A small part of me wished I stayed ‘asleep.’ I cast the thought aside almost immediately.
The exterminator had never given his name. How convenient. I had nowhere to go.
I should be weeping.
My head turned towards the bedroom door as Fevri walked out, clearly having just woken up. “W-what’s going on? What was that noise? Oh, Havan, you’re awake!”
“Nothing,” I winced, forcing the scowl off my face. “I just… accidentally knocked a trash can over. I should be the one asking you what’s going on.”
Fevri shook her head, trying to focus through her drowsiness. “Uhm, alarms started ringing out through the city, and that emergency broadcast said it was predators. N-nothing’s happened, though. It’s been about an hour and a half since it started, but it’s been so quiet.”
“You stayed.”
That seemed to wake her up. “I couldn’t leave you—you could’ve gotten hurt if something did happen! I… I couldn’t ask for help bringing you to the nearest shelter—everyone else was too busy trying to get themselves into safety.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say to that. I sat back down on the couch, rubbing my paws across my face as I mulled over everything.
I bet my past self had never felt as lost as I did at this moment. All I could feel was the weight of my newfound clarity and my current confusion—a balancing act of anguish and pain.
“Is something wrong, Havan? Don’t worry about the predator raid; if nothing’s happened so far then we’re probably safe and sound.”
“No, it’s…”
I paused myself. Did I actually want to tell Fevri everything? She was only an acquaintance from work.
But she did stick around and help me. That said a lot about the kind of person she is.
Call it foolishness, call it loneliness—I told the truth, recounting everything I could to her. Right now, she was the only friend I had. She was horrified, of course, but surprisingly it was directed to my circumstances rather than myself.
Fevri sat down beside me, placing a sympathetic paw on my shoulder. “I know it isn’t much, but… I’m really sorry. I thought—we all thought…”
“Thought what?”
“Well, we always had a feeling that you had some form of predator disease. You were amicable, sure, but you were always… distant? Plus, you never talked about your family and always dodged questions about them. We all thought you lost them to a raid and it just made sense to us.”
She nervously flicked her tail. “Guess we weren’t entirely wrong, in a messed up way. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
I sighed, flicking my ears dismissively to show I wasn’t offended. Everything else about me would always be worse by comparison, a pillar of distress as strong as an Arxur’s jaw and equally as biting.
What else can I do now? I have no leads. All I had were blurry faces and names I didn’t know.
…
Why’d he stop?
It made no sense for my ‘friend’ to suddenly stop medicating me for weeks. The fact that he had consistent access to medication to give me made me suspect that he was an exterminator-specialist, which would also make him a doctor specializing in treating predator-diseased individuals like me.
In fact, none of what he did made any sense at all. Why go through the effort of giving me a false name—to give me instructions on how to live by myself and dodge questions?
He had been trying to protect me. Was it a fucked up way of doing it? Absolutely, but it didn’t change the fact that he actually helped. For all I knew, he was the one thing stopping me from finding a new home in a correctional facility.
My tail twitched with irritation. Fevri looked expectantly at me. “What now?”
“I don’t know. I guess looking for the exterminator to get some answers would be my safest bet, but I’m not walking to the nearest guild office or the damn headquarters to ask for him.”
“Maybe I can? After the lockdown, anyway.”
“I don’t know. Honestly, this sounds like a stupid idea,” I shook my head, another sigh escaping from my lips. “Hell, I’m lucky you still want to help me for some damn reason I can’t think of.”
To my surprise, she let out an amused snort. “It’s the right thing to do?”
“I’m predator-diseased. Probably dangerous in some way.”
“Well, you won’t hurt me, will you? Besides, you look like you really need the help.”
She didn’t get my point, but fine. I guess that answer was enough for now.
Fevri must’ve noticed my reluctance, making her continue. “Look, you don’t seem to be a bad man. Just… someone caught up in something really horrible. Everyone back in the office—myself included—liked you and felt sorry for you, you know? That hasn’t changed with me, at least.”
“Alright, alright,” I stood up from the couch, giving in to the receptionist’s offer. There was something else that made her want to stick around; I wasn’t an idiot.
For now? I couldn’t doubt her. She’s my only real friend; anything is better than being alone.
“I’m gonna clean up.”
She gave a nod of acknowledgment as I entered the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I stared at the unfamiliar visage in the mirror, examining every little line and nick that marked my face. The graying Venlil in front of me was someone else entirely.
I was old. I was exhausted. I was likely insane—but I was awake.
My true trial is just beyond the walls of my apartment building once the lockdown ends. The past twenty years of being lost and asleep had only served as a prologue to a nightmare.
The worst was yet to come.

It drives me crazy sometimes i get so fkin pissed off , i have a friend that used to smoke weed w me , everytime we buying we split in half , for ex: i give 25 euros he gives 25 euros and i go buy or he go buy, now it's been almost 4 months that he told me that he's sober off weed and he quit ... i remember one day i was at home chilling smoking... then ring ring got freaked out who tf is gonna ring at 1.00 am , gave a look and its him , welcomed him ect... after some minutes he told me can i take this little piece i have big headache at night and i want to smoke, i felt bad and told him i dont want to ruin your recovery i even told him to just give it some time as 4 months is a big success for me , the longest break i've took is 5 days and got back to smoking, after long talk he decided to take and he went home... the next day he asked if im going to buy i said yes and told him do you want me to get some for you , what he said ? oh can you only leave 2 joints for me and that hes tight on money ... i accepted , now its been almost a week everyday asking for a joint or two , asking if im going to buy , now i got so tired of this shit and i really dont want to shout in his face or anything cuz hes a close friend and i know him for so long i just want some peace and not get asked again, mf im tight on money too ... (Sorry for long post , wish you great day ) Thanks for reading🙏

No, this is not a shitpost. I mean it. Genuinely.
Anyways, welcome back to yet another simp post by user 3rachazone! I'm your resident Joshua Hong and Han Jisung simp (I just repeated this word again but it's fine, please ignore <3) and today, I'd like to introduce you to yet another man for whom I fell badly. So badly I ended up scraping my knee in the process.
He is known as the angel of his group, and he is exactly like Joshua in every way possible (I'm starting to wonder if I have a type LMAO). He used to go to church, plays the guitar, never gets angry (his fellow member has seen him mad but never angry), is the epitome of a gentleman and treasures his mother to death (he literally said that if smthg were to happen to him, the last words he’d want her to hear are, “I love you”💔). Oh, and did I mention that he's addicted to cereal?
He is Jacob Bae, the one and only bae (pun intended... I guess?)
Jacob is the lead vocalist of The Boyz and was born in Toronto. Or precisely Mississauga (cuz he’s a big babie who gets triggered if you say the former ashgfcbhj). He had a lot of interest in various activities, particularly sports. Back in school, he'd participate in volleyball, basketball, rep basketball and the like but his interest could never really be sustained in just one. Eventually, he began taking vocal classes in order to become a musician and also tried to learn how to play the guitar but gave up on that too.
He’d planned on taking a year off after graduating high school but before that, auditioned for Loen Entertainment. However, since he wasn't good at dancing, he was rejected. But the company said they'd like to see him again so that was how he found himself learning how to dance in Korea. He disliked that too and called his mom who rebuked him for wanting to give up so easily when it hadn’t even been that long (spoke fax, no print👏 and I thank her for that cuz then her son wouldn’t be who he is today and I wouldn’t have discovered him and consequently wouldn’t have fallen in love with him (/j). To him, however, that’s an entirely different story🤚)
On a srs note, what rlly struck me with this knowledge was the fact that it wasn't the drastic culture change from Canada to Korea that affected Jacob or made him cry (he was actually pretty good at adjusting which again is awe-inspiring). It was the fact that he felt like he wasn't good enough at dancing. But this man worked so hard to hone his skills that he performed Billie Eilish's Bad Guy along with Juyeon, Changmin and Sunwoo on 1Million's YouTube channel which I think is an impressive feat for a non dancer. Not to mention that Changmin himself praised him and said he was proud of him for improving.
Another video I'd like to share with y'all is his cover of Sunroof by Nicky Youre and dazy. As someone who receives their daily dose of serotonin from this song, I think he did full justice to it, though I will admit I wish it was longer xD
Oh, and if this wasn't enough, here's his fancam from Post Malone's I Like You performance. It's such a feel good one, where he's all smiles and vibing to the song but also just slaying hard with those moves, if ya get what I mean? Like he srsly wasn't kidding when he said he was aiming for a spot in TBZ's dance line.
Apart from possessing some real good dancing skills, Jacob also happens to have a really sweet voice. Like everytime I listen to him talk, I find myself immersing in whatever he says. Basically he could talk abt the most mundane thing in the entire universe and he’d still have my full attention. And when he sings, I find myself levitating and asking myself if that's what you hear outside the gates of heaven?
Ladies and gentlemen, presenting Mr. Sweet Voice's cover of 'I.F.L.Y' by Bazzi! (disclaimer: Please exercise caution while watching this video cuz he looks ethereal in this and his visuals might blind you❗️)
Now, now... I could've decided to share the studio version too but there's smthg incredibly serene and delicate abt a man wearing all white and sitting on a bench, playing the guitar among a field of flowers, smiling prettily and singing abt how there's no other girl for him and that the one he likes is the only one for him and that what he's actually trying to say is that he rlly loves her (he’s so cute he replaced the word ‘fucking’ with rlly🫠 and um… more on that later)
Funny story: I made a (former) friend of mine watch this video and after it was over, I couldn't stop giggling like an idiot and was like, "OMG HE'S SOOO GOOD DID YOU SEE HOW MUCH I WAS HYPERVENTILATING???!!"
And she squealed back with equal fervour, "AAHHHHH NO CUZ I WAS TOO BUSY FOCUSING ON HIM!!!" which is, well, understandable lol.
Other song covers of his which I'd highly recommend are: Heartbreak Anniversary (with Sangyeon) by Giveon, Wherever You Are by One Ok Rock, and Becoming an Adult by Kim Na-young (listening to this one made me realise how much I'd kill for him to cover Loser by Cheeze😭😭)
He was also nice enough to treat us to his soothing vocals by releasing his mixtape 'Kindle' on his birthday! All the songs are so chill, warm and worth listening to if you had a rough day and just needed to unwind.
On Dive Studios, Jacob admitted that he was pretty unsure of himself in the sense that he had a low self esteem (wanted to shake him badly when he said that while yelling, “SAY THAT AGAIN??? YOUR VOICE GIVES ME COMFORT AND THE WAY YOU DANCE LITERALLY BLOWS ME AWAY YOU DUMBASS WDYM??!!) He claimed that someone would compliment him on his dancing or singing and while he'd thank them, he'd still feel like it wasn't enough. I hope that while he continues to be the best version of himself, he can also pat himself on the back for constantly having shown major improvement.
Another thing which I rlly admire abt him is how he acknowledges that while he’s the type to bottle up his emotions, he also wishes he was allowed to be angry because he doesn’t want to be known as just a ‘kind person’ which I definitely agree with. It can get tiring sometimes, having to constantly live up to a certain image in your group and wanting to break free of it.
On a lighthearted note, he might be one of the few idols that doesn't swear at all! He also has the patience of a saint, considering it's very hard for him to get angry. Even Eric claimed that while he'd seen him mad, he'd never seen him angry. He also shared an anecdote on The Daebak Show where he said that while they were trainees, they took acting lessons. Jacob’s script had a swear word so he told the teacher he couldn’t say it😭
In fact, he himself revealed that the last time he got really pissed off was as a kid because his brother or his cousin had thrown a deck of playing cards at his back due to which he yelled at them and even cursed them out🥴
He never got angry again. And never swore.
And even if he did swear, he'd send a silent prayer, asking for forgiveness until eventually, he stopped doing it entirely. But now he just does it in his head or uses a word that’s similar to the curse word when he wants to be verbal💀
His friendship with Kevin also makes me so envious like fight me idc but there will never be a more iconic duo than them!
Srsly, a friend like Jacob is what everyone needs. He’s so supportive of Kevin, always hyping him up whenever he doubts himself. There was a live where he was playing a game on his computer and Kevin was reading the comments and obviously, there were a few hateful ones telling him to go. Jacob made him stay with that pouty face of his and assured him he wasn’t being a bother :(
Or that one time when a comment asked him, “What does Kevin mean to you?” And he replied with the biggest smile on his face, “He is everything to me!”
Or when Kevin made Eric Nam ask him, “Would you shave off your eyebrows if it could earn Kevin a chance to meet Beyoncé?” and he replied, “It’s one of his biggest dreams and if me looking funny for a few months makes that happen, then… I mean it’s not permanent”.
Which friend does that???😭😭
Anyways, I could come up with more moments of him being the sweetest and softest bean ever but I’ll leave it at that!
Happy birthday, Jacob! Ever since I got into The Boyz, you’ve made me smile with your smile and you’ve healed me with your voice. I hope you’re always healthy and happy and I hope IST can let you release a solo album someday so you can work on (cheesy romantic) songs (because you + them = a deadly combo my heart won’t be able to handle) with the sound you think matches you (I’m talking honeyed airy vocals with an acoustic guitar but you do you, my guy) I’ll be on the sidelines, always cheering you on! I love you loads!💕

**retaliation after you file a complaint, improper discipline, workplace harassment
Hi legaladvice
I am trying to see if my wife has a case against her old employer. She just quit this past Saturday after a horrible and inflammatory manager-to-employee meeting held Friday. To preface, this all occurred in Howard County, MD.
Here are the details:

• She started this job in June of 2022, and has received consistent harassment from a maintenance manager. My wife was a leasing manager for an apartment/townhome complex. From the beginning, the relationship with the maintenance manager has been hostile. Every time she contacted him for questions or ticket inquiries, he would respond aggressively, would yell & curse, and berate her about even asking questions at all. This made it extremely difficult to do her job from the beginning as she needed to be able to commute maintenance inquiries back to the tenant/contractors who are asking for said info.
  
• 3 Months into this job, the maintenance manager, after yelling at her about something mundane, stood up and got in her face, acting as though he wanted to get physical to shut her down. This is when she first complained to management about her treatment from the said maintenance manager.
  
• Since this incident, he never changed his tune, continued to be verbally aggressive and combative, which leads her to believe he did not receive proper discipline from management.
  
• Now the incident that made her quit.
  

o Part of her job is coordinating with maintenance and Government housing programs to make sure a unit can pass a state inspection before a tenant using government assistance can move in. About a month ago (late April/early may), a unit she was coordinating failed inspections, and the maintenance person in charge was the same one who has been harassing her. (the maintenance manager)
o The maintenance manager was hostile about this situation and was not communicative about the fixes needed to pass inspection, and the unit had failed for a second time. She went to management again to complain about the treatment she was receiving from the maintenance manager. At this time, the property manager and the maintenance manager are fully aware of the fixes that need to be made to pass inspection.
o The unit fails for a third time. When my wife called the maintenance manager about the 4th inspection being scheduled and if the fixes had been completed, the maintenance manager screams at her, and lies about the day he received the list of things needed to be fixed. He said he just received it the other day. (When he has had it for weeks at this point). My wife called the property manager immediately. When she described how the maintenance manager has been treating her about this situation and since she has started this position, the property manager said his behavior “is verbally abusive”. The property manager also said her, and another office worker have also received this kind of treatment from the maintenance manager before as well.
o A couple days later, the day of the 4th inspection, my Wife went to the unit and saw some items on the list of needed fixes were still not completed.
o She texted photos of the unit to the property manager, and went back to the main office. She went to the property managers office to discuss this situation and all the incidents of maintenance requests not being done in a timely manner. The property manager texted the photos to the maintenance manager and called him herself. He yelled at her, and tried to act like he still didn’t know what needed to be done. The property manager told my wife to go back to unit and describe to the maintenance manager what needs to be done in detail (something she has already done). My wife said “If you send me back there, and he continues to treat me abusively, I am going to curse him out, I am tired of this treatment”. The property manager said Okay and sent her anyway.
o At the unit in question, My wife meets the maintenance manager at the door. When she was about to enter the unit, the maintenance manager grabs her shoulder. My wife says to him “do not fucking touch me”, brushed him off, and walks in the unit.
o At the front door, the first thing he does is “correct my language” about the unit and fixes. Being super combative about the list of fixes and what the property manager had sent him photos of. My wife says “do we have to fight about this, or can I just show you what needs to be done?”. She begins showing him different things that need to be fixed, and he yells at her the entire time saying these items cannot be fixed. My wife responds saying “then you can fucking explain to the inspectors why that is this time”. She goes to hand him the keys to the unit, and the maintenance manager grabs her hand and holds onto it, trying to make her not leave. After she had yelled at him to not touch her multiple times. My wife yelled again, “do not fucking touch me!” she yanked her hand back from him and left the unit.
o She goes back to the main office, and she immediately tells the property manager what happened (briefly) that she did indeed curse him out and he grabbed her. She didn’t get to tell the full story because the property manager was heading into a meeting at the time.
o After that meeting, the property manager left the office entirely, so my wife wasn’t able to share the full details of the ordeal, but she was able to tell the full story to the assistant property manager.
o The next day, the property manager called my wife and said “I understand both sides of this situation.” This made my wife confused and she said back “I will respond with the energy that I am met with from here on out”.
 The property manager had previously given my wife assurances that she should stand up for herself. That my wife could ask people to leave if they were being harassing. Basically, giving my wife a sense of autonomy about where to draw the line.
o A few days later, My wife officially meet with the property manager about what had occurred at the unit. The property manager said my wifes behavior was unprofessional, and that “corporate would have written you up for this had they known”. (the property manager was talking about the cursing…. Which the maintenance manager does ALL THE TIME to the office workers). When my wife reminded The property manager that she said she was going to curse the maintenance manager out if she was sent to the unit and if he got aggressive with her, the property manager said, “I cannot control your actions”. The property manager could’ve gone to the unit herself and met the maintenance manager but chose to send my wife knowing this situation was unraveling. When my wife mentioned the maintenance manager getting physical and grabbing her, the property manager brushed it off completely saying “you did not make me aware of that”. (even though my wife mentioned it before the property manager left the office that day) However, My wife later learned that the maintenance manager told the property manager that my wife yelled “don’t fucking touch me”. So, the property manager did in fact know that the situation got physical, and still chose to verbally berate my wife and call her reaction unprofessional.
o Here is where the retaliation comes in. Since March of this year, my wife and the property manager came to a gentlemans agreement that my wife would work one less day (4 days a week) while still being paid for full time work. My wife suffers from chronic pain, and there is a surgery scheduled for August to address it, and the property manager let her work one less day a week since that helped manage the pain while still being able to work. After the meeting about the unit and the maintenance manager, the property manager said my wife would begin coming into the office 5 days a week, saying she had “officially asked corporate” about her working one less day a week, and they had “listed my wife’s Job”. This is a clear sign of retaliation. The property manager has known about the upcoming surgery and my wife’s health issues, but chose to punish her anyway.
o Not only did she receive unjust punishment for an abusive situation, but she was also made to feel unsafe and uncomfortable at work knowing the property manager is okay with things getting physical. My wife had complained several times about the abuse she was receiving, and nothing was ever done. It seems the property manager was trying to silence her about the situation to get her to move on. Because of not feeling safe in that environment any longer, she quit the next day.
So, do you think my wife has a case? Happy to provide more details if asked.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500

★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822

★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616

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★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300

★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629

★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326

★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233

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★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110

★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840

★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784

★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759

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★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751

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★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156

★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544

★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318

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★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574

★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257

★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255

★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287

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★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461

★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436

★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353

★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212

★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363

★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269

★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192

★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126

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★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227

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★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214

★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192

★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105

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★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216

★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198

★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111

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★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228

★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201

★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108

★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105

★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99

★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85

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★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111

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★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375

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★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137

★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608

★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

⎯

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75

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★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359

★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77

★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48

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★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733

★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292

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★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212

★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160

★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59

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★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72

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AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55

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Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623

Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54

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StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55

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M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465

M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55

M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50

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USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139

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AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234

P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147

Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - 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Hi everyone! This is a complete English translation of the Aniara sequel book by Harry Martinson called Doriderna that was put together after the author died. This translation was put together using various translation programs that can be found online, so I can't guarantee that it is a perfect translation, but it's better than nothing. I will also post the original in Swedish so you can improve the translation or look up words etc. if you want. Hope you enjoy!
I would also like to let everyone know that I am also working on my own Aniara fan fiction short story that I call "The Lost Voices of Aniara". This story tells about the events aboard the Aniara from the view point of another passenger and attempts to add more details to the story. It should be ready in the next week or two.
​
HARRY MARTINSON
The Dorides (Doriderna)
Remaining poems and prose pieces in selection and with preface by Tord Hall Albert Bonniers Förlag
​
PREFACE
For reasons I will not go into here, Harry Martinson did not publish any new work in the last years of his life. There is therefore a very large literary legacy, the publication of which began in the fall of 1978 with "Längs ekots stigar" (Along the paths of the echo), published by Georg Svensson. This collection contains only a few purely scientific poems - the emphasis is on nature poetry. The selection was made from unpublished material - which had nevertheless reached the proof stage - in three previous collections.
It remains to address other lines of thought in Harry Martinson's work: the ideas in Aniara, which in various forms occupied his imagination until the end. To follow the continuation of this great theme - at least in part - is what I am trying to do in this second selection from the surviving archive.
​
The 103 songs in Aniara were part of a larger set of poems, and the author then worked for several years on a sequel, to be called 'The Dorids', the people of the tribe of Doris. Around 1959 there were about 80 songs - most of them in more or less completed drafts. The dominant figure in the Dorids would not be Isagel or the Mimarobe, but Nobia, the Samaritan from the tundra planet and deportation site of Mars. Nobia would be a norna (fate goddess), though not a cruel goddess of fate, but a norna who weaves goodness into the fabric of the world.
But the whole project remained a large-scale endeavor. The reasons were many: illness, world events, which seemed to be moving towards a fulfillment of the prophecies in Aniara, and which gave him an increasingly dark view of life: he told me that "Aniara has become a neurosis" ... I feel like Mima being blown apart'. But the decisive reason was surely his demand for absolute freedom in his creativity. He did not want to be confined, and the result was, as he himself said, 'I have stepped out of Aniara'.
The fact that Harry Martinson stepped out of Aniara, and thus also out of the Dorides, does not at all mean that he left the motifs or ideas found there, which cover the scientific field from atoms to stars. Rather, it means that he was able to write without direct connection to the characters of Aniara and the Dorides in particular.
I have therefore considered it justified to call this entire collection the Dorides, even though the prose pieces and several poems do not have a clearly visible connection with such a title.
In order to comment briefly on the selection, I would like to say a few words about Harry Martinson's attitude towards modern science (it is my intention to return to this subject in more detail).
There are two main lines. One is deterministic, and has its roots in classical physics, founded by Newton, which dominated until the end of the 19th century. It has a philosophical form in the law of causation, which means that if you know enough facts about a certain course of events in the present and in the past, you can precisely specify the course of events in the future. Examples of such events in the 'big world' - the macrocosm - are solar and lunar eclipses.
But in the world of atoms - the microcosm - this determinism does not apply. Heisenberg demonstrated this through his uncertainty relation, also known as the indeterminacy principle. In the atoms, individual events are indeterminate, we cannot discern any causality - there is randomness. But chance can be mastered by the methods of statistics, and we must content ourselves with a "statistical causality", which describes the course of events in the atom with the highest possible degree of probability.
It is this second, indeterministic line that has long been followed by most physicists. But there is one major exception, and that is Einstein. At the 1927 meeting of physicists in Brussels, for example, he asked Bohr, Heisenberg and others with mild irony whether they really believed that God plays dice - "ob der liebe Gott würfelt". Einstein was convinced that the universe follows an ordering principle, a geometric structure, which can be called a world soul. This is a pantheistic view that is reminiscent of Spinoza.
Similar ideas are already present in Aniara, but in this selection the picture has become more sharply defined. Harry Martinson does not believe that chance plays a decisive role in the course of the world, as is clear from several poems and prose pieces. He believes more in Einstein than in dozens of other Nobel Prize winners. Apart from these authorities, he follows his intuition.
His approach to religion has often been quoted: he chooses the Riddler over the God. This belief is reflected in 'The Riddle'. In 'Poems on Light and Darkness', published in 1971, Harry Martinson, with 'The Inner Light' and 'The Bird in the Phoenix Bell', presents the events inside the atom itself. These poems show that - although 'Aniara' and 'The Dorides' are more about stars than atoms - he never lost his interest in the microcosm. In this selection, it is the atoms that are more interesting than the stars.
The bard enters the atom. He describes the course of events in a world which is completely beyond our senses and which, despite the enormous aids of science, we will probably never be able to understand exactly. The story itself probably comes from Gamow's book "Mr. Tompkins Explores the Atom". Published in Swedish translation in 1946, it is, along with "Mr. Tompkins in Wonderland" (also 1946), the versatile Gamow's best popular science books. Harry Martinson rated them highly.
The two poems 'Submerged as in a dream but still awake' and 'Actually, the comprehensibility was slight' depict a journey of thought into the atom, and the same motif recurs in several other places.
The poem "A Cosmic Thickness Lying Boundlessly Spread" poetically depicts a world development related to the hypothesis of the "stationary universe" put forward by Hoyle and others, and to Klein-Alfvén's "symmetrical cosmology". For several reasons - mainly aesthetic - Harry Martinson did not like the theory of 'the big bang', which was celebrated by most scientists. His poem should have been written quite a long time ago, and perhaps he would have changed his mind if he had been given the opportunity to understand what the "cosmic background radiation" - with a temperature of about 3 degrees above absolute zero - means for the credibility of "The big bang". It took natural scientists some time to become convinced that this radiation can best be interpreted as a fading glow after an unimaginable cosmic explosion some 18 billion years ago.
This selection also contains several pieces of prose, which in general do not need any comment. But I would like to mention a few. For "The Figuration Patterns of the Goddancer's Juggling Program", in three sections, there is a drawing by Harry Martinson, reproduced on the cover of this collection. The spread comes from Hindu philosophy: we see 'Siwa's juggling dance before Brama'. The dominant curves are so-called lemniscates, which were already known to the ancient Greeks. The lemniscate looks like an eight and is the mathematical symbol for infinity. It is defined as the trajectory of a point under the condition that the product of its distances to two given points is constant. In the center of the drawing there are several small curves. They are ellipses, and an ellipse - also first studied by the Greeks - is defined as the trajectory of a point under the condition that the sum of its distances to two given points is constant. The result is a geometric pattern, similar to a flower, which at the same time provides a poetic image of the complex interplay of forces in the atom with outward and inward energy impulses The juggler finds it increasingly difficult to work with his ball-particles as he progresses through the periodic table of the elements. In the end, he "dances the spectral theme in the dance of the Phoenix" - a symbol of the indestructibility of both energy and poetry, and a recurring motif in Martinson's poetry.
"Delsaga om tidens ariadnetråd" (Part of the saga of the Ariadne thread of time) is almost a fantasy about four-dimensional space, where you have to be careful not to get on the wrong track. The selection of prose pieces ends with "Some fairies dancing in the summer night near a quiet lake". It is a cheerful tale where the author combines a love of the Swedish summer with a love of light.
​
I made this selection at the direct request of Harry. He even said several times that I should have all his scientific poems and prose pieces. But I think I judged this offer correctly when I saw it as an expression of his great generosity towards his friends. I always replied that he himself should complete and select what was to be published. But in his last years he did not want to publish anything. I therefore promised to make a selection if he did not change his mind.
​
He did not, and this collection is the result.
Finally, I would like to thank Ingrid Martinson and Georg Svensson for the understanding and assistance they have given me in bringing this selection to fruition.
​
Tord Hall
​
​
The Dorides (Doriderna)
The book you hold was written in Mima's hall.
Now, on a secret wavelength, it is sent home to you, my friend, who for some years inhabits a spherical beach called the Valley of Doris.
In other words, it was written so close to your own being that nothing could be closer to you than those described here. You are one of them.
​
Over the graves, the indifferent wind spreads
the whisper of the immortal gods
that no loss is foreseen in the grand scheme of things.
But what do the gods - those wasteful billionaires of the heavens - know about the beautiful and wonderful Doris?
how she was worth saving forever
and that whoever loved her
can never be comforted by the gods' continued waste.
About her a bird sings now alone in the tree of the grave. Of her as she was, the glorious one, if no other, the Dorides' thrush sings.
​
The window was full of stars,
The Leonids' swarm of stars came, then you know the time.
Autumn was gone, its yellowing burnt.
The lookout tower, closed on the wooded mountains.
I stood as a child of a time that saw the stars detach from the roofs towards a room where novas frightened a more distant valley, I found other myths than those I was used to picking hurled at me from the space of the Leonids.
I stood in the cathedral of fear of dreams.
The great copper woman who lay there with her back soldered to the lid of the sarcophagus drove horror into me, cast my foot with lead.
That the copper woman knew who I was, I immediately sensed as a deadly weight, and that I had been summoned here by herself, by the queen of copper, of that I was certain.
In empty benches sat forgotten years, from the emptiness of the auditorium the organ pipes shone like stalactites in the vault of a cave and there was nothing, no light, no hint that gathered my crumbling courage.
For everything was fulfilled as it was written in stone once when the water abandoned the green and it was said that man will go away and become the dead slave of the dead dust.
And as I stood there gripped, filled with horror
for this judgment and epitaph
which was predetermined and rehearsed
in the mute trumpet of the seraphim of the stones,
bells fell suddenly from the towers to the earth that rocked with an ore-broken thunder, and the copper woman rose, a scream of remembrance drawn from afar to her lips as she drew me in close to her copper body in terrified death.
He woke up. There was light. It was day.
And the Samaritan Nobia sat silent, but still heard the echo of the screams his dreams had squeezed out of his fear.
She searched for words simple enough for a stranger to grasp, but not so simple as to drive away his trust, hardly won yet.
In simple action she finally found them.
And she stood up and smiled with milk
From the moors of Gondrin to the mouth of this fugitive.
​
​
It is no exaggeration to say that space gave us long winter evenings rolled into one - the one that lasts. Our leisure time finally became a grim question with ice in our eyes and a frozen flame.
It became necessary to tell stories from reality - as it can be taken. I chose to tell about King Basii, who, supported by Chefone, forcibly turned himself into a god and magician in a celestial drama.
The Goldonder King felt like God and determined to live up to the gods he built himself a city in the sky.
It was a global world city of goldonders assembled into a kind of hive heaven.
But Basil's space-city, though it contained twelve million men in his service, was not enough for him; he had another built, and the greatest city in the world was soon in space. That city was a marvel to behold: a mighty golden dome, surrounded by three bionomically serving drabants, one of which was called the Vegetable City, one the Fish Drabant, and the third the Sting.
​
The names reveal their role and purpose.
So Basii sits in his heavenly land. The aquarium dragon orbits faithfully and Stings follows it with fattened animals and the vegetable moon amounts to the redwood.
The golden dome was the city of retreat for all climbers and celestial rebels, for gamma was a poison to all alike and all poor and rich alike had to choose between death and escape.
So many preferred the city of Basil.
But although he rules over twelve million
inhabitants of the great city of space, he is still very rarely happy.
And although the dragons in a faithful circle
raise animals and grow fish and wheat
Basil's only pleasure is when he gets
with Vulvis, the royal slave, to bathe in Lethe.
But all the deliciously good virginity
that can be enjoyed in Basil's harem
is in its nakedness a skin of fear.
of frightened dissimulation. And his love story
...is but a tale to be seen from the outside..,
and all his lust a forced voluptuousness.
​
Thus in The Night of Aniara I draw a little picture that everyone can understand from the rich treasure of reality.
And every time I make an arabesque in the hall of Mima about this space grotesque that Basil's space city can probably be said to be, I can for an hour or so make people sigh: the best is here anyway.
From Basil's false heaven we preserve. No, I'd rather travel with Aniara.
But soon the alarm goes off. The bells proclaim that the images of the fairy tale are overtaken by visions here that distress ignites.
And quickly to the halls I return.
​
The Goldonder's garden bubbled with glamour. A party was being held there and Chefone was there. He showed us a picture of the smith of happiness: the goldonder king Basii, a portrait jubilantly taken on the day the fifteen thousandth goldonder lay in the field ready for the wave of endlessness.
Then we were each seized by thoughtfulness and went to our own in solitude.
For in every ship of this number there was a Mima locked up in its cage.
The Rapid criminal was much loved and could operate as he pleased under the protection of the admiration he aroused. He always appeared at great speeds and abducted women whom he brought to Chefone in light blue rapid rockets.
Of course it was criminal, the people of the valley thought, but the charm was so close to the deed that the rampart was breached by sheer admiration and open worship soon followed the advice of restraint at the murder pedal.
​
Tucked away in a corner of our gondola, I pretend to smile at some rough fellows who spend their evenings with mockery and violence, with a devilish flutter as their sole aim.
They look at me and find me mortified,
- The clear approval is what they expect...
and I'm close to being squeezed badly
every time they jokingly glance at my grave door.
The brute is approaching, his dull face with many a foolish whim weighing on his mind.
And many a scowl missed by pigs from the worst corners of the soul he throws at me.
And when, full of fear, I strike with depleted strength in the dull face, the troll is only amused by my blow and raises his eyebrow with interest.
Then I flee between the troll's legs and out the other side of the danger of death.
How this happened can only be fully explained by the light of the gopher and the fourth tensor theory.
​
Here came the sober, composed and sober man who always kept his soul in trim and stuck to the dry, honest maxims of life.
Now he went into the fire with his imagination.
His cool reason was completely burned His sober composure was fried in seconds when the photo turbo in Xinombra exaggerated the cold matter.
And yet I can't help but admire the man as he made his way to the office where he had been employed for many years
and where, despite offers to flee to the tundra, he provided punch cards for thousands who broke up every day.
There died a man who never raised his voice, who always remained true to his calm tone, the martyr of calm composure who was burned when the cruel fires of excess were lit.
​
One is often chilled to the rock crystal by everything one hears before the ear falls like gray-white ash into the cremation hall.
And the girl from Rind who sees nothing is often heard to ask beyond the eye: how is the world of such torment visible? What is to be seen in this madness, where eeriness against eeriness is heard to answer?
Cultivating insight seemed futile
and many fell away from the faithful crowd.
and its program which was to see through
so that with the transparency of evil
as lens and instrument
try to find new signs
and new ways for the land of Gond.
Most people grew tired and withdrew from the room of the Truth Service, and Nobia sat for long periods almost alone, trying to hold on to her looms, always tormented
by the blood moisture of evil memories, the echoes of horror
surrounded her days
and made the Mara a bedfellow
who tore the fabric of the noman
and raped Nobia's dream
and the mood of life over the moors of Gondria.
It is as important to us to have friends
in the houses of distant worlds as at home by
the familiar road of the green earth.
You are reflected in endless eyes, watched by immense spectators.
They never interfere, but they watch the sewing and the mining,
the nurse and doctor on the rounds and the weapons in the shamelessly cruel wars.
Your own position under their eyes may be likened to the position you take with one whom you do not wish to grieve, but to share joy and to please.
So spoke the old astronomer, and then laid his head down to rest.
And he went smiling to the eternity that had been waiting by his side all his life.
His forehead shone with its ideas, even in the dead of death in the years of space.
He was among those who know the fairies of everything, those who get to comb Berenice's hair.
​
But for the longest time I still want to believe that this is the torment of an evil dream and the ship Aniara a phantom from which I will wake up in the Valley of Doris.
Perhaps everything is a nightmare and I want to wait with poison and a knife. They say there are dreams of a kind that seem as long as a man's life.
Out of the dust you were born, from its gifts you were supported.
You did not manage the gift, many a meadow you made desolate.
What is beyond this sea is called Going down deep among riddles too great to be found in a grave.
Faith can never cover more than what you see in spirit.
​
All the other things are too much to bear.
Do you hear the sound of the rescue team calling from an emergency station that is one of a thousand others, regardless of faith?
Now guess where the road leads and what Paradise is.
One of a thousand rescue stations scattered along the coast here.
Now I want to sing to my ear and ask it to listen to a voice that descends not to destroy the language I have collected for comfort. For the comfort of life and death, I whisper the price of sensitivity every time the sinful flow of language storms the breeze of the spirit.
​
One night Heba lay awake in the city of Aniara and heard the painter's joyful painting.
The skilled varnisher was varnishing the years that would one day end on a stainless steel stretcher.
And suddenly from Heba there was a shout against the smooth roof.
The skilled varnishers know their business well.
Too hard to become joy, too happy to become sorrow. The painters paint everything in Aniara's castle.
​
We know that we have been left out of the higher insight of the ocean of mystery and that we lack the tools to reach the depths of clarity that Mima once gave. But since Mima's death, the average of what we achieve of truth is not very high average is what is required if the choice of new paths is to be avoided.
A small number reach the values that should be the average to reach.
The others are satisfied with the flow of thought,
the rattle with which time is made to pass.
A daughter of my mother, called Tovi, was born in the night of space. Alas, dear ones, where can the crowd's demand for sensation and wonder lead us?
First came, as it should be, the blissfully sweet and indescribably pure birth, when the mimicry lay naked, uncovered and panting in the golden bed of the formula.
To her camp now came the mimicry and winged it
the naked one, as when the butterfly flies the honey chalice of its flower, in Dori's meadows. The description is not given (much to my regret) because there is always the possibility of a wave of miracles taking place in secret, to the great disappointment of many who wish to see how the mimagyne makes love, and from what angle the picture of the goddess's love life should be taken in order to really reach the audience.
Can it not be enough that Tovi gave birth to an allegorical child whom Isagel happily suckled at her breast and practiced miracles and consolation You may think so yourself, but others think otherwise.
For not even a mimagyn can defend the fruit of her womb against the human hyena who demands a clear answer on every point of what precedes it all: the prelude to sowing,
with the insides of the thighs well described in a clear image that gives the "public" a feeling that it was in the bed.
​
Yes, it has happened that I have sometimes asked myself (in private silence, of course) whether the smooth ice of superficiality does not have enough joy, and that the great swallows in these spaces are only terrible wakes which, compared to the agile princess and heartlessly threatening with superior power, will in the end become the cold room of beauty.
So small a strip bears, the other breaks, and all the incomparably large gapes with the same dark death which, unchanging with cold upon cold, only imitates itself.
To raise one's hand then with a light-year pound and demonstrate the fugue of eternity on terrible organs, while the girl in the icy distance dances, hardly greater to see than a fly flown away towards the light, it is to chill with the great weapon as when the superpower with the powers the element hides coldly makes its rows in the land of Gond against unsuspecting cities and, although itself dismissing all talk of sin punishment and trial, nevertheless treats the human with such terrible flame that this terrible torrent of loose gamma released by those who do not mean sin punishment nevertheless cruelly destroys both Yaal and Gena and melts down to ashes the wonder Heba
With the same fire they turned on Chebeba.
​
Posterity does not understand you so easily.
It judges according to the image of posterity
and counts up the time you lived in
as rows of negligence, as offenses
against the spirit of foresight, the duties of thought.
To this it adds the work of suffering
and piles up, as blind as a judge
as you were blind as a criminal, case by case.
Can those who have killed the foundations of joy and destroyed the great city of joy have the right to the joys of life?
Does Cain have the right to be happy?
Can those who strangled the joys of Xinombra and burned the valley of paradise have the right to heights of heaven other than Aniara's daily agony?
I ask but never get an answer. I have to arrange for pastimes
for the hordes of Aniara and manage its entertainment.
​
A wave of newly awakened hatred swept through the mountains where Nobia lived in deep mines and ghostly white lights illuminated every thread of life in the fabrics she wove.
She had sought and found the thread of life - a discovery of how healing rays are empowered by the inner council of things and fused with the heart of the atom.
And while hatred swelled around the mountains
and wounds screamed in the valley of time.
she wove day and night until the color of victory
and the skin of life rose in the hall of death.
Of her beauty little can be said. It was lost in a wave of radiation but the clear purity of the soul could be weighed; in healed wounds we saw her reflection.
​
Then I will throw you out of your chair. I will break your armchair view, because it is false and holds a convulsive security in a time that has slipped out of its rooms, but also the other way around: that it becomes a view without deep insight.
From this world, I shall send you happiness today to the kingdom of love, to the evil shore where the Samaritan Nobia and others spread works of love from country to country.
Figuring out the ways of evil and tracking down all the poison in the city of hate was futile, for hate stood there with heavy blocks united row by row.
Within its walls there was life and movement in the birthing centers and squares where human beings were conceived and human beings were born and human life in the human gap was destroyed. It was best to pretend that this city of self-righteous evil existed as nothing more than a devilish childhood that would mature, grow tired of itself.
We resolved to keep on sending saints there for the longest time.
from the saints' camps as long as the funds lasted
and as far as the need still aroused the heart.
This plan was tried for nine years, during which the Rind camp of saints bled to death: an act of self-sacrifice based on faith in the powers of good. But the heavy wall of hate stood just as hard, and the fatigue of leadership followed the act of hate; only too great was the throne of victory we had.
A single city consumed the power which we had thought sufficient for the transformation of the world.
​
On a rare occasion, the happiness of being free from desire also came.
Then the emptiness suddenly became populated by a kind of spiritualized mystery.
We walked the spirit's path of happiness along the beach, exchanging thoughts, making fortune cards.
It was evening and sunset in the sea.
Night fell, but the land of thought stood firm.
He woke up. She said: guess where.
I can't, he said. How did you get here? The same way you did: up the gravel path and then straight to the left among the cypresses. There was a dewy path the moonlight itself went there with light steps which I tried to imitate.
And when everything was past and the path was over
I managed to become a clear crystal and find you, my friend, on this path.
It is so transparently wonderful here.
We no longer exist. All that was is over.
Neither god nor devil here reaches us anymore and the end is the cruel parody of life.
​
Where is the plain text?
This is what I'm looking for.
The one that fits but still gives song.
After thanking God that he was a wasp and not something else, he continued between the leafy branches and stung the farmer.
Laid out by spiritual mobs, the truth becomes worse than the lie. When the mob washes the barley, it is never clean.
The rabble always wash in the dunghill from the Augean stables.
​
​
Matema's camel bells ring in the deserts of speech where the caravans of unfinished quarrels
never reach their oasis, only become more camels.
Immersed as in a dream but still awake, I found myself changed and so naked that no dream has words for what it was like when, transformed by the stone, I cut down towards the inner realms and while this was happening I became smaller, smaller and even more stripped of layers and layers of time and space as I sank further and further into the stone, deeper and deeper into things.
Who undressed me, wore me down so much that no conceivable smallness so small on this earth can be imagined unless one is long since beyond what every comprehensible thought wants to deny.
And yet I was being stripped and reduced still further in no direction.
So sunk, unceasingly sunk in
towards even more breathtaking reduction
I retained in my dream a way of seeing
and understand that I was traveling into
to the dimensions, the innermost
who with their interior work with their interior
and whose interiors compose the world.
They scare children with darkness, criminals with punishment and sinners with realms beyond death where the vengeful desire to torment has transported its arsenal of tormenting images.
But sorrow follows us every day, and joy follows us every day.
We ourselves are the sorrow, we are also the joy, everything human is rooted in humanity, and no human being can escape humanity, not her hatred and her self-degradation, nor the joy she spreads, nor the love she forms.
There is a third land that is not death and not life, but the reality that pervades all realities, and spins the very thread of the fabric from which dreams are woven. Yes, I had come to the rooms where these threads are spun. When I arrived, I stepped out and saw no longer surprised the smallest fairy, who herself was not at all surprised to welcome me to her inner land.
And although we were both unimaginably smaller than two grains of traveling dust on a suit on earth, we thought we were big here in this smallest room to which I have now come and which nevertheless encloses with its vault a separate world of realities formed.
On the contrary, I cannot describe what I saw of strange things, but that will follow when the habit of telling stories has been practiced for other habits than what life offers,
and other things than those called death.
For though beyond all I have known
this was not death
and though within all I have known
this was not life.
​
Actually, the comprehensibility was slight, as when multiples arranged in layers, and layered in the directions of space, make the fabric of the dream omnidirectional structural and become a fabric consisting of paths where the thread is only thought of as a path as a sign that here the shuttle has gone, but where is the thread? The thread is the path. I saw how the gnome was in a quandary as to which of two different possibilities to give clarity.
Then came formulas of such an elusive nature that the gnome was again gripped by the anxiety
which arises when the explanation is attempted but little response is felt by the pupil.
And with a look that shone as if with sorrow, he signaled a break in the dilemma. And with a formula more magical than comprehensible, we left the atom.
We expanded to other contexts and sat on a leaf next to a bee eagerly searching for honey in a meadow.
​
The Dance
Around the great star of the day we shall orbit the years we have been given to live, and our family for a few thousand centuries, perhaps more, perhaps less, no one knows.
But the time that we are orbiting is so small compared to that of the suns where they wander around in orbits in the galaxy our family named the Milky Way, luminous to behold.
What can our eyes see, our hearts cry out at the thought of atoms going around in the same way with waves and particles.
Some have called this the dance of the gods - it is always being danced by everything in the universe.
All indications are that among the arts of the muses
the art of dance is the first and the last,
and we are in it, dancing out
our role in the dance, it is already being danced
in other worlds separate from our time,
in other dance theaters,
yet one thing is clear
that we are dancing our turns.
Our role in it
is ours and no one else's.
Our own role in the dance art of all worlds.
​
Economic overview
Our earth wanders alive alone, around the sun our dear parent.
As far as the giant tubes reach no living neighbor to see.
Desolate and empty on the one who received the name of the god of war, burning hot and desolate on the one who received the name of the goddess of love.
Jupiter, planet of Zeus
ice-clad to two hundred times the height of the Himalayas.
The others are death's door.
Beyond that, light years to the next planetary village.
So each sun has only one living person, and that one is a leased farm, indefinitely and to an unreliable and dangerous race.
​
Here is a world of light distributed in the mystery of things.
Here is the salvaged light in the innumerable rooms of the stone.
Wands point with poles directed to their rooms inside mountains and stones, spinning mystery.
Deep in her fairy tale, she lives for the sake of the tale.
the norn who has learned to spin the yarn from the wool of the riddles.
​
The spirit of Ideema from space in endless lines gathered the seeds into the durable wood of the suns.
From far beyond time the hydrogen came in modest garb and built for its God the ingenious nests of the atoms.
Come, let us nurture the foundation of our life. The green sphere we have been given to live on in the universe's lottery system.
When the next lucky draw can get rid of the Milky Way's big tombola we do not know and can never reach.
But we do know one thing for sure: the next draw will not include us.
​
A stranger called chance shuffles the cards and deals them to the local players.
Every single poker face keeps a straight face.
There are plenty of goldfish in the tureen here.
According to the law, the silent coincidence itself is the last to raise its hand, with ice in its stomach.
Soon jaws of granite are chewing the cigar.
Where is the bundle of happiness among the starlings?
That question is answered when chance wins.
Then the shot goes off, chance's life disappears. His house of cards collapses, but soon everyone at the counter thinks it was a nice fish, that no one won, that chance herself was told by Smith and Wesson what chance was.
by Smith and Wesson what chance should do.
( translation to be continued )