#I told myself i was going to stay off of twitter so my blood pressure wouldn't keep rising from reading

[thelioncourts]

+

[sebgender]

this is a diluc and kaeya angst fic! i would like to point out that their bond is 100% familial and platonic! (i Do Not support kae!uc whatsoever)

i posted this on wattpad and ao3 (@sebgender) and if you would like, you can follow me on twitter (@sebgender) as well!

i did not have anyone read this over so i apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors. i hope you enjoy!

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gods.

kaeya has never had a strong belief in the gods. despite growing up in mondstadt, where they worshipped barbatos, he couldn't help but feel out of place. but who could he blame? born in khaenri'ah, a place without any deities who watched over the people, of course he would be skeptical of these so-called seven archons.

.................

it was the day aether and all the acquaintances he made while traveling teyvat would confront his sister and the rest of the abyss order. it had been gloomy since the morning, dark clouds looming in the sky.

aether had gone off to confront lumine personally, while the rest of them stayed back to fend off the mages and its subordinates. the knights of favonius were present as well. the acting grandmaster and captains leading groups out to fight, barbara and the other sisters on the side, healing and tending to the injured.

rain started to fall and things quickly became chaotic. the stream of enemies seemed never ending. more and more knights running out of energy and getting injured. kaeya's ears rang as he fought, becoming less and less aware of his surroundings. kneeling by one of the trees, a voice called out to him.

"big brother kaeya!! kaeyaaa!!!"

he whipped his head around to see klee sprinting towards him. even klee, the effervescent spark knight, seemed to lack her usual upbeat smile. her small legs carried her as fast as they could. his breath hitched. this was the first time he'd ever seen the girl so...shaken up? he couldn't tell if it was tears or rain that streamed down her face.

"klee? what's wrong? are you alright?"

she was crying. as she got closer, her sobs became more audible.

"we have to go!! he needs help!! he's hurt!"

she tugged at him, urging him to get up quickly. grabbing hold of his hands, she ran, pulling him back towards the direction she came from.

"klee, who's hurt? you have to tell me so i know"

she started crying harder, her grip on his hand tightening.

"aether's sister hurt him."

his eye widened before taking klee into his arms and taking off.

"klee, where is he?!"

"he's near the winery! master jean told me to go look for you."

"is jean with him?"

"master jean had to go get healed by barbara."

kaeya's patience was running thin. he was about to question her again but was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. running as fast as he could, he could make out three standing figures in front of the winery. there were knights scattered around. kaeya couldn't tell whether they were injured or dead. klee started to squirm in his arms as she tried to release herself.

klee let out a blood curdling scream and kaeya watched as the blonde figure sunk her blade straight through the shoulder of a read head.

"DON'T HURT HIM!!!!!"

klee sprinted towards them. aether limped, almost falling, and grabbed the girl and pushed her head into the crook of his neck. klee has been assigned to fend off hilichurls but now has witnessed diluc being injured. she should have never been put on the field today.

"KLEE YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN!!" aether yelled.

"THAT LADY IS HURTING HIM!! MAMA SAID I HAVE TO PROTECT THE PEOPLE I LOVE. I HAVE TO HELP LIKE MAMA SAID!!"

klee was having a full on breakdown now; she sobbed and screamed while lashing around in aether's hold trying to get him to let go. diluc didn't as much as let out a wince before trying to raise his claymore again. it seemed that diluc had gotten to aether before kaeya and klee did. lumine was quick to pull out her sword, blood splattering on the ground. kaeya was stuck in his place.

move.

move!

WHY AREN'T YOU MOVING?! HELP HIM!!

his mind cleared as he saw klee rip from aether's grasp and run towards lumine.

"KLEE NO!!! LUMINE DON'T HURT HER!!!!" screamed aether.

kaeya sprinted after her and managed to grab her before she was in range of lumine's blade.

"klee, let big brother kaeya take care of this, okay? i need you to take aether to barbara. can you do that for me?"

she sniffled before nodding and running back towards the traveler. turning back towards lumine, his face dropped, not an ounce of emotion could be seen.

"kaeya. i'm surprised that you'd go to such lengths to protect the ones against you. have you forgotten who you are?"

"i could ask you the same. who do you think you are swinging your blade at a child?!"

"i wasn't going to hurt her. i was going to use the butt of my blade to knock her out at most. i still have morals."

"it sure doesn't seem like it. i told you that i no longer associate myself with the likes of you or khaenri'ah, for a mater of fact. i grew up here and i will protect it."

"kaeya, i thought we could work this out. we could have gotten revenge together. don't you want that? or would you rather stay stuck in a place, surrounded by the people who worship the same gods who never cared about you!?"

"if they didn't care about me, they wouldn't have saved me!! this is not a matter of my faith in the gods but me wanting to protect the place and people i love!"

"fine. then i'll just end you now."

lumine charged at him, kaeya quick to dodge. the two went at it for sometime, diluc long forgotten about by lumine. the pyro wielder kneeled, holding his wound as he watched the two fight. it was obvious that both were running out of stamina. at some point, kaeya's eyepatch has fallen off as well. his eyes were unfocused as he tried to play offense, but it wasn't enough.

time had suddenly slowed as kaeya watched her blade come closer and closer towards his heart. had he been quicker on his feet, maybe he could've helped more people. but of course, it no longer mattered. he was about to die. his eyes subconsciously closed, his body inviting the blade to end him — yet it never came.

seconds passed before he opened his eyes. diluc stood in front of him and as kaeya looked down, he saw the sword come out the other end.

"di...luc?"

as if on que, the man fell to his knees. his hands still firmly held the blade where he grabbed as lumine changed directions and stabbed him through his abdomen. the rain poured harder and lumine started making her retreat.

it was all making sense as he gripped his sword and started to charge towards the girl but a hand wrapped around his ankle, preventing him from going further.

"...it's not worth it. you'll get hurt."

"diluc, lay down, quick. we have to stop the bleeding. you'll be fine."

kaeya stumbled over his words as he layed diluc down on the wet grass. he took off his cape and pressed it against his wound.

"i'm sorry."

kaeya eyes snapped up to diluc's face.

"what are you apologizing for, you idiot...?just....shut up and save your breath. i don't know what nonsense you're spewing but now is not the time."

"there's no need for all the effort. i won't make it."

kaeya ignored the redhead and continued applying pressure to the wound while looking around for anyone who could possibly heal diluc. both his shoulder and abdomen were causing him to loose blood at a rapid pace. the grass he laid on was dyed a dark crimson.

diluc shook his head. it was futile, his efforts would be in vain. in around 5 to 10 minutes, he would die from blood loss. no words were exchanged, both men too scared to break the seemingly fragile silence.

"......why would you do that?"

diluc grunted in response rather than replying with words. kaeya gripped the fabric he held to diluc's abdomen even harder.

"...you fucking saved me. why?"

"because."

"because what?! what are doing protecting the same person who betrayed you, diluc?!"

"kaeya, i don't care about that anymore!! i haven't cared for years. i saved you because you are worthy of being saved!!"

silence again. it was deafening.

"you can't."

"huh?"

"you're not allowed to leave again. he said you have to stay with me, no matter what.."

at that moment, the red head laughed a genuine laugh. kaeya looked at him like he was crazy.

"you know, i never left in the first place. i've always been here. whether you wanted to take advantage of that, was up to you."

"don't give me that bullshit!! you left mondstadt for 3 years without your goddamned vision and we had no contact! i had no idea if you would even come back."

"but i did, didn't i?"

"it doesn't matter! you were surviving off the same delusion that killed your father! you could've been next!"

"our."

kaeya was dumbfounded. was diluc listening to a word he said? his answers were short, not making any sort of sense to blue haired man.

"he was our father, not just mine."

"is this really our biggest problem at hand?!"

"yes. you know how much he loved you. he cared for you as much as he cared for me. he is our father, it doesn't matter if you acknowledge it or not."

before kaeya could retort, diluc spoke again.

"he loved when you referred to him as your father. i remember the first day you showed up at the winery, looking confused as ever. he crouched down in front of me and asked me if i wanted a brother. he was willing to take you in from the very start."

kaeya had nothing to say as diluc's breathing became increasingly labored. yet, instead of taking it easy, he insisted on continuing his story.

"even when he saw you standing there, watching as he took his last breath, he didn't hate you. he never could. he told me to stay with you. selfishly, i left for three years but i came back....because i knew that's what he would have wanted."

"....why are you telling me this now?"

diluc's face had gone even more pale, sweat dripping down his face despite the cold rain. he wheezed and coughed as he spoke.

"to remind you that even though you're witnessing this exact scene again, you are not to blame. dad doesn't blame you, and neither do i."

"blame me for what? what scene? diluc, you're gonna make it. you aren't gonna die in the same place as crepus." kaeya laughed nervously.

surely it wasn't happening right? surely barbara would come running down here any second and heal diluc and they would go back to their daily bantering at the tavern. everything would go back to normal!

"no matter what you decide to do, please don't sell the winery."

"stop...stop! what are you saying right now?!"

kaeya became frantic once again, shouting out for help, only halting as he felt a hand fall on top of his own. kaeya's body temperature is always lower than others due to his cryo vision, but even with his pyro vision, diluc's hand felt colder than kaeya's.

"you have to keep going, alright?"

kaeya looked down at diluc, eyes filling with tears that he has not shed in quite a few years.

"kae......"

diluc's eyes conveyed everything single thing he could've possibly wanted to say in his last moments. so even with his limited words, he wanted to at least say something. so, with a smile and his last breath, he repeated the same words he told kaeya all those years ago.

"even if you don't think so, you were — and always will be — the best older brother i could have ever wished for."

as diluc's eyes closed, kaeya could hear the footsteps of knights behind him and his name being called out.

kaeya!

kaeya!

"KAEYA!!"

kaeya shook his head and rapidly blinked as he finally came back to reality.

"you were spacing out again and i still have some paperwork to do. i'm not trying to rush you but...."

"ah, so sorry jean. i...uh. i came to ask if i could change some of my info that is currently in the files?"

"oh? what would you like changed?"

kaeya's eyes dropped down to the now unlit pyro vision hanging next to his own.

"i think i want to change my last name... back to ragnvindr."

.................

but even with his little belief in the gods, kaeya found himself praying to them everyday — begging them to give him his little brother back. whispering apologies to the wind that he hoped barbatos would carry to diluc.

[dreamylyfe-x]

our story was epic

Up until a few days ago, I was unable to really absorb that they are about to start airing season 11. Like... they are still SHOOTING season 11. And it feels like I JUST got into this thing, so... despite being on Tumblr way too much, I still couldn’t fully wrap my head around it. 

But then I bought myself an advent calendar and it started to be me daily going “Oh my God. It’s December 4th. That’s TWO DAYS. And I’m just realizing that it’s exactly a year since I became obsessed with this show. 

I started to binge right at the start of December, initially watching YouTube clips and then just surrendering to the whole show. And I was IN a fandom that I was enjoying very much, but the magnetism that is Gallavich could not be denied. I’ve been a sucker for a good love story my whole life. I used to sneak watching soaps (severely not allowed in my house) as a kid by *taping them off the audio feed on my radio*. So I like epic. I like over the top and dramatic desperate love stories a whole lot. 

But I don’t think I’ve ever loved a love story like I love Ian and Mickey. 

When I was first falling in love with this story I kept thinking of an exchange from Veronica Mars: 

"I thought our story was epic, you know. You and me.”

"Epic how?”

"Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined and bloodshed. Epic.” 

Epic is a high bar. Epic is Shakespearean. Epic often ends in tears. 

But I think Gallavich is epic. 

Spanning years we got. These are not people who span continents. Bloodshed, certainly. Lives ruined?  Well. It sometimes looked pretty bleak. But I think they did ok. 

The thing about an epic love story is that a lot of them do end badly. They’re also almost always about rich people. But there’s nothing all that inspiring about a great love that lasts a few weeks before you both end up dead in a tomb because of a wacky misunderstanding and a slow mule. 

I’ve always thought the point of a great love story is not to rush headlong into death, but to have something that’s worth fighting for, because it enriches your life. For me, an epic love is one that withstands pressures the conflicts. It’s rooted in understanding. It’s about two people who really know each other and lift each other up. There is something to be said for the epic love story that ends with people splitting a beer on the porch after a particularly gruelling day. That’s the stuff I actually find relatable and uplifting. 

So. On the eve of the last season, here’s my list of what has made them epic, up to this point. 

1. They are in for each other just as they are. From day one -- if we count day one as being the day Ian Gallagher discovered Mickey Milkovich was an option for him -- they have been charmed and twitter-pated over exactly the guy they see in front of them. We’ve seen Ian unable to suppress a smile while Mickey beats some poor kid up, and grin like an idiot while Mickey shrugs off their hookup. And we know from Ian’s other relationships that Mickey is the only guy who he is ever just himself with. Mickey never gives Ian a reason to think he has to be something else because Mickey isn’t critical of Ian as a human. 

2. The Magnet Factor. This is essential if you’re going to to call yourself epic. Two people who can’t stay away from each other. Who will come back to each other again and again, no matter what is going on. The best they do at staying apart is season three, when they have both been attacked and traumatized, and even then it’s the person who has to live with his assaulter who is taking that position. It still doesn’t last. It’s life and death and Mickey still does stuff like hook up with Ian while his entire family is upstairs waiting for his wedding to start. Authorities have to intervene. Nothing else can mount a convincing counterattack. Not even a Mexican cartel. 

3. Compatibility. If you have a couple who are willing to draw blood for each other there’s got to be a reason. Ian and Mickey have that deep compatibility that I find so convincing. Settling in to watch action movies, or spooning in bed, or having beers in the kitchen. Stumbling down the street, singing Love is a Battlefield. They have the best time with each other and it’s the absolute greatest thing about them. 

4. They really and truly do love each other. Not just in those moments when they’re smiling at each other like they’ve never seen anything more amazing in their entire lives -- but in the moments when Ian is spending all this time fretting about how Mickey is while Mickey won’t talk to him, or is limping around Chicago trying to figure out how to get Mickey to come home to him. Or when he’s giving Mickey all his money at the border because he can’t reasonably go with him and stay healthy, but will still do everything he can to make this work out for him. Mickey being absolutely terrified for Ian when it becomes obvious that he’s sick, but never, ever entertaining the idea that it’s within his control. Just holds him, deals with his own stuff, argues with uninterested nurses at the clinic, gets all the fuckin’ Bs, when when Ian lets him know he needs something else, pivots. Instantly. Because Mickey isn’t interested in fitting Ian into some box. He’s just there to support Ian in getting better. They really do look to do what’s best for each other, to the best of their abilities, and that hasn’t changed. 

5. Constancy. They started this when they were teenagers. They never really gave up on each other. They have met other people, done other things, and spent time away from each other. They know what else is out there. They still want what they wanted as kids: each other. 

I generally go into things with as low expectations as I can manage. I’m going into season 11 expecting Ian and Mickey to fundamentally stay Ian and Mickey. And that will be more than enough for me. Because as long as it stays a story about two people who like each other, want to be together and stay together, I’m going to be happy. Most of the story has already been told. And I think it’s the greatest. 

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of March. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Please, Harry | Explicit | 1330 words

“Harry, leave the fucking house you idiot! You have to leave for your date, and I need to jerk off alone.”

2) Precioso | Explicit | 1365 words

Louis, a curious young boy that spends most of his time with nature, falls for his next door neighbor Harry. A gorgeous man that sells marmalade jars to the local markets.

3) Higher Than The Empire State | Teen & Up | 2015 words

Harry and Louis get high together.

4) Saturday Mornings | Explicit | 2284 words

Saturday mornings were the best, Louis thought to himself as he cuddled up against Harry’s chest. Harry hummed in content as he squeezed Louis’ body a little tighter, making it known that he, as well, was awake. Louis couldn’t help but smile as he left a little kiss on Harry’s torso.

5) Bathroom Stall | Explicit | 2531 words

Louis thought that a year would be more than enough for him to get over a small relationship. So what if it was something that lasted for three years? But that’s the thing, the relationship was anything but small and Louis was anything but over Harry.

6) Hold the Night for Ransom | Mature | 4754 words

In which Louis tries to prove he doesn't need his alpha and Harry knows it's a losing battle before it begins.

7) Better Than I'll Admit | Mature | 5607 words

Harry and Louis don't get along at all, but Louis can't get over how good he smells.

8) Through The Storm | Mature | 6497 words

Harry and Louis' marriage has hit a rough patch. A much needed week vacation in Jamaica just may be the second chance their relationship needs. What could possibly go wrong?

The answer?

Everything.

9) Beverly Hills, Baby Honey | Mature | 7161 words

Louis strongly believes that Harry Styles is a bottom, a submissive, simply because he is one— he also fights people on Twitter about it. Until he meets the very man himself, and proves him how he couldn't be anymore mistaken as the man turns him putty in his arms, strong arms- pliant and docile.

10) To The Beat Of My Own Drum | Explicit | 8442 words

A collection of drabbles.

11) You're The Only One Who's Making Me Come, To My Sinful Senses | Mature | 9328 words

Louis the dance major and Harry the business major meet on Tinder. They hook up regularly and come to find out they like each other more then they let on.

12) Place Your Head On My Beating Heart | Explicit | 10860 words

Or the AU where porn sensation Harry Styles takes his newbie to his place and gets him to come untouched twice before even fingering him and they may or may not fall in love at some point between second and third orgasms.

13) Told You So | Explicit | 12603 words

Louis’ heat comes earlier than he was expecting and Harry has a hard time refraining from saying “I told you so.”

14) Float Down Like Autumn Leaves (Stay Now) | Mature | 16834 words

The AU in which Louis has a 6 year old daughter with a costume emergency that puts her school's annual Halloween party at risk, Halloween decorated cupcakes are hard to find and tall men look absolutely ridiculously cute in giant vegetables costumes. Co-starring Harry, who makes really good food for the kids. Featuring Niall, who works in a bakery but has a part time job as a babysitter. And as much as he doesn't believe in love at first (or second) sight, Louis is really infatuated and really wouldn't mind seeing Harry again.

15) Lean On My Shoulder (I See Myself With You) | Explicit | 19540 words

Speaking of the views, there was someone on his balcony. The sun was still setting, making this person look even more ethereal. They seemed to be at content at being alone. Harry watched as they watered the plants, they certainly didn't look like they were amongst the help.

Curiosity got the best of him and he decided to invade this stranger's quiet time; the Prince could be selfish sometimes.

-

"When you love something, you help them grow."

16) The Blood Is Rare And Sweet As Cherry Wine | Explicit | 33659 words

Note: Please take note that this fic also has Louis/Henry Cavill.

“Sex therapy?” Louis asks, cocking an eyebrow.

To his credit, the doctor doesn’t blush, “An extremely personal and efficient form of therapy, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Oh?”

“Should you and your husband wish to, I would be eager to help you in any way I can offer.”

17) Sometimes You Just Know | Mature | 33813 words

The one where Harry and Louis don’t believe in soulmates… until they do.

18) I Wish, I Found Love | Explicit | 37105 words

Harry and Louis grew up together, two pariahs among their peers. Will their love be able to overcome distance, prophecies, and the trials of finding out who you truly become under pressure?

19) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

20) Make This Feel Like Home | Explicit | 43052 words

The house on West 28th Street in London is twice the size of Louis', more expensive than the price of all of his house and car payments combined, and is falling apart at the seams.

21) Don't Let It (Me) Break | Explicit | 168297 words

Note: Warning for major character death but it’s not Harry or Louis.

Or the one where Harry is oblivious, Louis is broken, Zayn and Liam are in love, Gemma and Lottie are lovely, and Niall is just waiting for everyone to get their shit together.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[danbensen]

…or how tracking my life told me I was abusing coffee and social media

So there I was, my nails digging into my palms, my right molars pressed into each other. The air hissed in through my nose as my vision narrowed to a point. It was like hurtling down a roller-coaster. It was was terrifying, and I had no idea why it was happening.

I’d be doing nothing especially ominous – sitting down on the couch, carrying my younger daughter, thinking about bread – and suddenly I’d be gripped by this intense sensation of danger. BREAD! The image of a whole-grain loaf gained the mass of a church bell. DOOM! It rang. Toll the yeasty knell, oh brazen fate, for all men shall one day die. Die, oh, mortal flesh. Die and meet thy baker. (whoo! I am so sorry about that pun. Deep breaths now…)

Tiny drops of steam Ebb and flow before the light With each of my breaths.

It was ridiculous, but of course knowing that it was ridiculous didn’t help. I was like a cat, freaking out for no reason. Or was there no reason? Aren’t I supposed to listen to my body, now that I’m meditating and whatnot? But what exactly was my body supposed to be telling me? Avoid carbs? Run from the couch? Something about my daughter…? Yeah, If I searched hard enough for a reason to be terrified, I’d surely find one. Now there’s a reason for fear.

So I meditated more. I stopped using social media. I took my daughters to the park and watched the sky as it changed from brass to rose and the street lights blinked on. I talked to Pavlina. And I realized that over the course of the past month, I’d gone from drinking two cups of coffee a day to four.

The trees turn black and The sky, indescribable. Look up and it’s changed.

Scheduling is hard. My older daughter’s in first grade now, and school starts at 8:10 in the Center. The younger one’s in kindergarten, which starts at 8:30 in Levski G. At some point, it would be nice if Pavlina and I could go to work, which is back in the Center. If we want to have breakfast and drink our coffee in peace, we need to wake up at 6:15. Three hours later, I’m finally in the office and I’m tired. That scares me because I associate being tired with being sick. Fatigue=death.

I’m supposed to listen to my body, but my body is a stupid animal. It’s not going to say, “you’re drinking too much coffee.” It says “coffee reminds me of being happy!” and “not being productive scares me!” It says “I’m tired! I must have cancer again!” It’s up to me to keep track of what I’m doing, cut out the distractions, and give myself enough mental room to notice the patterns.

Right. So that’s why I’m not doing social media any more. Because part of the reason I was too distracted to notice I was drinking too much coffee was the last newsletter I wrote. I posted it on facebook, which made me want to check facebook for likes and comments. And once I was on facebook, why not see what other people are posting? Oh. Oh. That’s what they’re posting. Oh no.

I debated writing this explanation. Why not just stop using social media? Why talk about it on social media? But my litmus test for whether I should write something is “will this help people?” Maybe this is helpful: social media is distracting and depressing. It fills my head with noise. Maybe you have the same problem and this is the solution.

The sky at seven The color of hope that hurts And the crying swifts

I’ll continue to post my work on my website (including these newsletters) and mirror or link to those posts on Tumblr, Twitter, and Facebook. Readers are welcome to like and comment, but I’ll only read those comments once a week (Friday seems like a good day). Comments on my website, PMs, and emails to me will get my attention earlier. I won’t read any content that isn’t sent personally to me or that I didn’t sign up for. Hopefully that means I’ll still get news from people I care about, but not about tragedies that I have no power to solve. That way, I can continue to function from hour to hour.

What do you think? Is this going to work? Can I stay connected without sacrificing my mental health? Let me know in the comments. Or even better, email me.

In other news, I had some good writing stuff happen this month. Interchange has hit its 2/3 mark and, more importantly, its rhythm. I’ve managed to block off a fairly reliable 90-minute chunk of time in the mornings, which I use to meditate and then “speedwrite,” which means writing without thinking about what I’m doing. I generally end up with a single element of a scene, such as the conversation the characters are having, how they feel, what’s going on in the environment, or what actions the characters are taking.

Then I usually have some time after lunch (and my second and final coffee), and I can layer those scene-pieces onto each other and smooth the edges. If I have more time, I do research, which usually involves shooting messages to generous experts. In this way, the inestimable and inspiring Thomas Duffy helped me tie a ribbon around the center of my book, in which a biologist’s subconscious belief that she owns the environment she’s studying leads her to destroy it. As the forest crumbles around her, she blames herself…then makes exactly the wrong decision about what to do next. Yeah! Fiction! Thomas, I’m going to send you roses or cacti or something.

Another new tradition I’ve instituted is spending my Friday mornings not working on Interchange. It’s a little release of pressure, a chance to play and remind myself that writing isn’t just another chore I have to do. The first week, it was a short story. That one turned out so well, I’m going to try to publish it. It’s called “The Sales Event” and it’s about smart phones and general relativity. Do you want to beta-reader it?

I got another couple of “no”s from publishers about The Sultan’s Enchanter, but one of them was that very gratifying “no” that comes at the head of a long list of things I could do to fix the story. Making those fixes will be educational, even if that particular publisher still passes. Wealthgiver is rather like The Sultan’s Enchanter, after all, and the lessons I learn from one will be important for the other. The world needs more books about amoral Balkan people!

Yeah, I’m still working on Wealthgiver’s neo-Thracian language. I even posted a little of it on Tumblr. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten my little goats!

Kapt kapēnon ainē kesa / byźai darsai ypo dēsâ. Ēbron, aiźi, byźâs kâ / skalmon, bleptē, bystâs kâ, As tae yper iatśikan / kapâ pe ta ve abbrinkan.

There were at one time / brave goats under heaven. A kid, a nanny, and a billy goat / clever, loyal, and tough, Who would dance up / a hill for to make themselves fat.

Dâ ispilsen opē rinkon strymē / parân ân, śân târâ dymâ. Iśē iserpa źēryntē / źymlē mērē urdēnē. Byźulâs ada pyrân źilmân / dâ bolvarâs pia rhobton saimân.

But a quick-flowing river blocked / the path with an evil guard. There coiled a beast / a great water-dragon. A goat will eat green grains / but a serpent will slurp blood

Peskēnon ērga ēbron do. / Pliskon ērga śân negō. Źymlē zē semân iglytsa. / “Kis ēs tu?” Neston iglâtsa. “Semâs manon ēm ēźo.” / “San ar ēsti? Abadam so!”

First comes the kid. / It splashes with its hooves. The dragon heard this. / “Who are you?” she roared. “This only am I.” / “Is it so? I will eat you up!”

Things are heating up! I’m still not entirely comfortable with the articles and deitics, but I do like that last line. And the orthography is shaping up nicely. I love googly things over letters.

Another potential conlanging project for that other hundred years I plan to live: Western Hellenism. What if the Greeks had conquered Iberia?

And finally, PROTECTOR! This is the comic project I’ve been working on for literally six years. Words by me and Simon Roy, inks by Atryom Trakhanov, colors by Jason Wordie, and lettering by Hassan Otsmane-Elhadu. What a crazy, fun, glorious process this collaboration was!

Protector is a post-apocalyptic scifi story about a slave who stumbles across “a demon of the Profligate Age,” a military cyborg who’s been in hibernation for the past thousand years. The post-human robots who are terraforming the Earth are not amused, and send in some sweaty future-vikings to put a stop to these shenanigans.

There will be five issues, and issue one comes out in January. If you’re interested, please order a copy, or better yet, tell your local comic or book store to order lots of copies! Give us some numbers that will convince Image to ask for a sequel

And finally, some books and stuff

Daring Greatly by Brené Brown – this book wasn’t as transformative for me as it could have been because I’ve read Brown before and I already agree with her. Shame is bad. Vulnerability is the cure. Bam. What I like about Brown is that she collects good data, lets it prove her wrong, and suggests how the lessons from the data can be usefully applied. It’s not just science, it’s engineering.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold – I think this was the third read. What happens when GM humans become obsolete? What happens when an engineer has a spiritual epiphany? It wasn’t quite as much fun as some of Bujold’s other science fiction, but it has a lot of heart.

Spooky Action at a Distance by George Musser – an excellent physics book, examining the concept of space, which lies at the center of the contradictions of relativity and quantum physics. If space didn’t exist, the universe would be chaos, but a lot of experiments only make sense if space _doesn’t_ exist. Great stuff, and it inspired that short story I’m so proud of.

Death by Water by Kerry Greenwood – a refreshing splash of chilly New Zealand sea spray. Phryne pursues a jewel thief and has a little bit of sex, but a lot of good food, drink, and dancing. There’s also a hakka.

Wicked Prey by John Sandford – it was actually a little boring. The police’s side of the story didn’t hold up as well as the criminals’. But this is a relatively early book in the series, which means Sandford is improving.

The Upright Go Pro – it’s a little device that you glue to your upper back so it will buzz at you when you slouch. Immediately after I put it on, I realized I have little tiny tyrannosaurus arms that don’t reach any table or counter-top. It ran out of batteries one day and man did my back hurt that night. So I guess it’s working.

Gravity by Against the Current and Brighter by Patent Pending – Good Interchange music.

Be Kind to Yourself by Andrew Peterson – It makes me feel better.

Song of Durin by Clamavi De Profundis – I haven’t gotten goosebumps from a song in a long time. It’s about dwarves.

The Twits by Roald Dahl – I read it to my older daughter and boy howdy did Roald Dahl know how to write for children. Everything seems utterly ridiculous but it all somehow satisfies. Like eating dirt cake.

Steven Universe – My younger daughter found me rewatching it on my phone and made me cast it on the big TV. Now it’s all “I wanna watch Steeben dabout a Giant Woman. I’m Pearl.” No, younger daughter, you are not Pearl. Pearl is my older daughter. My younger daughter is Amethyst. Nobody is more Amethyst than my younger daughter. (I’m Peridot)

[lhs3020b]

You may have noticed a lack of blogging on the subject of the case that’s in front of the (UK) Supreme Court right now.

Yeah. I’ve been quiet for reasons.

The short answer is that over the weekend, I was talking with an overseas friend and BoJo, Brexit and the Yellowhammer releases came up. And, uh, unfortunately I ended up having the mother of all panic attacks. It wasn’t quite “lie on the floor screaming”, but it was closer to that then I enjoy admitting.

They’re officially admitting that there “might” be food shortages. Food shortages. That there “might” be. Might. Be. Food shortages. In 2019. in, like, just over a month’s time. Food, shortages. Because of deliberate government policy, that they’ve voluntarily chosen to do, of their own free will. And they can’t claim ignorance. their own advisors have told them this “might” happen. They’re either not listening, or they don’t care. Or both things together. I’m not sure which is worse.

Food shortages. Two short, simple, scary words.

Panic ... unfortunately, panic is probably a reasonable reaction at this point.

(I’m having that thing where your head is both too wrapped around a certain thing, and also not wrapped around it enough. Intellectually I know this is a thing and it does fit with past behaviour, like the utter callousness around austerity, or the Windrush scandal, or the naked contempt shown after Grenfell Tower ... but there’s also part of me that just doesn’t want to believe that anyone could be this evil. Even though they demonstrably are evil.)

Those of us who closely-follow Brexit stuff had suspected that something like this was possible, and had been worrying about it at least as early as last year. However, there’d also been the hope - or, perhaps, the assumption - that we were worried about nothing, and that this was an absolute worst-case scenario, that actually we were being a bit silly. “Yes Brexit is bad but is it really this bad?” etc. etc.

Except, uh, it turns out that one of the Civil Service’s central assumptions is that the country could run out of food come November.

(Then there’s the medicines issue. The shortage list leaked on Twitter last week - I’m not going to link to it as I can’t absolutely-confirm that it was accurate but it made for “interesting” reading. Luckily nothing I personally take regularly was on there - but I did note the presence of a lot of statins. And, uh, the pensioners are noted for having blood pressure issues. There would be a certain dark irony if the Tory Party’s policies directly put a couple of million of their voters into the ground - but the thing is, I am absolutely not a fan of pyramids of skulls either. And yes, that extends to people - such as ardent Brexiters - whom I’m generally not keen on, as well. I just wish they could “see” the situation in the same light.)

In the meantime I’ve been trying to distract myself - I’ve gone back to Fallout 4 and have been doing various construction projects. Because unlike our politics, at least it’s possible to make the Wasteland a somewhat-better place, I guess. And while I’m building a weird house or a new PA gallery or whatever, I’m not thinking about this stuff, you know?

But I’m also going to be completely honest: other than the above, I don’t know what to do. (For what it’s worth, yes I’m stockpiling, though my flat doesn’t have a freezer, there’s fuck-all storage space and I’m a mass of food intolerances these days, so there’s a ton of easy-to-preserve stuff that’s useless to me. So I’m not even sure how much good it will do. But I’m piling up the tinned beans and bags of rice, and hoping that somehow it might last long enough to get us past the immediate crisis - assuming it ever gets solved, which who knows? The Tory Party has stayed mad and irrational for longer than I ever imagined it would, so who knows?)

For people who are socially-concerned, 2019 is a living hell sometimes.

EDIT: just to finish off, a couple of words re: the Supreme Court case - don’t expect any surprises. On the one hand, the fact that it’s happening at all is a major embarrassment for the Gov’t, and that’s good. They deserve to be embarrassed. On the other hand, I will admit that I would be rather surprised if the Court ruled that the prorogation was illegal - and also, it’s not clear to me how it could be enforced over the whims of the current ministry, even if it was. That said, at least the fact that the case is happening at all has made life more difficult for BoJo and his Tory fellow travelers, so there is that, at least.

[yoongislight]

BTS reacting to their s/o watching them perform.

Requested by @imaginescorner, hope you like it!💓

Seokjin

I ain't too sure about myself before stepping on the stage. The choreography for Blood, Sweat & Tears has always been a challenge for me and performing it live always manages to get on my nerves. I have been practicing over and over again until I got it perfect but seeing Hoseok or Jungkook performing their parts somehow gets to me. I feel the need to improve because in my eyes I don't even do it good, I feel like I'm a terrible dancer.

That's why, when we all get on the stage and Jimin starts singing, nervousness gets the best of me. I try my best, doing everything like I practiced back at the studio but still feeling discouraged and disappointed with myself.

That is, until I see her on the crowd. Her expression is bright as a star, not taking her eyes off me while I move around the stage. Her orbs are filled with love and admiration, as if I was some kind of angel fallen right from heaven, as if she is watching the most beautiful thing ever. She is absolutely mesmerized and that's all the strength and assurance I need. I smile lovingly at her, trying to put all of my feelings in that simple gesture. She seems to get it because she smiles back and winks at me, pointing her thumbs up.

From that day on, I have never been nervous about performing BS&T again. I will never forget how she looked in the crowd, bright as an angel. My angel.

Yoongi

The song is a surprise. I have been working on it for weeks, months even until it was completely perfect. I came out with every single lyric and every single beat, all by myself, because I didn't want to share it with anyone. This is my gift for her and I want it to be all mine, like she already is.

The boys knew something was up but didn't ask me about it. I showed the finished song to Namjoon and he approved it, saying she would love it. He is the only one that has listened to it besides me and tonight, fifty thousand people would do it too, at last.

I knew she would be in the crowd, first line right below the stage. That's why, when I come out and see her bright smile, her mouth open as she screams, I can't help but smile too. The concert passes by like a blur due to the nervousness I'm feeling. She has had the time of her life, I can tell by the redness on her cheeks and how wide her smile is now. The boys turn around and start leaving the stage, the crowd thinks we are over but I'm definitely not done yet. I'm left alone on the stage and the crowd screams when the first notes start to play. I begin rapping, not taking my eyes off her while I try to express my feelings through the lyrics I spent so much time writing. I rap about our relationship, about how she helped me get over my hard times, about how we both shared my good times. I rap about how much I love her, despite I don't show her as much as I should. I rap, letting it all out until the song comes to it's end and I stand there breathing heavily.

Tears start streaming down her face and she cries, a smile on her face and love on her eyes as she looks at me deeply. I can't help but do the same and walk to her so I can hold her hand and kiss it, wishing it was just us two in the arena, wishing this moment lasted forever.

Hoseok

Today is our last concert of the tour and despite being tired, I'm also very excited about it. We have prepared a new performance as a gift for the ARMY and I am sure they will love it, the love they gave the little snippets on Twitter shows it.

As happy and excited I am now, I can't help but wish she was here. I know Y/N would have love the new choreography, she has confirmed it whenever I have sent her the practice videos, but I would have wanted her to see it live. Unfortunately, she has too much work to do and isn't able to make it. We have been dating for a few months and she still hasn't seen me perform on concert, just whenever we practiced on the studio. This would have been such a good oportunity.

Our new song is the first one to perform, so when we come out on stage and the beat starts to play, a grin appears on my face. The song is called Rainism and the dance is dark yet very sexy, exactly how fans like it. I start to rock my hips to the rhythm of the music, a mischievous grin plastered on my face. Jimin and Jungkook are on my sides and as we move together, the crowd shouts like crazy. I scan the first row of faces and suddenly see her and my heart skips a beat. I'm about to miss the next step but quickly make it up as happiness overcomes me.

Her eyes are wide open and her lips are parted, her stare never leaving my body. She is absolutely flustered and I can tell it is because of the slow moves of my body. I rock my hips forward particularly hard, looking at her and sticking my tongue out. She jumps slightly and bites her bottom lip, redness covering her cheeks. She is turned on and I know it.

When I get off the stage, she is waiting for me backstage and drags me to the closest room, begging for my body. Needless to say, from now on she comes to every concert.

Namjoon

Ddaeng had such a good impact that we decided to perform it live on 2018 FESTA. It is a surprise, nobody knows it but I know the fans will go crazy when they see it. Yoongi, Hoseok and I worked so hard on the track, staying up late nights after nights until we thought it was perfect, and apparently the fans thought so too.

When we step out on the stage, the first thing my eyes drift to is her face, I would recognize it anywhere. She is looking at me with a bright smile as she screams like all the girls around her. I find that image mesmerazing and I can't take my eyes off her during the first minutes. Soon comes the time to perform Ddaeng and I breath in, getting ready to do my best and see the reaction on her face.

When the first notes come out of the speakers and the fans see us all dressed up they scream like crazy. I can see Y/N is impressed too, because she opens her mouth and her smile widens. She watches Hoseok rap, screaming and cheering. He winks at her before Yoongi starts and he comes closer and high fives her. When my turn comes, I start spiting out the rhymes fluidly and she watches me bewitched, eyes wide and mouth forming a big O. Y/N is impresed and I can tell she is enjoying the performance. I smile and come closer to her until I'm rapping a few centimeters away from her face. Loads of hands try to reach me but only hers manages to do it and she caresses my cheek slightly.

She is the only fuel I need to ace the song and end up in front of a standing ovation.

Jimin

Ever since I was a kid, I have always been a perfeccionist. Everything I do must be perfect, that's why I work hard until I get stuff done exactly how I like it.

When I entered the music industry, that was both a curse and a blessing. I often press myself too much, ending exhausted and stressed because things don't go exactly as I please. Others, I end up achieving what I want and the feeling of success is worth all the effort.

At the concert today, I will be performing MAMA, but with a slight change: I will be bare chested half of the performance. It's the first time I have done something like this, and I'm excited but also extremely worried. I don't want fans to think my body isn't enough, that I'm too skinny or haven't excercised enough. I don't want them to be unhappy or disappointed with me or my body. I'm aware of how much they imagine how our bodies look below the clothes and I don't want to fail their expectations. All these thoughts fly around my head, but at least I have Y/N to keep me in line.

She worships me every time she gets the chance and helps my self esteem go up whenever it's particularly down. She is the reason I'm doing this tonight and I'm glad she will be here to see it.

When the song starts, I'm all covered. Fans cheer and scream as usual and I look for her face in the crowd until I see her near me. She smiles assuringly and holds her thumbs up, encouraging me and making me smile. Soon, the time comes, and I rip off my shirt, leaving just a huge white coat.

Fans go absolutely crazy, the scream that fills the huge stadium almost ending up with me, but all I can see is Y/N. She is staring at me with half love, half lust in her eyes, watching every single inch of my body hungrily. It's probably the tattoos, she didn't know I would wear them tonight. Her expression is all I need to dance even better, rocking my hips sexily and I swear I can see saliva running down her chin as she bites her lip strongly. I know she loves it and that's all the assurance I need.

From then on, every time I feel insecure about my body, I think of her expression and all doubt disappears.

Taehyung

Stigma is a difficult song, a challenge I don't know if I'm ready to overcome. Those high notes are very hard to reach, even more with my low voice. Despite that, I have decided it's time to perform it live and let fans see it. I have been rehearsing for weeks and I'm finally happy with the result. Let's see if I can do this good with the pressure of a full arena right surrounding me.

I step on stage completely alone, welcomed by cheering and shouting. I take my time to look around, scanning every single face like I have always loved to do. These are my fans, my girls and I owe them everything I have. I feel the need to acknowledge every single one of them and let them see I'm paying attention.

Suddenly, one face catches my eye and my heart skips a beat. There she is, looking at me with her brightest smile, looking like the cutest kitten you could imagine. She told me she wouldn't be able to make it, probably to surprise me, and she did.

Y/N, my girlfriend, my other half.

Stigma starts playing and the excited screams sound far away to me as I can't stop looking at her. She cheers too, making me smile and relax. I start singing, my low voice filling the arena while fans move from one side to another, holding their ARMY bombs up. Y/N has one too and she closes her eyes, moving slowly to the rhythm of the music.

I want to do this good, I want to ace this for her. When the high notes come, I sing them myself, not needing to do playback as I have thought in case I couldn't make it. I reach the high pitch and fans start going crazy, but all I can see is her. She looks at me mesmerized, bewitched by my voice. I can tell she is proud and that makes me the happiest man alive.

When the song finishes, I look at her smiling, a single tear rolling down my cheek, happiness filling my body.

Jungkook

I can't believe we have made it to the BBMAs! Not only we are nominated, but we will also be performing live!

Fake Love is the main single in our album and it's debut will be on the BBMAs stage. It's the first time we will perform it and I don't want to disappoint the fans. They look up to it and I hope it fulfills all of their expectations. Besides, we have a little surprise planned and I'm sure they will like it.

My girlfriend, Y/N, will be coming to Los Angeles with us and will also watch us perform. Not even she knows about the surprise and I can't wait to see her face when she sees it. I'm sure she will love it as much as fans, if not more.

The day comes and the BBMAs start. All eyes are on us, paps ask us about our relationship but we don't spill a word, as always. She likes to keep our privacy and I can't help but want the same. The shows passes by like a blurr as I'm beyond excited to perform. We win Top Social Artist, and that only makes my excitement and eagerness grow. Finally, the time to go on stage comes and we come out welcomed by the loudest scream ever.

I spot her and she waves at me, smiling wider than ever as she talks with someone by her side, probably Ciara as they got on well during the show. The song starts playing and the cheering intensifies. I sing without keeping my eyes off her and she winks at me, trying to sing along the lyrics herself.

The time comes, and the chorus starts. Taehyung finishes his 'love you so bad' part and it's my turn in the middle. I start singing and, suddenly, I lift up my shirt, exposing my abs for a few seconds.

The crowd goes crazy and Y/N looks at me absolutely astonished. I'm too far away but I can tell she is looking at me with hunger and somehow possesiveness, as if she doesn't want anyone to see me like this. Her mouth is wide open, like her eyes, and Ciara screams to the top of her lungs. Maybe it is because of the lights, but Y/N's cheeks seem red and I can't help but laugh internally.

I have never been this pleased by her reaction of me exposing my abs.

[god-damn-demetria]

Demi Lovato’s Overdose

Okay, first of all I wanna say that I don’t know what happened last Tuesday. We all don’t know what happened exactly, and all I’m going to say in this post is MY OPINION and is all PURE SPECULATION. I could be right, I could be completely wrong. All I know is that all the hate and the media, that's probably mostly false, are annoying and it fucks me up that it even goes this far.

So, let’s get into it all. What are the “facts” we have so far?

1. Last Tuesday, June 24th, Demi was found unconscious in her house in LA. As far as we know, Demi was found at around noon and she was alone. Apparently, she was out celebrating her dancer Dani Vitale’s birthday (I’ll get to her and the other dancers later) the night before (which we do have this video off as the only evidence) and then headed home and had a party at her house as well.

2. At first, TMZ reported that Demi overdosed on heroin, which was later reported to be false. What substance was found in her blood is unclear at this moment. Apparently, paramedics gave her narcan when they arrived and took her to the hospital. At this point, all we know is that she’s still there and dealing with her withdrawal.

3. Later that day, after hours of worrying and being scared it was reported from her rep that she’s awake, stable and responsive.

4. It’s been reported that the last few months or weeks (we don’t know the real timeline here) Demi has been struggling with her addiction again and relapsed on various occasions.

Here is what I think about this all:

When this tour started, she seemed to be in a fantastic place. She was happy, bubbly, celebrated her sixth year of sobriety and nothing pointed towards a possible downward spiral, at least not at the time. The only thing that, looking back on it now, probably should’ve concerned some people is her sudden break with CAST Center and everyone involved (especially Mike, because he’s literally been with her every day during the American leg of the TMYLM Tour), her manager Phil and two of her absolute best friends, Marissa Callahan and Nick Jonas. But even then everyone, myself included, thought that there must’ve been a reason for it and it wasn’t really our place to judge because we didn’t know what happened. It was just weird that she suddenly cut off four people at once. Even her tweets seemed to tell us a story that no one really got. It was shady and messy. But hey, I just thought that whatever happened between her and those people probably hurt, and we all know that she is impulsive and stubborn. It wouldn’t be the first stubborn, shady tweet she’d send out. I was a little worried at that point because I knew how much these four people meant to her and I just thought “Oh my god, what if she got hurt really bad?” But again…it wasn’t really our place to judge, was it?

Another thing that probably should’ve concerned a few people was the fact that she went to Coachella. I mean, yes…she was good with going to parties and staying sober and clean, but Coachella is a whole other level. That’s not the right place for a recovering addict. But I tried to stay positive and told myself “Hey, she’s strong. She just celebrated her six years of sobriety. She can handle it.”…that was until she released “Sober” and I immediately thought that it must’ve been the whole Coachella thing that fucked everything up, combined with a few wrong people surrounding her. But we all know Demi, and we know how good she is at putting on a smile and not letting people know what’s happening in her life. I saw her live in concert in June, and she was just the Demi we all love and adore. Nothing seemed off. Even though, according to some posts and reports, she must’ve already been back to using drugs and drinking.

In “Sober” she sounds vulnerable, ashamed and embarrassed about relapsing, and in her lyrics, she promised to get help. I was positive about it. I never judged her for her relapse, and I never will. It’s part of recovery. She’s human like everyone else, and humans make mistakes. Sometimes, they can’t help but to make them when there’s that little guy called “addiction” sitting in the corner of their brains. In recovery, he’s constantly whispering to you that you need a drink/drug and that it’ll make you feel better and it won’t hurt anybody. Nobody will notice. Usually, he’s not loud enough, but then there comes a point in your life when everything else around you is quiet and all of a sudden he sees his chance and starts shouting all these things at you as loud as he can. And in order to make him stop, you give in. You do what he tells you to do so he finally shuts up.

Let’s move on, though…After “Sober” I hoped she’d be okay. I never saw the overdose coming. I would’ve never thought we’d get to this point where we almost lost her forever. Knowing that breaks my heart just as much as it breaks yours. But all if this doesn’t take away her six years of staying sober, clean and healthy. That’s a fucking accomplishment and nobody can take that away from her!

So…let me get into all the bullshit that’s been going around on Twitter. Let me start with Mike Bayer:

Mike was her life coach for how many years? Ever since she left Timberline Knolls, as far as I know. He was always an incredible person, never said a bad word about her and in Simply Complicated, he told us about what happened with Demi when she first lost control. And he also told us another thing: “The most important thing to Demi is losing people. It’s losing people that care about her and that love her.” Doesn’t that sound like that’s exactly what happened this time around? You gotta keep in mind that this overdose is a whole other level. Her first struggles weren’t as server as this one. So, what if all Mike (and Phil, Marissa and Nick) wanted to do is help her, but she blocked him? What if she didn’t think her problems were as bad as they apparently are and didn’t accept his help? What if she pushed him away because she was annoyed with his constant attempts to help? So Mike did what he had to do and stepped back. I have to admit, I wasn’t fair to him during that time. I was kind of mad at him, especially after that article came out saying she was fired from CAST because she relapsed and that contract she apparently signed or whatever that was…Looking back at all of this now, it was probably all to help her.

Let’s move on…Next on the list is Phil McIntyre:

He was Demi’s manager her whole career. He was the one who saw that Demi was special and had a God given talent, he stood by her side through her first breakdown and still continued to see her potential. I’m not gonna comment on his ability as a manager, because I literally don’t know shit about management, and neither do you, but I still see posts on Twitter constantly bashing him and calling him a bad manager. Do you all forget that he literally helped the Jonas Brothers becoming one of the most successful bands in the late 2000s? And you know what? Let him be a bad manager, I don’t give a fuck…but at least he is a really great human being who cares about his clients more than he cares about money and fame and success. Imagine if Demi would’ve had a different manager, one that pushes his clients so hard to make the most amount of money. One that doesn’t care much about his clients' well-being…one who pushes them so hard that all they can do to cope with the pressure is drink or do drugs…would you really want Demi to be managed by someone like that? At the vulnerable state that she’s constantly in? I don’t think so. Phil apparently staged an intervention, which might’ve been the breaking point in his and Demi’s relationship. So she “fired” him and Lauren Einbinder took over.

Next please…oh yes, Marissa Callahan:

Where do I start with Marissa? Her and Demi have been the absolute best friends for years. They shared some of the same struggles when it comes to mental health issues and Marissa has always been by her side. To me, the two of them were always friendship goals. I personally don’t think Marissa was ever a bad influence to Demi. When Demi started drinking, they were both young and stupid, so we can’t really blame her for anything. There are many teenagers who introduce their friends to alcohol. That doesn’t necessarily mean that these friends will end up becoming addicts. But with Demi, it was a little different. The underlying, undiagnosed mental health issue was part of the reason she developed this addiction, and neither her parents, nor her best friend Marissa could've possible seen the outcome of an early alcohol consume. So, please stop blaming Demi’s addiction on her. If it wasn’t her who introduced her to alcohol, Demi would've eventually gotten in contact with it another way. That’s what happens with teenagers. Okay, so…their friendship was one of the strongest I’ve ever seen. Just earlier this year, they were on vacation together for…how long was that…14 days? It was a long vacation and they seemed to have such a good time. And suddenly, about two or three months later, Demi unfollows her, posts shady tweets and when asked about her best friends, she just names Sirah and Matthew. Usually, Marissa would’ve been on top of that list as well. So, the fact that Marissa probably stepped away as well shows how server Demi’s drug use must’ve been. Just like Mike, Phil and Nick, Marissa wasn't enabling it. And who wants to watch their best friend destroy themselves? No one. Since all attempts to help Demi obviously didn’t work, Marissa stepped away, probably for her own mental health as well.

Now my favorite…Nick Jonas:

You know why he’s my favorite? That dude knows what he’s doing…and it worked the first time. Just at the end of 2017, Demi and Nick were at such an incredible place in their friendship. They were recording each other’s performances on each other’s phones, flew home in the same private jet…just a few weeks before that, Demi basically admitted to having some sorts of feelings for him in two of her songs. In an interview, she said that the person she wrote these songs about loved them and told her he wrote songs about her as well. I’m not saying this because I ship them a lot, but they were slowly heading towards something much stronger than friendship. I personally think that if all of this wouldn’t have happened, instead of getting the report of Demi overdosing, we would’ve gotten some kind of romance update on them. So how come that a friendship as strong and powerful as theirs suddenly ends with her unfollowing him on all social media? Listen to this interview at 7.15min. Nick basically explains it all. He stepped away to save himself from a possible heartbreak that he would’ve suffered if he would’ve kept watching her going down that spiral. And it’s not like he didn’t try. He also once said that the first time she was struggling, he tried to talk to her, but she cut him off. Just like she did again now. I hate to see people tweeting that he’s the reason she relapsed, or that he’s a bad guy in all of this. Just like Marissa, he probably just didn’t wanna witness his best friend ruining herself. I’ve been there, too. I’ve had friends struggling with mental health issues, and in order to keep my sanity, I had to step back at a certain point. So don’t judge him!

Now that I touched on Mike, Phil, Marissa and Nick, let’s get to the messy part…the one where everyone blames her dancers and even members of her family:

I wanna start with Dianna. People are really sending her hate and blame her, when all she was probably doing the past week was being worried as fuck about her daughter? Like…do you even realize how fucked up that this? This woman almost lost her child. She was almost at a point where, instead of planning which treatment center is best for her, she had to plan a funeral. Give her a fucking break! I’m not saying that everything was right in their family, but I think people tend to forget that Dianna herself struggles with mental health issues. So maybe she didn’t even see the depth of the problem. Maybe she couldn’t quite understand how server the whole situation was. And guess what, guys? Maybe she even tried to do something…but Demi is a 25-year-old, grown ass woman. And an addict. And stubborn as fuck. Do you really think she would’ve listened to her mother? Besides that, she’s manipulative. What if she told her mom that everything is okay? She can be super convincing, so what if Dianna believed her?  It’s incredibly rude to assume Dianna had something to do with all of this. She is a mother. And from what I’ve seen the past few years that I’ve been following this family, she’s a great one. She loves her daughters.

And now…the part you’ve all probably been waiting for: Demi’s dancer

I honestly don’t even know where to start. Do I start at the American leg of the TMYLM tour? Or do I jump right into the European leg? Do I compare this tour with others that didn’t have dancers? I should probably do all of that. So…I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: The Future Now Tour was and always will be the best tour Demi has ever put together. Why? Well, not only did she travel through America with her best friend, but she was also surrounded by people who really, really cared about her. She had an incredible team, her best friend and she was the happiest I’ve ever seen her. She was free. Whenever they had a day off, they’d so some fun things…things that didn’t necessarily trigger her. And did you guys notice something? There were no dancers. In my opinion, she never needed dancers. Demi’s talent doesn’t need some extra special effects. She could play a two hours show with just her piano and a guitar, and people would still be fascinated by her.

But…I liked the dancers. There were fun, and from what I’ve seen on Instagram, they all had an incredible time. Everyone seemed so genuinely nice and funny and Demi seemed to love them as well. But what did they do when they had a day off? They were partying. And sometimes, Demi joined them. Like I said earlier in this post, there was a time where Demi could easily be part of a party and not care at all. She would drink her red bull and that’s it, but this year was different. She relapsed, and was surrounded by people who consumed alcohol. I’m not saying they caused it, or that they are to blame for it, but Demi was no longer at a place where she could be around that. Could they have done something about it? Maybe, but maybe they didn’t even realize what was going on before it was too late. That being said, let’s focus a little on two of the dancers that have been on top of the “let’s blame people for Demi’s overdose” list the past few days. And these people are Jackie and Dani. Now, Jackie fucked up. I’m sure all of you have seen the video of her doing coke on her Instagram. That’s pretty messy and I definitely don’t agree with what she did. And I seriously hope that she didn’t do it around Demi. While that could’ve been a triggering point for her, it still doesn’t mean that we can blame Jackie for Demi’s overdose.

Now Dani…I’m really conflicted at this point. I love Dani. I’ve met her. I’ve talked to her and what she said to us, how she treated us and what she then offered us was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced or expected from someone. She was one of the nicest, kindest and most humble people I have ever met in my life. She was so patient with us and really, really genuine. She’s always been getting hate, for ridiculous shit like being responsible for Jojo to leave the tour. People even said that she kicked her off and took her place…like bitch, they were literally both on that tour in America. Nobody took anyone’s place here. So I was already like “Damn, she doesn’t deserve that. She’s so fucking nice.”. So when I saw that everyone was now attacking her for causing Demi’s overdose, I was like “Okay, hold the fuck on…” Here’s what we know: Demi was at Dani’s birthday party. That alone is nothing to be extremely worried about. Like…Demi going to her friend’s birthday party? How fucking normal from her. Damn, Demi. And we all didn’t know how server her drug use was at this point. And guess what? Maybe Dani didn’t know either? Just like Demi’s family might not haven know just how bad it really was? We don’t know what happened at the party. We didn’t see any videos or pictures of her drinking with Dani. What if she didn’t do any of that while Dani was around?

Okay, let’s continue…Even though it was Dani’s birthday party, and Demi reportedly continued partying at her house with some people, that doesn’t mean Dani was there as well because for all we know, the party at Demi’s house had nothing to do with her birthday anymore. So…let’s say she was no longer there…how can you blame her for the overdose? How can you blame anyone who was there for the overdose? The only plausible explanation about when Demi overdose is the next morning, a little while before she was found. At that point, I’m 100% sure nobody else was at the house anymore. Didn’t someone say Demi was alone when it happened? Okay, it was probably one of these oh so reliable sources, but it makes the most sense to me. Like…yes, there were probably people enabling the drug use, but I can’t imagine anyone really letting someone overdose and possibly die. So nobody left her alone. Nobody just “watched” her overdose. She was alone, I don’t think it was her intention to overdose and she was lucky someone found her in time. If she would’ve overdosed that night…and then someone found her around noon…as hard as it is to hear, but then she wouldn’t be with us anymore. So stop blaming Dani. And stop reading too much into her statement.

I could say a lot more things…about the guys she’s been seen with (you know…when everyone thought she was out with G-Eazy?) for example. Or Dilmer, which I’m not gonna get into because those of you who follow me know how I feel about them as a couple. But this is already long enough. Like I said, I don’t blame anyone.

I’m gonna say this once and for all: THE ONLY ONE TO BLAME FOR DEMI’S OVERDOSE IS HER FUCKING ADDICTION! None of the people she’s been surrounding herself with forced her to do anything. She did that all on her own, because her addiction got stronger. Remember that little guy I told you about earlier? Yeah, he was yelling like a motherfucker!

[cancerbiophd]

By Paris H. Grey - Original article in title link

Motivation killer No. 1: Following a schedule doesn’t work for you

I’ve always been a night owl. Early in my research career, I took full advantage of this by working the “night shift” during university holidays. Arranging my research schedule around my preferences (and when there was ample parking) made learning complicated techniques easier and gave me the freedom to test time-management strategies when I was most productive. Plus, only a few other labmates worked the same hours, so it was easy to negotiate when two of us wanted to use the PCR machine or turn up the stereo. As my career responsibilities and life have evolved, I rarely have the same opportunities to indulge my night-mode tendency, but I’m glad I took advantage of it when I was starting out because it gave me insight that I’ve used throughout my career.

As a graduate student, you probably have the opportunity to determine the research schedule that is right for you, both for your research productivity and your life outside the lab. How much flexibility you’ll have will be influenced by various factors, including your course load, whether you’re a teaching assistant, the types of experiments you do, and possibly your mentor’s availability and expectations. But within that framework, explore all your options. Listen to your brain and your body. Experiment to figure out when you do your best intellectual work, such as planning experiments and writing, and when your brain is uncooperative and best suited for mindless tasks, such as washing lab ware and racking pipette tips. Then use your talents when you’re the most effective.

For those who are most productive when only a few labmates are around, be sure to still make an effort to overlap with everyone on a regular basis. It’s the connections you build with them that will help carry you through the tougher challenges in graduate school.

Motivation killer No. 2: Losing focus at the start of the day

We all have those days. You arrive at the lab ready to seize the day, but before you’ve had the chance to grab an ice bucket or set up a reaction, a labmate asks whether you’ve seen the video of that tiny hamster eating a tiny burrito. You haven’t. This of course leads to an internet search to watch the video, and a few others, followed by a quick Instagram check, then over to Twitter where you discover links to several must-read stories. The next thing you know, group meeting is about to start. After that, it’s time for lunch and a coffee run before meeting with the undergraduate you’re mentoring. Suddenly, it’s late afternoon—too late to start an experiment because you’d be in the lab all night—so it makes more sense to call it a day and start fresh tomorrow.

Occasionally losing focus at the start of the day like this is nothing to worry about. But even the most dedicated researcher can struggle with maintaining consistency if they are regularly, immediately distracted upon arriving at the lab.

If you have trouble getting your work day started, try planning tasks that allow you to be productive within the first hour of arriving at the lab—even if what you accomplish is a small thing. You might prefer to design an experiment, write, read a journal article, or head straight to the bench. My approach is to wait to check email or social media until my first experiment is underway. One PI told me that her strategy when she was a graduate student was to routinely set up overnight experiments that required her attention at the start of the next work day. Another colleague no longer schedules early morning meetings because doing so quashes her motivation for the rest of the day.

Once you’ve developed the habit of getting to work as soon as you arrive at the lab, on most days, the momentum should help you move forward until it’s time for a break. (For more on the importance of taking breaks, see motivation killer No. 4.) However, if you find yourself stuck in a pattern of having trouble getting started, it probably indicates that you’re overdue for a vacation, or that you might need to discuss your career plans or mental health with a counselor.

Motivation killer No. 3: Including too many—or too few—details on your to-do list

It seems simple enough: Write down what you need to get done and then do it. But there is an art to creating useful to-do lists. When done correctly, they help you stay organized and provide satisfaction when crossing off a finished task. But when done improperly, to-do lists will continually make you feel as if you’re behind—which will absolutely destroy your motivation.

Effectively managing a to-do list starts with learning how much information you need to stay organized without becoming overwhelmed by the volume of it. I learned this at the start of my research career, when I followed the example of a researcher down the hall and made highly detailed to-do lists. The system worked for her. But for me, staring at a list that included every research detail, from making media to setting the temperature on an incubator, felt overwhelming. Since then, I’ve learned through trial and error that a short list representing broad tasks helps me get work done without sabotaging my motivation. Others might benefit the most from lists that land somewhere in between. If you’re not sure about what will work best for you, you can experiment with different approaches to home in on the answer.

As you’re discovering what level of detail helps you stay on track, also consider the type of reminder system that you need. If it’s helpful, enable push notifications on your devices for deadlines, target dates, and tasks. If your blood pressure rises each time your phone pings with another reminder of something you haven’t yet accomplished, try a low-tech solution such as a whiteboard or bullet journal.

Motivation killer No. 4: Working without breaks

If the only reasons you stop lab work are to attend a seminar, troubleshoot a labmate’s technical woes, or read a journal article, you won’t achieve the daily renewal that is essential for taking care of yourself. You should take breaks during your research day, and those breaks should leave you feeling energized.

To ensure that your breaks support your well-being, you need to understand how you recharge. If chatting with labmates about an upcoming vacation or connecting with others online brings fresh motivation, daily renewal in the lab can be relatively easy to achieve. For some, myself included, the better choice is to unplug from the internet and remove all the demands on my time by taking a short walk or savoring a cup of coffee. If what you’re currently doing isn’t bringing you some sense of renewal during your research day, then repurpose your breaks until you find something that does.

Motivation killer No. 5: Focusing on minor negative details

I used to detest preparing antibiotic stocks. It’s not difficult or time intensive, yet I would put it off until it couldn’t wait any longer. By focusing on how much I disliked this particular task, I wasted emotional energy and made finding the motivation to get it done more difficult. Then, spurred by an Instagram post I wrote asking others what lab chore they disliked most, I realized that I should change my perspective. I acknowledged that making the stocks was never going to be fun, but my labmates relied on me to do it and I just needed to get it done. With this mindset adjustment, the chore immediately became less annoying. I still don’t look forward to preparing the stocks, but it’s now easier to prioritize.

If your mantra about a lab chore, updating your notebook, or doing the prep work for an experiment has become, “This is so boring; I hate doing it,” stop reinforcing that negativity. Embrace the fact that some tasks are annoying, and start thinking of them as steppingstones to interesting experiments. You can also try listening to music or podcasts while tackling a boring task or rewarding yourself after it’s done. That way you’ll save your energy for managing the major frustrations, such as failed projects and rejected manuscripts, that are inevitably a part of research.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HOW TO GET STARTUP HUB

You'd have to get close, and stay close, to your users. So he sets as his goal in the Metaphysics the exploration of knowledge that has no practical use. The lesson: don't pick cofounders who will flake. One founder said explicitly that the relationship between risk and reward are equivalent, decreasing potential rewards automatically decreases people's appetite for risk doesn't merely kill off larval startups, but taxed away all other surplus wealth? And that is the most recent of many people to ask why Twitter is such a big deal. The reason is that variation in productivity is accelerating. A deals per partner per year. It didn't shake itself free till a couple hundred years ago, it would still be important to release quickly, because for most of that time the leading practitioners weren't doing much more than writing commentaries on Plato or Aristotle while watching over their shoulders for the next twenty years, they'd get surprisingly far.

Now the only threshold is courage. If there's something people still won't do, it seems as if society just has to be pierced too. Sometimes it literally is software, like Hacker News and our application system. I haven't decided. I don't consider myself to be doing research on programming languages. The arrival of a new type of investor is big news for startups, because there used to be rare and valuable. Is there a downside to ramen profitability? But while some openly flaunt the fact that the founders of the companies we've funded were started by undergrads.

One founder said this should be your approach to all programming, not just as a landmark in the history of philosophy. Ok, it may inhibit you from thinking improper thoughts. Particularly to young companies that are above pulling this sort of trick to pledge publicly not to. What makes anything good? But with other types of startups you may win less by features and more by deals and marketing. Structurally, the list of n things is so relaxing. I'm going to number these points, and maybe a lot longer. When I talk to the founders instead of the company to give up in one shot.

In fact what you do? 90% of what ends up in my essays was that they weren't written the way we'd been taught to write essays in school. VCs. In math and the hard sciences. The only way their performance is measured is by how cheaply they can buy you, because both acquirers and investors judge you by your level of commitment. The only way to know for sure would be to a sculptor. That will change the balance of power between the networks and the people who produce shows. Which means a junk food can be very cheap, and b it's worth spending a lot to start a startup: a founder quits, you discover a patent that covers what you're doing, even if they had to work at another job to make money, and if you know what?

But there's no central, indivisible thing that your identity goes with. As a little piece of debris, the rational thing for you to solve. Now the people who make the most money: make the best surgeons operate with their left hands, force popular actors to overeat, and so did a YC founder I read the list in any order. Other times it's more unconscious. In fact, some of each. I sent all the founders an email asking what surprised them most about doing a startup was how fun it was: I think you've left out just how fun it was: I think you've left out just how fun it is to focus on the upside: they get a percentage of the fund's gains. I think you've left out just how fun it was: I think the difference between its retail price at a garage sale. I'd prefer it. I see behind the scenes what an enormous amount of work it takes to raise money to survive. The Meander is a river in Asia Minor aka Turkey. It's not something you read looking for a specific answer, and feel cheated if you don't have to work harder.

And they have for so long that by now the US car industry there is a connection between economic inequality and risk. Mainly because it's easier to read than a regular article. It was not till I was in Africa last year and saw a lot of time trying to learn how to predict which startups will succeed. And certainly Dickens himself would be more surprising if they didn't. Let's rehearse the chain of argument so far. And there has been a qualitative change in the last 10 years. If we could look into the past. They get away with maltreating developers, in the sense of making a single thing. Though indeed, it's been a while since they were three just because serving web pages recently got a lot cheaper. But after the talking is done, the decision about what to do, most kids have been thoroughly misled about the idea of work finally broke free from the idea of letting founders partially cash out, let me tell them something still more frightening: you are now competing directly with Google.

One of my first drawing teachers told me: As a result of their process, the App Store does not give me the drive to develop applications as I would like. He knows the world; she knows, or at any rate adjust your conclusions so you're not claiming anything false 6 of 8 subjects had lower blood pressure after the treatment. That may seem a frivolous reason to choose one language over another. That's why fundraising and the enterprise market kill and maim so many startups. That's the only rational explanation for focusing on getting internships at companies they want to do more with a startup than just start it. Civilization always seems old, because for a startup: a founder quits, you discover a patent that covers what you're doing; even if you're never called on to solve advanced problems, you can safely talk to them, and they'll say the same thing. Words seem to work, just as newspapers that put their stories online still seem to wish people would wait till the next morning and read them printed on paper. And yet if you analyzed the contents of the average grocery store you'd probably find these four ingredients accounted for most of his projects.

But it's harder, because now you're working against social customs instead of with them. What surprised me the most is that everything was actually fairly predictable! You can't replace those. Some might say it's part of science, but it's not part of any specific science; it's literally meta-physics in our sense of meta. But is that more important than others? Instead you should draw a few quick lines in roughly the right place, and I've now realized it. If you're small, they don't have a problem with acquisitions is that they get paid up front. That kind of work the recipe is in big companies is toxic to programmers. At first we thought it might be good to be precise about what we want. I want to do it: give money to the poor, you have graphs showing rising revenue or traffic month after month, you don't need to know about M & A conversations can be like nothing you've experienced in the otherwise comparatively upstanding world of Silicon Valley. When founders seem unfocused, I sometimes suggest they try to force you to treat a question on their terms by asking are you with us or against us?

[jake-guentzel-59]

Shoot your Shot Part 2 - Auston Matthews

I didn’t think i would get this part up today because I’m busy with packing and moving for college but I had some spare time. Sorry again for the lack of Auston in this one. I do believe that he is in this one more but I’m working on part 3 now and I can say he’s in most of that one. Also I’m pretty sure it’s going to have more than 5 parts. I don’t know how many yet though. Words: 1773 Warnings: Cursing, I think that’s it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first two periods were going great, for Toronto fans. Yes, I was wearing a Toronto jersey but you always have to go for your favourite team and right now mine was losing 2-1. Auston scored a goal and pointed in the direction of where me and Kenzie were sitting. She's convinced that he was pointing at me but I know he was just celebrating the goal. The teams were both out shooting around before the third period started. Kenzie had made me go and get her food because she had to stay and see if Auston looked for me. I think she is a bit naive to think he's actually looking at me. There's 100's of people here and about 40 around me for him to be looking at. He was probably looking at a friend or family member in the audience. I was making me way back with Kenzies' food, almost at our seats when all of sudden I feel the worst pain I have ever felt in my eye. I ended up dropping all of the food while grabbing my eye. Kenzie came running up to me asking if I was okay.   "I don’t know" I told her taking my hand off my eye seeing blood. Kenzie gagged at the site of my blood. She can't handle blood very well. "Oh my god! We have to get you to a hospital now, like right now!" She exclaimed, dragging me out of the arena and to her jeep "Put this on your eye and keep the pressure on it" She told me handing me a towel that one of the Leafs players gave her during the second period. "Are you sure? I don't want to ruin it on you." I asked her "You know, you're the only person I know that would rather bleed to death then ruin a god damn towel. Yes, I'm sure Logan! Now put it on your eye, I don’t want you losing an eye or anything."

We made it to the hospital in record time. I got in to see a doctor right away because it's an eye injury. The doctor came in to tell me about my eye and to fix it. "Now your eye is fine, no permanent damage to the eye itself. As for the outer portion of your eye, you're going to need stitches and you're going to have one hell of a black eye in the morning. What did you say happened to it again?" The doctor asked starting to stitch around my eye. "I actually don't kno-" Kenzie cut me off. "Her future husband was trying to hit a puck at the glass again but this time he hit it to hard and it went over the glass and hit her in the eye instead." Kenzie told the doctor. "Okay well he's not my future husband, I never even talked to him before." I explained. "Well if some hockey player shot a puck at the glass at my girl I would think he had a thing for her. But if he tried to do it again and hit her in the eye like this, I would defiantly say he wanted her attention" The doctor said laughing.   "See Logan! he gets its." She told me, trying to high five the doctor in the process. "Can't high five you right now. A little busy." He told her nodding towards my face. "Anyways, Kenzie did you call my dad?" I asked. "I didn't have to, he already knew. He's on the way, should be here soon." "How did he – Ouch-  know?" I said glaring at the doctor for hurting me "I think he was watching the game and saw it. Also, it's all over the internet already. You're basically a meme now." She said laughing "Great, that’s exactly what I wanted..."

The doctor finished with my stitches and I went to go look in a mirror. My eye was already getting a nasty bruise. It’s going to be some much worse in the morning. I can't lie though, all of the stitches and the black eye made me look like a bad ass if I'm going to be honest. "So how many stitches do I have?" I asked the doctor "17 in total, 8 on the one on the side and 9 on the one under your eye." He explained "You know what Log, you kind of look like a bad ass with your eye like that" "I was just thinking that." I told her laughing. "Alright well were done here, you'll have to come back in about a week/week and a half to get them out. I see you wear make-up so try and go make-up free until you get the stitches out. Or at least try from getting the make-up near your stitches." "Great more time for you to do my make-up!" Kenzie said a little to excitedly. I just rolled my eyes at her like usual. "Thanks for making me look like a bad ass doc!" I say as I'm leaving the room "Don't thank me, thank your future husband for hitting with that puck" He says laughing.

Kenzie was still laughing at the doctors comment while we waited for my dad. I called him to ask him where he was because I thought he would have been here a lot sooner. He ended up getting stuck in all of the traffic from the game. I pulled out my phone to text my friends we were supposed to meet to tell them that I wouldn't be there tonight and that we could it another night. They fully understood why I wouldn’t be there. Seeing as I never got to see how the game ended I decided to check twitter to see how they did. That was probably the biggest mistake ever. Somehow people found out who I was and were tweeting at me asking if I was okay, making fun of me, and sending me a bunch of memes of the puck hitting me. "While isn't this great..." I tell Kenzie as show her my twitter. She thought it was hilarious and went on her phone and retweeted a bunch of the memes. "Hey will you take a picture of my eye? I want to put it on Instagram."

It took her about 10 minutes to get the right picture. Apparently, the hospital had the worst lighting in the world and that’s why it took so long to get the picture. I say it was just her shitty picture taking abilities. My dad arrived right after she got a picture. Of course, he was freaking out and even went to go talk to my doctor. I told him everything the doctor told me but he insisted to go ask him and get told the exact same thing I told him. As soon as we made it home, and my dad stopped freaking out, I hopped in the shower and got ready for bed. I knew my eye was going to be sore tomorrow so I laid out some Advil and a bottle of water for the morning. I got under the covers and started scroll through some social media. Looking through the pictures Kenzie took I finally found one I wanted to post. Coming up with a caption is always the hardest part so I decided to keep it simple, 'Thanks for turning me into a meme and a bad ass all at the same time @auston_matthews'. After locking my phone and putting it on the charger, I went to sleep.

I woke up with the world's biggest headache. I took the Advil and laid back down until it went away or until it was more bearable. I checked my phone to see that it had blown up with notifications overnight. Most of them were from Instagram. Apparently having Auston Matthews, Mitch Marner and William Nylander follow you, and like and comment on your picture on Instagram does that.   '@auston_matthews: Sorry about the eye but it does make you look like a bad ass' '@marner_93: Not the way I would have picked to get a girl's attention Aus but Logan you really do look like a bad ass. Suits you.' '@williamnylander: Best looking bad ass I ever seen. Also, the memes about you are my favourite.'

I took a screenshot and sent it to Kenzie. She won't see it till later because that girl sleeps until like 2 in the afternoon every day. Seeing as it was only 830, I decided to go for a run. I got changed into my workout clothes, grabbed my headphones and headed out. There were a few people looking at me when I ran. It was either because of my eye or because they saw me all over the internet. Everyone looking at me got a bit uncomfortable so I decided to end my run early. I stopped by the café where Kenzie works first and got some breakfast. They have the best coffee and bagels in Toronto, I swear. It was about 930 by the time I started to head home. There was a car I never seen before in my driveway. My dad was already at work and Mads was at preschool so I didn’t know who it belonged to. The windows were a very dark tint so I couldn’t see who was driving so I knocked on the window and they started to open the door. I backed up to give them enough room to get out. It was Auston fucking Matthews. At my house. In my driveway. Standing in front of me. "Okay Logan say hi or hey or hello or anything. Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Of course, that’s exactly what you're going to do" I thought to myself just staring at him. Auston was the first to talk. "Hey, sorry about the eye and I hope it isn't weird that I showed up at your house" He said awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head "Not it's okay but how did you find out where I live?" I asked him "Well we have a friend of a friend in common and they told me when they saw it was you. I wanted to say sorry in person rather than over an Instagram comment. It felt more meaningful in person." "I understand, but thanks again, it isn't that big of a deal. I know you didn’t try to give me a black eye on purpose." I say laughing. "Well I still feel absolutely terrible for what I did. Is there anyways I can make it up to you?" He asked me "Actually, there is! Are you and a couple of the guys on the team busy today?"

[michaelcioni]

Nuclear Fusion: RED Hydrogen

My father once told me, “Sometimes those who lead get so far ahead, followers mistake them for the enemy.”

Entrepreneurs are used to facing ridicule and doubt.  We have what’s referred to as “positivity bias” which allows us to focus on the success of incremental problem solving instead of being demoralized by predictable points of failure.  I tell my colleagues when we brainstorm, “Skeptics are always welcome.”  I find that skepticism from educated and rational people can be a useful tool in triangulating the trajectory of a future that is still the fringes.  You just have to filter out the logic from the luddite.  And while most people tend to stay in the safety zone where things are predictable, eventually fringe-ideas mature, stabilize, and the biggest resistors can slowly evolve into paying customers.

RED knows this process better than most, only this time they have a lot more experience with the challenges of a blue ocean product like Hydrogen.  Even though there are numerous people boldly sharing negative reactions to today’s product announcement, the truth is without companies like RED and visionaries like Jim Jannard, the world’s technological trajectory becomes a default future.

The skeptics might not realize it, but their negative comments actually have two positive effects on entrepreneurs.   First, skepticism is like jet fuel in a turbine engine.  The more fuel you compress, the more powerful the thrust.  Skeptics that make a lot of noise create echoes through their connection networks which inadvertently validates the mission of the inventor.  Often times the greater the resistance to an idea, the greater potential impact the idea actually has.  Entrepreneurs know this.

The second thing skepticism does is work as a product roadmap.  Many skeptics make good points through logical criticisms and when a good company is listening, those criticisms can lead to course corrections.  This is precisely why Hydrogen was announced before its release.  In the case of the Panavision DXL camera, as product manager I insisted on showing a concept camera to the market 7 months before delivering it.  This allowed us to capture valuable input and course-correct the product in the months leading up to anyone actually shooting with it.  During this time, we were paying close attention to the critics and now I travel the world on tour with DXL hearing in city after city, “You guys thought of everything!”  We actually didn’t think of everything, we just listened more to the skeptics than to our fans.

But fans are also part of the equation and necessary as early adopters to help evolve the product, build infrastructure, and eventually bring the skeptics over. On the surface, RED’s announcement of the Hydrogen is not much more than an overpriced, underwhelming Solidworks picture of a phone.  As far as we’ve been told, that’s what the product is (or at least appears to be).  Because there are still many unanswered questions, what I encourage people to do is think out of the box and try to understand what the product means.  From the perspective of meaning, new ideas begin to emerge as to what is possible, or even probable, and how meaning can change the market. Here are some concepts that I see when I examine the product meaning, its makers, and its potential.

• Apple, LG, Samsung, and Sony are focused on the average consumer.  Their products and features are based on pricing tolerances which often means the products they release have known compromises in order to achieve a target price point.  Because RED’s core business is in the professional and prosumer markets, their phone can pick up where the incumbents are finically forced to leave off.

• RED is diversifying.  There are a finite amount of people that RED can consistently sell cameras to.  It’s conceivable that the RED professional market is beginning to flatline, which is likely the motivation for Raven to be introduced at a specific price point and add new customers to RED’s portfolio.  In most cases, it is healthy for a company to diversify, especially when it desires to maintain relevance in the existing market (as Jim Jannard and Jarred Land stated).  This is a sign of health, not of instability.

• Professionals are special.  Apple has been under tremendous pressure from professionals (including myself) to increase a product roadmap that includes the often unique needs that the small market of professionals require to do our jobs.  When it comes to the phone market, I have the same phone my mother has, which is to say one is no more “pro” than the other.  While I may use additional tools, accessories, or apps in order to increase my phone’s professional appeal, the products, at their core, are identical.  I see Hydrogen as an attempt at identifying a market that has been overlooked: a specialized phone for professionals who work in multi-media.

• Users make the best inventors.  When Reed Hastings was penalized for returning Apollo 13 late, Blockbuster had no idea they were the core inspiration behind Neflix, which eventually put them out of business.  I have spent a fair amount of time with Jim and Jarred and looking back, this Hydrogen idea has been with them for quite a long time.  They are always comparing and complaining about smartphones.  In the middle of a routine conversation, Jarred will get a text and complain about the phone, it’s inability to sync, its service provider, the quality of the battery, the OS, or how poorly it fits in his gigantic hands.  If you’ve been keeping track of how smartphones let you down for 10 years, you'd probably be an excellent candidate for inviting a better one.

• Focus on the knowns, not the unknowns. With over 6 months before expected delivery dates, information is, at this moment, scarce.  But from the people we know and the market we can observe, some really excellent ingredients that are likely to be incorporated into this new product in numerous ways:

RED is a modular company and modularity means more choices

RED’s core business is advanced compression and will incorporate that into the product

RED has virtually unlimited possibilities with large sensors and this will be one of the crown jewels of Hydrogen

RED’s claims about the holographic screen are not any more outlandish as a 4K camera that shoots to CF cards for $17,500

Helium is made out of Hydrogen and that metaphor means integration with cameras is guaranteed

There are numerous crossover points between RED cameras and Hydrogen which means R&D is in powerful a feedback loop which could accelerate developments of both product lines

In the end, few of us (especially creatives) want a default future.  The path to reformation requires trailblazing which means there will be blood.  Unfortunately, as evidenced with many of todays top critics, psychological changes are probably more difficult to navigate than the technological ones.  But thanks to the ingenuity and vision of RED, I believe when you examine the claims, the market, and their history, they possess what it will take to pull it off.   

But it doesn’t end there: we still play an important role in this process as well.  RED can’t get this right without our input, and that’s why the entrepreneur in me believes that our role is necessary to making this product even better: 

Some of us are the skeptics: share your criticisms in logical and constructive ways

Some of us are haters: unnecessary malice can often mask your valid input

Some of us are fans: don’t let your love for RED prevent you from having a wide perspective

If there is a healthy balance between all these things, I’m fairly confident that we’re all going to experience a very positive chain reaction when RED Hydrogen  is released. 

Michael

Twitter: @michaelcioni

Instagram: michaelcioni

[dansiddons1-blog]

Unedited one thought at a time...

I'm not happy... that night I was sleeping on my friends couch never to return to my bed. I decided then to take my life. What's happening oh the pain and I piss blood another kidney stone. Kim I need a ride to hospital I am having a kidney stone. The medicine calmed me for days without the medicine I would not be writing to you for I would have taken my life. Danny want to go to beaver dam...life as I knew changed for ever. I was raped on the trip to dam in a boat did I mention I was 5 years of age. A child force to become an adult to protect my father. I was told tell your father I will kill him. This story is about my life I will be jumping through a variety of topics. I will spell words incorrectly and not be grammatically correct. Why? Because I want it to be real as possible. Not some book that has been edited and rewritten in an editors words or some ghost writer. I will not even reread what I wrote. I want you to experience the thoughts of a mentally disabled person. I make no apologies for my writing don't care if you like it don't even have a plan outline or intention. Just my thoughts as I they fire away sometimes tormenting me others bring joy. I have never written a book and don't consider this to be a book more of my thoughts at real time on paper... that is enough for tonight my medicine is making me drowsy Time for bed but it is so hot and tomorrow...see how the thoughts never stop a flywheel in my head I want to rip out. Time to prepare myself for bed and shut the flywheel off for a few hour. Tomorrow I pray it doesn't come but as sure as the sun will rise I will to. Oh tomorrow please don't come allow me the pleasure of eternal rest. Let's see what thoughts I write tomorrow twitter trump terror ptsd happiness pain pleasure investing writing starting a business writing a paper see how fast they come and their range how can I use commas worry about spelling. If you are reading you can relate auto correct is off and my thoughts are now flying fast...BAM. Tried to save found a word counter that was word 406. I thought I was going to bed. So much to accomplish how can I retire to bed. Voices won't stop words are blurred from tears. No I won't edit it. Fine don't publish it I will keep it for myself but what about others Suffering what if they can relate like I do to other books of the mentally ill but you said you had no intent Now I do I want to save people create meetings like aa for mentally disabled. See reader how they just keep coming. Wow 498 words. How many thoughts did I miss what if I miss a good one. Good one Dan what are you trying to write. Goodnight for now 10:03pm 7/17. I must keep writing the curse of the flywheel. Maybe that will be the title. Maybe I should stay up a start a blog about what...anything you have read so much pick I topic a blog away. Folly. Still going need to put iPad down fuck them I won't change iPad I would rather it not published then to edit my thoughts...can you see how the thoughts go it is crazy. My name is Dan siddons and this is my life unedited one thought at a time. If you read this far keep reading and add you unedited thoughts along with mine and together we can all help ourselves. THE MENTALLY ILL Breakfast... What is this how you are treated in a mental crisis hospital ward? The walls are cold and old made of cider blocks. How Am I going to get better here. This is not what I thought. I am freezing so cold so cold The dining room is dirty writing on the walls oh but so great full to be here away from family. The pressure they we're applying put me here. How family misunderstands us. Back to my first Backer act at a different time Streaming videos is the future should I open a website and conquer digital content market. Why must my thoughts go towards winning? I don't like jobs I want to build a business a news platform. Streaming news...maybe I will call it TJN after my parents. Or should I post this book and see where it falls... I am off to program. Investing has always had a hold I me yet I have yet to invest funny ironic. To much debt and no money. Debt the mantra for the mentally disabled. We flush our lives away when illness flares up. The countless homes relationships money lost to this terrible illness. Most mentally ill do not know anything is wrong until homeless jobless or in jail. I though want to die was normal way to think. I was so very wrong the intangibles of mental illness is devastating. No one can see it I didn't even know until my break up with Kim see how my thoughts go back to the trauma that shattered my life...why? I want to gain control of thoughts but they are smarter than me. Back to Backer Act 1 does your family know the power of your depression. I begin crying... Panic attacks are incredibly painfully you cry want to die become paralyzed with fear. Those you have can relate. Backer Act 1 this is not the way to be treated. How can I get better here. Boot camp I can see but not a hospital. They tell me I don't want to kill my self. Oh how I want to snap his neck. Some suit I meat daily behind a desk. What does he know... or is he right oh well fuck you I am going to my room and don't call for me tomorrow suit. I glance at CNBC and see a golf course. I love golfing but STOPPED. why would I stop something I love. The plight of the mentally ill. Btw I am bouncing from Backer Act 1 to present time. Read on follow my crazy thoughts. No pattern just torture back and forth past to future impossible for me to stay in present. Oh god please help. That is how my life was before medicine. My name is Dan and those were how my thoughts controlled my before medicine... Ok back to thoughts No this is how the format needs to be. No structure like how my life was. If you edit it you write it put your name on it but no one will read you are not mentally disabled. My thoughts as they happen. My name is dan I am mentally ill and want to share what I went through. 1 thought at a time before medicine before medicine before medicine b4 medicine. Read on dear reader and add your thoughts with mine to help us the mentally ill Fast forward to present day I am stabilized with the help from doctors and medicine. Without medicine I would have taken my life. Take medicine dear reader or seek help if your thoughts are how mine used to be. Yes I can write properly but why? I am no author. I am only a man writing maybe I will keep this or erase it but edit I will not. My name is dan here are more thoughts as I turn off and let flywheel spin. My life as a mentally ill person one thought at a time. Fast so fast I can barely write them Did I mention... no I will save it for another time Fast Fast Fast Faster If only I could connect brain to iPad can you imagine. It would never make sense. But to you dear reader you know how they thoughts can be. I can STOP right now and you will now my next words because our thoughts consume us control us kill US. please pick up phone and call for help I did. Tom it's dan I am about to do something stupid... Danny you are my brother and I love you. The beginning of getting help. I am on a plane heading to Miami hoping plane crashes so I can die. So let me begin my story of getting help... As the plane is taxing to the gate I am wondering who will pick me up or will I take a taxi? A text from my brother John is waiting for me. We imbrace in a hug and the tears begin to flow something I have been doing lately and will continue for the next few months. Tears tears tears. Driving to his house he questions me about using drugs and if I continue I am not welcome at his home. He searches my bag. Drugs? I don't use drugs what is going on what did I get myself involved here... Back to the thoughts the flywheel of my youth. I am no go worthless. I failed first grade almost failed a second time out of fear of being raped I faked sick and stayed how. I was sick mentally sick but no one knew I didn't even know. So I dive into reading and sports. I know everything in sports. My dad brings home a Nintendo we love it. I spend hours to escape from the thoughts. I am the neighbor hood Tecmobool champion. I stop writing for today. This is boring not convening anything. My reader I apologize. I refuse to edit or start again. I want this to be me dan siddons one thought at a time. I slept in today may my depression is about to pick up and I have no desire to continue to write as of now. You relate and please accept my apologies. I am crying because I am providing no content. I STOP....wandering if I will continue? Only time will tell. Dan siddons my existence one thought at a time. I am continuing writing I can't stop but nothing is making sense. Maybe that is good because when the thoughts get going do they make sense? Dear reader relate don't give up on me I need you right now. We need to unite to help the others suffering. See my thoughts are of helping building. Why can't I be normal get a job pay my dues retire and wait to be called home? But I am constantly driving I read many books a month I build a website just to get followers then close it. Fear no. Competition I win I am better I dive in kill the opposition then STOP. To begin a something new. My fellow reader I know you do the same. WHY? Mental illness is fickle. Isn't it. We build then flush. Build then flush. And the process repeats... Now the thoughts are flying. I said I was done for the day but the drive keeps me typing. Making sense no and yes. Read into the thoughts my new friend. They are all over. Run on sentences. Crazy punctuation. Isn't that how your mind goes when you let it. So maybe it is making sense. Either way I don't care. I am writing unfiltered unedited as they come. Not a journey not a book. Not anything just words. Maybe one writing I will be deep rich with meaning maybe not. Maybe I will erase like I do everything in my life. I have never put words on paper. As you can tell. Haha. I make no apologies I am not an author. I am dan siddons unedited unapologetic. A mentally disabled man sharing his life and thoughts. Will I provide advice no never I can't I don't know what you dear reader or going through. As I write I realized earlier I said pick up phone. I take that back. Do what you will. If your life has been like mine you consider dying as a pleasure not a loss. When things are good in the back of you mind we we know that pain will come back. I was hospitalized for 2 years maybe I will tell of that maybe not. See just my thoughts. I make no apologies for my jumping. Beginning I was going to share my beginning of getting help. Then I said I was done for the day and I am stil typing fast fast fast. Now I can't Stop. I know I am not making sense but to you dear reader I am for you go through same process. Why bring up hospital and not share that experience. Why you ask editor because I don't want to. This is raw my thoughts as there come Break in point dear reader I found skills to control thoughts but not to control my desire to die. I can write this correctly. In a more of a story form but that is not how are life works when the illness kicks in and takes over. So I will continue to write one thought at a time as I ALLOW them to come through. See allow. I have control of the thoughts. But that's a boring tale written by many. Accept for know my style for someday I may writ correctly to show I can but why? I want this raw my thoughts unfiltered unapologetic I am who I am. Yes I have written papers on investments this is not the place for that. Forgive and read and see how I let the thoughts to TORTURE me. Dan If loved ones are reading. You are my reason for writing and also the reason of this chaos. Chaos your loved one is going through or went through. The thoughts are fast and uncontrollable and torturing. Why didn't I put this in the beginning because. A point needs to be made here right NOW: rember no outline no plan. Yes the statement is contradicting I know because I am sounding like there is a plan. The thought hit me now to address you the loved one of the mentally ill. And I will not edit or replace to fit better or read better. So I guess I do have a plan. It is a plan of the Chaos of our the mentally ill thoughts. So again I make no apologies for my mistakes in English writing style. It needs to be this way because our thoughts are not fair they just come drive some to kill them I want to make a serious thought out statement. To the loved ones please I plead with you to learn about the illness of your suffer. Why? During a moment of irrational thought people of every make and model have taken their life's. Think with me for a brief moment. Jumping out a window or off a building or cliff to stop the pain yet knowing their life will not continue is counter intuitive. Evolution has not remedied this epidemic of suicide. To many are taking their lives because of unacceptance from loved ones. You loved one are our heroes... My fellow reader how is your Day? Tell me. Email me. dsiddons2016@gmai.com Let's come together and begin a crusade to help US the mentally disabled. Idk maybe a blog maybe a channel... suggestions? I will share a little story of being in the South Florida State Mentally Hospital. People are walking around like a college dorm. Are they comfortable here? I wasn't but then I ecame like them comfortable a shift happened. Funny but I enjoyed being there. I took advantage of all the help I could get. I had two of the BEST doctors. I was very fortunate for them. I thought I was going to be there for years. I feel in love with jumping in front of a train while being in jail. In jail without medicine. Did I mention I was arrested. I'll come back to that at a different time. That is all for now about the hospital. Today would be great if I went away called home by god. God allow me to live today according to your will. A prayer I repeat throughout my day. As much as I can write about mentally illness. I won't that would be boring and many have. I will continue one thought at a time. Read fast read fast. You know the thoughts they fire and they are off to the races. Maybe I will end here. Keep only for me. That can be good or bad. Only time will tell. Time. Man made and it controls us. Folly. Leave time for others let's get better together Should I just unleash the thoughts... Can you handle them. I know you can but your thoughts are hard to handle they just come and won't stop. I remember how draining they were. Some days I just selt from the mentally anguish of the thoughts. Other times I would not sleep for days. Manic maybe. I don't like this session forgive me please. Raw my thoughts should I... no lets keep these ones to me. I hated school did you? But I love to learn. I have a desire for knowledge and a willingness to earn it. Do you? What is your addiction? What drives you? Learning drives me I read I read I read I read I read I read... I currently live in a group home crazy. I started with hospital then school now living. situation make sense? Yes to us the mentally ill. The thought come in all different angles. Funny right I will have to self publish for no publisher can understand this book. But you dear reader you can I feel it. Your thoughts go and drive you MAD!!!!!! The pain? Go through it. It makes you stronger. The mantra of those who never experienced mental pain. Look at the sunshine. Fuck off. You look at it leave me the fuck alone. Be grateful of life. Fuck off I am getting serious. Walk away. Some dip shit tech in the hospital that sits on her ass all day. You don't know my pain because you sat in a training that you didn't pay attention TO!! I was just sucker punched... as I come to refocused my arms are protecting my head. As a good at him blood everywhere I thought my ear fell off. Tech graphs him. I want to knock him into another world. I walk away put my fist through the wall one of many times. I press charges police tell me I was hit 32 times fell over bench got up procecting my head. Nothing happens for 3 weeks we walk by on another. Should I snap his neck break his arm kill him... I do nothing for 3 fucking weeks I restrained myself. I am told they are moving me to another unit. Dead focus glare at doctor I say nothing. She is uncomfortable with my stare Minutes pass... Dan Dan Daniel I hate that name. What? I am not moving to another unit. She tells me to call my father. 3 hours later Cory is moved to another unit. Sad pissed off I had to have my father call to get him moved. Another hole in the wall. I was attacked 18 times fought back once. Here is why. I will come back at different time to explain not ready yet... Let's laugh at my writing style hahaha. My fellow reader. This is how it must be RAW Scattered like our lives thoughts actions feelings emotions relationships jobs... Why write any other way. I am writing to you. I feel your thoughts I know them. I went through them. Not so much these days. MEDICINE. Thank you GOD for my medicine. My name is dan siddons I have a mental illness and I am happy to share about it. The release feels so good. What take medicine away?! Ok prepare a funeral because I Refuse to go through that inner pain again. I am not happy she says with tear falling down her beautiful face. 6 month pass I cry a lot many times during the day. My friend did you cry do you cry now. I start drinking heavy to kill the pain. From morning until bed I consume alcohol Was not a drinker. Will I become one? Idk just want the pain to subside and feel relief. Present day I don't drink MEDICINE has given me life purpose direction. Not every day is good. But those pre med days I don't know how I didn't kill my self. My bedroom in Chris's house had a gun. Why I never used it I can't answer. I think the booze worked. Where should we go know? I stop writing but my drive continues to type. You fellow reader the thoughts drive you made. Family? They don't understand me. Friends I have none. Girlfriend? They hear of my past and run Run run My name is dan siddons I am not an author I am a man who suffers from a mental disability and I am sharing my life to you one thought at a time as they enter and as I remember them. Dan Dan dan I continue writing no I will stop but I can't my drive won't allow me. Dear reader the thoughts are consuming aren't they? Don't they ever tire. Their energy is incredible they even enter our dreams. Stop stop stop coping skills. I will spend the whole day replacing them. So I take medicine for quality of life Quality Of Life Yes!!! If you don't like it fuck off I will find a publisher See I as I write I am have an imaginary argument with a publisher. Oh how fun and fickle this life is. Why won't it end? My drive thoughts say I am here to impact. Impact I can't even get out of bed. How am I supposed to impact? Any sane person would have me hospitalized after reading only a few sentences But they don't understand mental illness I don't understand it. How can "they" Embrace this style write your own In your own way We will come together a help us the mentally disabled bam bam bam. The thoughts bouncing off my skull. Oh my friend I pray for you to get better. Is there a getting better or just surviving this terrible illness. Fuck it right yes FUCK IT!!!!

[phawareglobal]

Allison Wells - phaware® interview 332

Pulmonary Hypertension Patient Allison Wells is a substitute teacher from Gander Newfoundland. In this episode, Allison discusses self-diagnosing her PH and her decision to adopt.

My name is Allison Wells, I'm currently living in Gander, Newfoundland. I am a substitute teacher and I have a two-year-old daughter and I was diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension at the age of 27 in 2017. I started realizing that something was wrong before Christmas the year prior. My earliest memory of thinking that there was maybe something wrong with me was when I was putting up my Christmas tree. I was bent over fluffing the limbs of the tree and every time I would stand back up I like I had a head rush. Just going up the stairs, I was getting winded, but it was winter and I just thought, well, I haven't been walking or being very active lately. [I thought] maybe once the spring came and I could get outside again and build up some endurance that was the whole issue, but it just kept getting worse and worse. I did see my family doctor and like many other people, it's not something that comes to mind right away since it is a rare disease. I was tested for allergies and asthma and kidney disease and few different things. I actually self-diagnosed myself, which I know they tell you not to like Google your symptoms, but I did and that was what I came out with, this disease met all the symptoms that I had. Maybe a month before I was diagnosed I was decorating for my sister's baby shower. Blowing up a balloon, I took a picture of myself and sent it to my friend. I was like, "Oh, blowing a balloon, not good for the pulmonary hypertension," as a joke. Then, a month later, when I was diagnosed that I actually messaged her and I told her that that was actually what I had and it was a shock, but kind of funny at the same time. My actual diagnosis came in May of the next year after I started having symptoms. I was at school and I went up a flight of stairs and got really lightheaded and actually passed out walking into a classroom full of grade nine students. There was another teacher there and someone caught me before I hit the ground, but they made me go to the hospital. I ended up being in hospital for an entire month. A lot of that was just waiting.

[I was] hooked up to heart monitors. My pressures were actually at 120. Everyone was super concerned. I couldn't do anything, I would just move from my bed, sit in a chair and I would set off the alarm because my heart rate was so high just from any small movement. The doctor that I'd seen, after looking at my report and my numbers wanted me to have the IV meds administered right away. He didn't want me to wait even overnight. He wanted to have it done that evening. He was really pushing for it. My mother was freaking out, wanted to have it done right away. I just thought it was going to be like, okay, here's some IV meds. We'll take it out in a couple of weeks’ time and start you out on some oral [therapy]. But he said, no, it was going to be for life and it was a port, and you’re going to have to mix your meds. You would have to have a special nurse. You'd never be able to swim or even shower regularly. I didn't want to do that until I spoke to a specialist. But the doctor that I was seeing said that he wasn't sure that I would even last through the night with how high my pressures were. But my vitals were fine, my oxygen was good, my blood pressure was fine, and he said he would consult with another doctor in another city. So he came back and said, okay, I agreed to wait. When I did finally see my specialist, maybe three or four days later, he came in and I had just showered and straightened my hair and had makeup on. I was sitting up in the bed and he was like, "You're the patient?" He was kind of surprised too with the numbers that he had seen, that I look so well. He said, "I heard they gave you a bit of a scare." I said, "Yeah, well, more so, my mom," but I was pretty calm throughout it all. He said, "Yeah, we're just going to start you on some oral medications. We wouldn't go to such a drastic step without trying other avenues first." Since I self-diagnosed myself, I knew that was one of the recommendations to not get pregnant, but up until seeing the specialist, I was maybe three weeks into a hospital stay, no one had actually, came out and said that to me. I just kept hoping, well, I'm sure that's the recommendation, but maybe it's not taken as seriously. But before I was released, my specialist and a representative from the medication company that I used, they came in and sat with me and went through a whole bunch of information. Finally, they brought up the topic of pregnancy and said that it was highly recommended that I don't ever get pregnant, because of the risks that it would pose for me and the baby. That was pretty devastating. It took me a long time to really let that sink in. But I knew wanting to be a mother and it didn't matter how it came about. I felt like my purpose of being here was being a mother, that was my ultimate goal in life. I just started researching other avenues. I considered surrogacy. A friend of mine said that she would be a surrogate. She had just had a baby herself, so she couldn't do it right away. But she said in a few years that would consider taking it on. But before we needed to go down that road, we adopted a baby girl. She brought so much joy and purpose to my life and I really don't know where I would be right now without her. Our adoption was actually a direct adoption, we'll call it. A friend of mine that had adopted from a territory in Canada. She adopted two little boys from there and she knew of a woman who was pregnant and was looking for someone to adopt her baby. She put us in contact with each other and when the birth mom approached her social worker, she named myself and my husband as the adoptive parents. The baby was never in foster care. It was a direct placement. We were named as the adoptive parents. We weren't on any lists for waiting. We didn't go through any adoption agency. I was diagnosed in May. In August, I had a conversation with my friend about my interest in adopting. In October, she messaged me and said she knew someone that was looking for someone to adopt her baby and my daughter was born in January. It wasn't really much of wait time. My diagnosis didn't have any bearings on if we were approved or denied. I did get a letter from my specialist, which wasn't even required. I just took it upon myself to get it just so there could be no questions and he just wrote a letter stating that my diagnosis wouldn't hinder me from raising the child. I submitted that to my social worker and there were no questions at all. A piece of advice that I would give someone who maybe would find themselves in a situation I was, I was only 27 years old, married, hoping to start a family and my dreams that were pretty much crushed, but I would just tell someone that it is not helpless. There're many other ways to start a family. Talk to your friends, talk to your family. See support groups or just groups of interests online. Anyone that can put you in contact with someone who has adopted before or who has used a surrogate, get their ideas and take their advice. See if there's someone that they can connect you with that can help you in your journey to start a family and just realize that there are many children in the world already that need loving homes. If you're willing to provide that for a child, then the love that you get in return is better than anything in the world. My name is Allison Wells, and I'm aware that I'm rare. Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Never miss an episode with the phaware® podcast app. Follow us @phaware on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube & Linkedin Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware #ClinicalTrials

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

[selfiecharmedlife]

RE: So How Does It Feel

           A friend of mine visited me on my third night in the hospital. As soon as my caretaker left the room, there was a pause in our conversation and she whispered to me “So...how does it feel?” At the time, I was under heavy drugs and couldn’t really give a solid answer. However, a few other people have asked me different flavors of the same question. I wanted really get down to unpacking my experience in the hospital and first days at home both to answer that question without protective irony and to maybe put another resource out there for anyone also contemplating a vaginoplasty.

           As I said in my prior entries, I was not sleeping well in the days leading up to my surgery and was a wreck of anxiety. I picked up my caregiver on Monday evening from the airport and took the next day off work. Prior to surgery, my surgeon requested that I go on a clear liquid diet and bowel cleanse. Before I drank the bottle of magnesium citrate that would glue me to the toilet for the rest of the day, I cried to my caregiver about my cold feet. My aunts (on my mom’s side) and my mom had been sending me passive aggressive texts about how much I was hurting my mother and how worried they were that I would have regrets. Their manipulations worked and I was terrified that I was making the wrong choice. Part of me wanted to run away. However, after I drank that awful lemony liquid, I couldn’t run very far from the bathroom. I was committed.

           Early the next morning, my caregiver and I walked to the train station. Along the way, I kept ruminating on the sinking feeling in my gut and how scarred I was of what the next few days would bring. After we got to the hospital and I got checked in, she pulled my head onto her shoulder and told me it was ok to be nervous and even more ok the cry. Right there, all the tears I had been choking down came pouring out as we sat in the waiting room. Even though her daughter had broken our engagement, she was still treating me like her family and I felt like I had a mother for the first time in years. Eventually, they called my name and I went up to the prep room. After signing some forms, talking to doctors and fainting after they put an epidural catheter in my back, they wheeled me off to the OR. I don’t remember much past that. I was joking with the surgical team to help with my anxiety and then I woke up a few hours later.

           I don’t even remember being moved from the recovery room to my own private room. I would later find out that I fainted again when the staff moved me to the hospital bed. As they nurses were scrambling to get me stable, they started referring to me with he/him pronouns. Apparently, I met this with something to the effect of “I just cut my dick off, can you please respect me enough to call me a woman.” Go low-blood pressure Morgan! As I came back to reality, there was a sign on my door saying “I identify as female” that my caregiver had made and a note of my diagnostic board requesting that anyone use she/her to refer to me. Tragically, this didn’t stop the misgendering by some of the staff. Being stuck in a hospital bed for days and dependent on someone that is deliberately disrespecting you like that is an awful experience that I would not wish on anyone. Even a week later, it still hurts and has undermined a lot of my confidence especially in my face. Beyond that, I mostly just slept and ate for the rest of the first day.

           The second and third days were difficult. I was stuck in a bed and unable to move or feel my right leg thanks to the epidural having been placed off-center. I shitposted on twitter to pass the time and watched a lot of dateline mysteries on my hospital TV in between naps. My lower body was mostly one big bruise which made rolling over or even sitting up incredibly painful. Sleeping was hard and the tight surgical dressing around my thighs and lower abdomen was itchy at first and gradually became saturated in my blood. I had to sit there and wait 48 hours until my surgeon could remove it so by the second night I was sitting in a heavy wet medical diaper saturated in my own fluids. It was disgusting and I felt sick every time I moved. The relief I felt when it came off was short-lived because that was also the first time I would see my vagina. It just looked like a big bloody sore where my penis had been. It was swollen and covered in dried blood. I didn’t even call it my vagina during my stay in the hospital. I kept referring to it as “the surgical site.” When my surgeon left after the visit, I cried alone in my room.

           The next major step before being discharged was walking again. On the third day, a doctor removed my epidural and the nurses helped me up once I had feeling in my legs. The pain was excruciating, but I wanted to be out of that hospital so bad. I managed to waddle past the nurse’s station outside my room before my blood pressure crashed (for those of you keeping score, this makes three times) and I was rushed back to my room. I’m a very fit person with a low resting blood pressure. I also lost a lot of blood during the procedure, so I was a fragile maiden there for a few days. My catheter was removed around midnight that night and I had the big girl job of learning to pee again. It was a weird and painful sensation with more blood than urine. Unfortunately, the amount of packing in my vagina eventually put pressure on my urethra and I was unable to pee normally after that first time. I ended up sitting on the hard-plastic toilet next to my bed in tears because a nurse had left me there and I was both afraid to stand on my own and unable to pee. I felt like a disaster of a human and had to be re-catheterized when the backed-up urine in my bladder became too painful.

           I was eventually able to walk with assistance and that was enough for me to get sent home on the Saturday following my procedure. My caregiver and I climbed into a lyft and headed back home. The next two days were miserable. I spent a lot of time struggling find comfortable ways to sit, bleeding through my clothes, almost fainting again and crying. There was a moment where I was struggling in the shower and almost accepted that my aunts were right.

           It did get much better though. On Monday morning, I had my first post-op appointment. Again, I almost fainted on the drive there because my body screamed in pain whenever the driver took a turn on Rock Creek Parkway. There are a lot of twists and turns on Rock Creek Parkwat. I got into the stir-ups and probed my surgeon and his PA for feedback on how I was doing and told them how awful I felt. After they took out the packing and went over the process of dilating, they left me in the room. I cried in the stirrups before I cried even more while getting dressed. Something had changed though, standing didn’t hurt as much anymore. They had been able to get so much width and depth out of me that the amount of packing in my vagina was adding a lot of pressure. For reference, I am able to get to the second to last dot on the biggest dilator which is apparently much wider and deeper than the average cis woman’s vagina. From that point on, every day has been a massive step forward. I went from being unable to leave the house, to walking assisted, to walking unassisted for short walks, to being able to now walk almost normally.

           To answer the question “how does it feel.” If feels flat and that’s wonderful. Every day since I’ve had the packing removed and started dilating has been better than the last. As much as I was dreading the weird alien-looking medical dildos that are now with me for life, having to take time to feel my vagina and stretch things out has helped a lot both mentally and physically. It feels like part of me now and I love it. As the swelling has gone down, I can imagine how it’s going to look and seeing myself in the mirror without a bulge gives me the biggest rush of dopamine. I’ve been smiling for days now even though my abdomen is still a big bruise and I have some significant discomfort. Still, I’m way ahead of where I was told I would be mostly thanks to my level of fitness prior to the surgery. Yes, having low-resting blood pressure did cause me to faint a lot, but having low body fat also meant that there was less tissue to cut during the procedure. As of one-week post-op, I’ve been able to move around well enough to restart HRT and re-feminize my face and figure after the three weeks of discontinuation was starting to show. My pain is also manageable with just Tylenol and I’ve been able to avoid oxycodone.

There is still a lot of work left to do, but I’m *so* glad I did this. For all the pain and all the anxiety, I feel like me right now. I have a vagina now and I really love her a lot even if she’s kinda gross sometimes. I’m looking forward to getting to know each other better and whatever adventures we’re going to have.

[smilystore]

This Is What Activism Does To Your Body

Five years ago, Ferguson protesters changed the world. But it came at a cost to their mental and physical health.

August 9 marks five years since a white police officer, Darren Wilson, shot and killed an unarmed Black teenager named Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri. While accounts of exactly what happened vary, Wilson, shot Brown at least six times ― twice in the head. Brown’s bloody body was left on a residential street for four hours in broad daylight.

Weeks of demonstrations, vigils, and protests followed. These protests eventually turned into riots with militarized police officers on one side and fed-up Black residents on another. We then saw a conversation on race that rippled internationally and launched a movement for Black lives that continues today.

“Back in 2014, I was an elected official, I was an alderman in St. Louis City. My district office was right down the road from where Mike Brown was killed,” Antonio French, now a 40-year-old former alderman and current social entrepreneur, told HuffPost. “[Brown’s] body was on the ground when I arrived and I stayed out there for the better part of two months.”

He said, “I had no idea nor did anybody that it was going to get as big as it did or last as long as it did. The level of escalation on the part of law enforcement, we hadn’t seen anything like that.”

Peaceful demonstrations turned violent when police officers descended on the city dressed in camouflage, riot gear, Kevlar vests and gas masks. Officers were armed with military vehicles, rifles, tear gas, rubber bullets, real bullets, and flash-bang grenades. Within a matter of days, the Missouri governor declared a state of emergency, a curfew was set, and the Missouri National Guard was deployed. During those late summer days, dozens of protesters were arrested and jailed.

Then the second wave of protests and unrest hit in November after a grand jury chose not to indict the police officer responsible for Brown’s death.

“I dealt with it day and night, all of the tear gas, all of the demonstrations, all of the late-night activity, even when it got violent and dangerous and destructive,” French said. “I found myself standing between property and looters, trying to keep things calm, trying to stand between police and angry crowds. I was arrested, I spent nights in jail. It was a very busy time.”

“The shit is traumatic,” recalled Johnetta Elzie, a now 30-year-old protester and writer. “At 25, I had to ask myself if [I was] OK with dying. Because there were so many instances where it was like, OK, we might not make it out of this motherfucker tonight. You’re constantly living in fear. And what kind of effect does this have on someone dealing with this all the time?”

It’s a valid question. That level of harrowing activism and exposure to violence can take a serious toll on the bodies and minds of protesters.

What happens to a human being during an event like Ferguson? The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, describes trauma as exposure to or experiencing the threat of death, serious injury or violence. It can occur when someone directly undergoes a traumatic event, witnesses it or learns of it.

“To be exposed to what we would call community violence, and then have the police basically take a military stance in the community, is absolutely a traumatic experience,” said Tammy Lewis Wilborn, a board-certified professional counselor and the owner and chief clinical officer of Wilborn Clinical Services in New Orleans.

Jennifer Sumner, a clinical psychologist and associate professor of psychology at the University of California, Los Angeles, added that experiencing the type of trauma that unfolded in Ferguson can also threaten a person’s sense of security.

“Being exposed to that kind of violence in your neighborhood would lead to people feeling very unsafe,” she said. “You’re protesting and you’re seeing people being attacked by police and other kinds of violence. That’s something we’d call an index trauma and that can trigger PTSD.”

And you don’t necessarily have to be present during the event to experience symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

“We know that exposure to images of traumatic events, particularly through television or the internet, can trigger symptoms of PTSD,” said Sarah Lowe, a clinical psychologist and associate professor of social and behavioral sciences at Yale’s School of Public Health. “Other [medical professionals] have argued for an expanded definition that includes things like experiences of discrimination, microaggression, racism, sexism, homophobia, etc.”

Your body and brain are affected long after the initial trauma. Exposure to trauma like police and community violence, racial discrimination and disenfranchisement, microaggression and constant images of destruction on the news can come with some serious sometimes life-threatening bodily repercussions.

“Quite a large body of evidence suggests that both trauma exposure and PTSD are associated with developing a wide range of physical health disorders down the line,” Sumner said. “Chronic diseases of aging like cardiovascular diseases, like having a heart attack, having a stroke. Developing blood clots in your veins. All of these are associated with trauma and PTSD. [People are at risk for] developing diabetes, even dementia down the line.”

Activists’ physical health is also at risk in the near term.

“Now you’re out on the battlefield, and now we’re starting to see long-term things like migraines, high blood pressure, sleep disruption,” Wilborn said. “Particularly if people have seen certain things, they may be having flashbacks of certain experiences. Some people may have the startling response they’re shaking, they’re jumpy, they’re not calm in their body.”

Protesters in Ferguson faced the constant threat of tear gas, which can cause severe burning in the eyes and difficulty breathing and even internal bleeding and fractures if a person is hit by the canisters.

Prolonged exposure to such violence can have long-term effects on the psyche as well.

“Someone who is very much affected by [the violence we saw in Ferguson] for three entire weeks or several months, you’re in a state that’s almost akin to a war zone,” Lowe said. “We know that people who experience that kind of trauma are at greater risk for depression, anxiety, suicidality, substance use, relationship problems, financial stressors.”

Elzie and French experienced a number of these health issues themselves.

“It was definitely a very stressful time,” French said. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep. You quickly become a target for people on Twitter, racists, people making death threats. I must have gotten two dozen death threats during that period. During Ferguson, I lost a lot of weight, and afterward, I gained weight. Before Ferguson, I did not have gray hair in my beard, but you look at me three months after Ferguson, it’s like, holy shit! Did I age, like, five years in three months?”

Elzie said the vitriol, in particular, that she faced in response to her activism made it difficult to take care of her mental and physical well-being.

“I was ripping and running, traveling and marching and speaking during all this time. [It] was way more taxing on my body than I thought it would be,” she said. “All that shit adds up. I had very high anxiety. [My doctor] was like you’ve got to make a change because you will have a health risk if you keep going at the pace that you are.”

Of course, the Black experience in America has long been fraught with trauma and physical and psychological violence. Black people and other people of color can feel the effects of mental and physical trauma without ever having been on the front lines of a protest.

“Here’s the thing: There’s this shared collective history with Black people called slavery. And now we understand slavery as a generational trauma,” Wilborn said. “That experience not only left an imprint in terms of social, political, cultural, financial and physical history, but it also left an imprint of trauma in the physiology and psychology of Black people.”

“After you turn off your activism let’s pretend that happens you’re still Black,” Wilborn continued. “You still have to deal with your own lived experience of the trauma that comes from your navigating life as a Black person in America. You don’t get to turn it off.”

The same systemic racism that can lead to trauma can also be a barrier to healing. There are very few mental health care providers of color, and Black people face many other cultural and financial roadblocks to getting proper treatment.

“When we go into these [medical] spaces to be helped, that help is presented with bias and prejudice. … Therefore we’re not always getting the right exams, we’re not getting asked the right questions. We can’t always afford the treatment that we need. It becomes this perpetual cycle of trauma,” Wilborn said.

Black lives and minds matter.

Since Brown’s death, many more Black men, women, and children have been killed by police or died in police custody, including Eric Garner, Freddie Gray, Philando Castile, Tamir Rice, and Sandra Bland.

Though Ferguson has dropped out of the national headlines, violence, death, and racism continue to plague the city. In the five years since the unrest, at least six men connected to the protests have died, two from alleged suicide and all under suspicious circumstances that only add to the racial tension there.

Despite the risks to their physical and emotional health, French, Elzie and many other Ferguson protesters are continuing the work they started. Elzie, along with fellow Ferguson protester and Baltimore native DeRay Mckesson, launched a nonviolent civil rights campaign called This Is The Movement. French started publishing two online newspapers focusing on community life in St. Louis. Other Ferguson protesters have gone into public service or become involved in Black Lives Matter demonstrations across the country.

“Even with these health consequences, we can see the benefits of taking a stand because people are fighting for what they believe in and protecting people’s lives,” Sumner said. “I don’t think the answer is to stop altogether. It speaks to how critical it is to engage in self-care. As much fervor as you bring to the causes, you need to bring the same level of fervor to caring for yourself.

Just last month, Missouri state Rep. Bruce Franks Jr. an activist and a protester during the Ferguson unrest announced that he’d be stepping down from the legislature to deal with his anxiety and depression.

Elzie and French have taken steps to care for their mental health in the years after Ferguson as well.

“I’ve started reaching out and actually going to therapy. That was very helpful,” Elzie said. “I’ve deleted Twitter and Facebook. I have limits as far as the things that trigger me and trigger my mental health. I love being with my friends, I love good wine. I’m just trying to relax.”

For his part, French has taken some time to step back from public service.

“This is a very long fight that we’re getting into,” he said. “You have to pace yourself, take some time off, take a little vacation if you need if you’re in this for a very long time. It’s just like a marathon. You’ve got to take your time, take care of your body, your health and all of that.”

The experts similarly stress the importance of looking after your body and brain and taking a break from working hard for the cause when you need it. That doesn’t make you any less of an activist.

“The struggle will continue whether you’re involved or not, but we also know while you are out there protesting that Black lives matter, you should also prioritize your life. Your life matters,” Wilborn said.

“You need to make sure that you put your own oxygen mask on first. If you’re not being good to yourself, you’re certainly not good to the community because we still need you. We need you in our families, we need you at work, we need you in relationships. If you die [from trauma and stress], where is the justice in that?

By Jolie A. Doggett

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