#low-key starting fires is kinda therapeutic

[trans-librarian]

Call me a pyro main because I am flaming. Also I start fires for fun.

[madmeridian]

hm, idk if this is exactly wild, but maybe an atla au?? for meronia??

ahahahahaha okay i was so fucking excited about this i accidentally wrote a 1,900ish word fic... oops. i hope you like it! i kinda just made it in the atla universe and not like a direct fusion bc i got this idea for it. also italics are flashbacks and non italics are present day! okay pls enjoy 

“Near? I’m heading out for work.” 

There was no response for a second and Mello nearly thought that Near wasn’t going to respond, but he rounded the corner just as Mello took a half-step out the door. The restless night had left Near exhausted and Mello hoped he’d at least go back to sleep after. 

“I’ll see you when you get home,” Near murmured, not quite looking at him. 

“Take it easy today.” Mello held his arms out, inviting, and Near stepped into them without hesitation. 

“I can’t,” Near said. Mello could practically hear the grimace in his voice. “I have orders to fill.” 

Near hadn’t been particularly interested in any of the work Ba Sing Se had to offer, considering most of it was either customer service or construction work. But people in the Middle Ring, as well as a few from the Upper Ring, had taken a liking to his craftwork, so he’d started his own little business. 

“At least get a nap in.” Mello kissed Near’s forehead. “Promise me.” 

“I’ll try,” was all Near offered before he walked away, leaving Mello in the doorway alone. 

The streets of the city were busy, as they usually were in the mornings, especially where they lived. Mello walked through them silently. The people who had come to know him greeted him cheerfully and asked after Near. 

When they’d first met him, Mello had been cold to them, suspicious. After all, he didn’t want them to know that there were two fugitives in their midst and he couldn’t give anything away. If they were found, they were dead. 

Though they were still on edge, Mello and Near had warmed up to the people, mainly after discovering they were mostly harmless. Not to mention, they hadn’t seen their own pictures in any of the wanted signs around Ba Sing Se. 

“Get some more sleep, you looked exhausted,” one of their neighbors called to him jokingly. Mello feigned a smile and nodded. Near had been struggling with nightmares since they’d arrived at Ba Sing Se and as long as he wasn’t sleeping, Mello wasn’t either. He couldn’t let him suffer alone, not when it was partially his fault. 

-----

Mello was certainly not a fan of the freezing temperatures, cold wind whipping against his face. Similarly, his fellow Fire Nation soldiers shivered and groaned, though all of them fell silent when their commander walked past. 

The Southern Water Tribe, diminished as it was, still had capable waterbenders, and it was their mission to capture or kill them. Mello had been on plenty of raids before, but never to either of the water tribes. He was interested to see how well they would fare against the Fire Nation. 

Judging by the mass scrambling that was going on when the ship came close enough to the Tribe, it didn’t seem like things were going to go all that well for them. 

Mello ignored the feeling of guilt that was creating a pit in his stomach. Part of him had always abhorred the raids, the pain they brought on others, but he was a soldier and pity had no place in him.

Screams began to rise up when the ship finally docked and a flood of soldiers descended on the Tribe. 

-----

Mello shook the memory away and focused on what he was doing. None of the retail jobs would hire him, apparently because he was too intimidating to work with anyone, so he’d settled for construction. Though, he would have to admit, there was something therapeutic about hammering a nail into place. 

“Hey, come eat lunch with us,” one of the other workers called to him. “It’s break time, man.” 

 Part of him wanted to tell them to fuck off and leave him alone. But, that wouldn’t bode well for his job, nor for blending in. Things weren’t the same in Ba Sing Se as he was used to. Adapting had taken some getting used to, but he’d gotten good at being less rude. 

“Sure thing,” Mello said, plastering on a fake, polite face. “Just give me a few minutes to finish this up.” 

The others nodded, smiling at him with approval. Whether or not they liked him wasn’t really a concern of his, but it was smart to stay on their good side. Blend in. 

The last thing he needed was to get on someone’s bad side and get ratted out because of it. 

-----

“Please,” the white-haired man had said, holding out his hands. “I’ll tell you where the waterbenders are if you let them go.” The children in the corner cowered away from Mello, from his flaming hand, and the other that held a sword. 

“If you’re lying, I’ll kill you,” Mello sneered. Still, he waved the kids out. They ran, crying and yelling. The pit in his stomach made itself known again. “So, where are they?” 

“I don’t know where the others are,” the man began, “but I’m one. I only didn’t tell you because I’d thought you’d kill them.” To prove his point, he directed an arc of water in the air. Mello grabbed his arm and dragged him out. 

“That’s all I need to know,” he said through gritted teeth, wishing that the man hadn’t just given himself up like that. He’d seen the prisons and knew what happened to waterbenders. The guy would be executed or kept in a cage. 

Either way, his end would be miserable. 

-----

“You’re home late,” Near noted. Mello grunted and flopped down in a kitchen chair. 

“I got kept up by my coworkers,” he said, watching as Near poured him a cup of tea. “They’re a talkative bunch and I’m trying not to be rude to them.” 

“You, trying not to be rude?” Near asked, raising an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done to my Mello?”

“Oh shut up,” Mello huffed. “I’d imagine if they liked me, they wouldn’t report me if they saw my face on a wanted poster.”

“That’s smart.” Near gave him the tiniest bit of a smirk. “And maybe if you’re less mean you’ll actually be able to get a job at a shop instead.”

“Please, as if you’d be able to. You’re just as bad as I am.” 

“Hardly. Now come on, you promised me a game of Pai Sho.” 

-----

“You’re telling me, out of all of you, only one waterbender was captured,” the commander shouted. “One! It’s pathetic. It’s a fucking disgrace. Keehl, you’re excused for now. Go guard your prisoner. The rest of you will stay here.” 

Mello was more than happy to escape the scene, the commander’s anger boiling in the air. It was all luck that he was the only one to have caught a waterbender. 

Said waterbender watched him with wide gray eyes as he approached the cell. He didn’t seem at all fazed by his capture, nor his captor standing in front of him. 

Mello turned his back once he got to the cell, standing there as he’d been taught, straight back and searching eyes. 

“My name is Near,” the prisoner spoke up. Some were more talkative and some didn’t try. Mello hated the talkative ones. He was always sad to see them go. “I think you should at least tell me yours.” 

“And why’s that?” Mello asked quietly. 

“So when I go to prison, I can tell everyone about the man who caught me, in case one of them escapes and finds you one day. So they can get revenge for me,” Near said dryly. 

“Very convincing.” Mello paused, before looking down at the man for a brief second. “It’s Mello.”

“Did you do that to yourself or was that someone else?” Near pointed to Mello’s scar. “It looks like it hurt a lot when it happened.”

“Someone else,” Mello said gruffly. “And yeah, it hurt.” 

“I appreciate you not doing it to me.” Near offered quietly, “you don’t seem very evil. I thought you’d be much harder to talk to.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.” 

-----

“I win, again,” Near said smugly. Mello crossed his arms, glowering. 

“I’m almost certain that the only reason you ask to play this is solely to piss me off.” 

“Then you’re wrong. I play with you because you’re the only one who gets close enough to beat me. Mind you, you have won a few times.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know that. I fucking hate losing though and you know that,” Mello grumbled. Then he yawned, stretching. “I’m exhausted.” 

Near was quiet for a moment, looking at Mello blankly, then frowning. 

“You shouldn’t have stayed up with me last night. You need sleep.” 

“You need sleep too and you fall back asleep better when I’m up too,” Mello argued. “Not to mention, it’s my fault. I’m gonna keep staying up with you.” 

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Near shot back, crossing his arms. 

“Come on, let’s just get some sleep,” Mello said, getting up and heading to the bedroom.

-----

The commander had made a huge mistake. He’d constantly put Mello on guard duty for Near, since the rest of the soldiers were doing grunt work they normally wouldn’t as punishment. 

And Mello had gotten… attached. More so than he usually did with prisoners. 

So, on his next shift, he’d carefully snuck the keys to the cell away. When he got to the cell, he crouched down low. Near tipped his head in curiosity. He’d smiled a bit, but his face was much more thin and gaunt than it had been. 

It made Mello’s heart ache in a way he didn’t quite understand. 

“You don’t have family in your tribe, right?” Mello already knew the answer, from their talks, but had to make sure.

“I told you I was an orphan,” Near said, a little crease forming between his brows. “Why?” 

“How do you feel about Ba Sing Se?” Mello whispered, holding out the keys. Near leaned forwards, grabbing the bars. A twist of disbelief and relief made his eyes widen. 

“Can we get off safely?” Near asked, one hand trembling, reaching out. 

“We dock in an hour and I know every inch of this ship. They won’t know we’re gone until my shift is over. Three hours after we’ll leave here.” 

Four hours later, the alarm bells sounded on the ship for their escaped prisoner. Neither Mello or Near were there to hear it. They were on their way to Ba Sing Se.

To freedom. 

-----

Mello had never been Near’s night guard, but he’d never heard anything about him having nightmares from the man who was. He’s not sure the man would’ve been able to tell. Mello is a light sleeper, luckily, so when Near starts to gasp and whimper, he wakes immediately. 

It happens like clockwork. Near has a nightmare, Mello wakes up, then Near does too, and then they sit there. Mello just waits for Near to calm and talk to him. Near’s told him several times that’s all he needs to do, is just give him a minute, and Mello is glad to. 

Near’s nightmares vary. Sometimes it’s the raid, playing over again in his head, his people’s blood staining the snow of his home. Other times, it’s on the ship, and Mello dies. They aren’t free and Near is sent to his grave too. And sometimes it’s incomprehensible, just horrors over and over.

Mello waits for Near to talk, smoothing his unruly hair back and holding him close. 

“I’m sorry,” Near whispers. He always says that, and Mello always says the same thing back. 

“Nothing to be sorry about, Near.” 

Near is quiet for another moment, leaning against Mello’s side and blinking slowly in the moonlight. His eyes almost look silver and Mello has to sort of bite his tongue to compliment them because he’s not sure it’s the best time to flirt. 

“Thank you for staying up with me,” Near says slowly. “I know I said you shouldn’t but… it helps.” 

“It’s what I’m here for. We’re in this together, Near.” Mello kisses Near’s forehead and hugs him tight. 

Mello sees the tiny smile Near tries to hide and smiles too, genuine for what felt like the first time that day.

[toolongdidntreid]

Sins of the Father - Ch 2 (Criminal Minds Fanfic)

Previous chapters: (1)

Chapter Two: “Cat and Mouse” - Alisa Belov tags along with the team as they head to Arizona to chase a new lead, continuing her work as a consultant. They are confronted with an opportunity to catch one of the Sinners in person.

WARNINGS: None

–

The SIE didn’t have a jet. And after the first ride to Arizona, Alisa thought that she would never be able to go back. Even with access to first class, it was beyond therapeutic to be one in only a few people in the plane. No babies screaming, no people sitting too close.

She was thinking about the jet ride when Hotch pulled her from her thoughts and she straightened. The van went over a bump and her grip tightened on the bag on her lap.

“I thought you might want to know that we’re coming up on the hotel,” he told her. She looked up at him, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes and nodding. It was hard not to notice the way that Hotch looked at her—subdued, but calculated, taking in every bit of information. He looked at everyone that way. It was hard to believe that he was able to turn it off, sometimes. He seemed like he was always worrying about something.

Her gaze shifted to the window, where the grey, monotonous structures of Tuscon City were whipping by. Before this it had just been flat and dry for as far as the eye could see. She almost preferred that.

The mission was simple: Once the team had triangulated the Sinner’s location in Tuscon, it was a simple matter of cornering them quietly and peacefully. It was a long shot, but fragments of credit card transactions and cell phone pings had led them to believe that this Sinner would be at the Desert Diamond, a casino in the city. The unsub also used the alias Silencer. From the sparse profile the team had pulled together, it was known that they liked to party.

True, the odds were not balanced. But the Silencer was also one of the more careless Sinners. They left paper trails and their signature was a bold statement: a red rose in the mouth of their victims. The Silencer liked games. And Alisa was good with games. Mind games, at least. She hadn’t ever had much luck at casinos.

She had heard Dr. Reid was quite good at them, however. It would probably come in handy. That asset, long with many others, were just a few of the bright ideas that Alisa had stored away. She liked to have a plan for every letter of the alphabet.

The sun baked the hotel parking lot as the vans finally pulled up and the purr of the engines stopped. Grabbing her bag from the floor, Alisa opened the door and stepped out. A hot breeze swept down the lot, stirring up the smell of asphalt. She shrugged, trying to readjust her sweaty shirt as she looked around.

“We’ll meet up with local PD tomorrow,” Hotch said as the team congregated. “Agent Belov will brief you all on our upcoming casino operation and we’ll set up surveillance. For now, you all get some rest and we’ll meet back up first thing tomorrow.”

Silently the team disbanded and Alisa took a long breath, suddenly feeling very overheated. Her mind was suddenly flooded with the sheer number of things she had to do, and organize, and plan…

Sometimes she thought that everyone forgot she had only just turned 30. It wasn’t as if experience was a prominent item on her assets list. True, she had persisted that she was capable of responsibility but being out on the field was different than sitting in an office watching surveillance footage.

She shouldered her bag and walked into the hotel, suddenly feeling too hot to stand in the sun any longer.

The hotel inside was nice, and spacious—and most importantly, air conditioned. Alisa saw Hotch speaking with the concierge so she went to go sit down until they got their room keys. She found the sitting room and chose a chair, letting out a long sigh.

For a moment she watched the news on flatscreen tv, though she didn’t have enough energy to focus on the quick English.

“Can I sit?”

She glanced up, seeing an unfamiliar woman smiling at her. She had dark hair and stern features, but she seemed like a kind person.

“Emily Prentiss,” the woman quickly introduced, sitting down. “I’ve been here a couple days, I came ahead to coordinate with the local PD, I uh, I was nearby anyway. I do a lot of traveling nowadays.” She paused. “You must be the consultant from SIE?”

“Yes.” Alisa firmly shook Prentiss’ hand, offering a weary smile. “You are the first person to call me what I really am. I hope I can help this team in the way that it needs.”

“Considering only the best get into SIE, I’m sure you will exceed all expectations,” Agent Prentiss assured her. “How long have you been working there?”

“Only a year,” Alisa said. “They did not want me at first but I am very close with one of the board and they pushed for me. I am glad for the job, but still very new.”

Prentiss nodded. “That’s still impressive,” she said. “You sound kind of like our resident genius, you know. He couldn’t do a pushup to save his life but his brain is like a computer.” She glanced around the hotel lobby, finally gesturing to Dr. Reid who was standing near Hotch. “He’s great. Kinda like how a puppy is great.”

“He is very quiet,” Alisa noted. “Unless is he telling facts. But they are interesting.”

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Yeah, he tends to keep to himself. He’s a damn good agent, though.” Prentiss glanced over at Alisa, who had nearly zoned out watching the news again. “You okay?” the agent asked tentatively.

Alisa glanced up. “I am fine,” she said. She offered a smile but even she knew it didn’t take a profiler to know it had taken effort.

~ ~ ~

“Thank you all,” Alisa started, straightening as she surveyed the large gathering of agents and officers in front of her. The Tuscon police department was large, and roomy, and far too cold. Most of the local police lounged in the back, along with Agent Prentiss, Rossi, and Hotchner who were observing from the back wall. The other three BAU agents were sitting near the front, probably for moral support. She hoped they couldn’t see how nervous she was.

“As you know, I am an agent with the SIE,” she continued. “I work in espionage and surveillance, sometimes international. Today I am here to coordinate a stakeout to find the Sinner known as the Silencer.”

She took a deep breath, greeted with only expectant silence from her audience.

“Our information tells us that the Silencer will most likely attend the event at the Desert Diamond casino tomorrow night. After studying the area, I have decided to assign three agents inside as well as two maintaining the outside surveillance. The TPD will manage the perimeter and keep civilians away from the outside of the casino. Because this is a matter of national security, the FBI will manage the unsub and the local PD will not engage.”

Another deep breath.

“Recently, we have known that the Silencer is a gambler and likes to party. Because of this, they are likely a woman. It seems that her game is seduction and risk-taking. She likes to feel the pleasure of her victories. The agents inside the casino will socialize and record everything on small hidden cameras. The surveillance teams will look at this information and try to find the Silencer from there. We are looking for a beautiful woman who plays lots of games.” She hesitated. “So far, we do not have reason to believe that the Silencer will harm anyone. We think that she is still in hiding. But we must be prepared. That is why the TPD will keep the outside of the casino clear, in case of surprises.”

“Surprises like what?” an officer asked.

Alisa shrugged. “It is hard to tell. The Silencer will not reveal themselves on purpose, but if they discover they are being watched they might start shooting, or worse. The Sinners are known to have failsafes. It could be as big as a bioweapon or a bomb, or as simple as firing at officers.”

“Shouldn’t we have more security then?” another officer chimed in with reasonable concern. “If this really is that dangerous?”

Alisa shook her head, feeling her chest tense as she tried to find the words to say. “It is not a good plan to go heavy on security,” she said. “The more there is, the more obvious it is that we are looking for the Silencer. Our best chance of success is a low profile.”

The officer scoffed. He looked angry as he shifted in his seat. “Unless something simple happens, like she fires at an officer.”

“I would like to say that I have studied this subject and helped in many successful operations,” Alisa told him. She tried to keep her voice as calming and even as possible, despite her growing anxiety. She was suddenly aware of how many people were looking at her. “Trust me when I say that the best way to make sure there are no casualties is if we keep a low profile.”

“Many successful operations?” the officer challenged. “How old are you anyway?”

Hotch suddenly pushed off the wall in the back of the room, crossing his arms. “Unless you have questions pertinent to the case, please keep quiet,” he said loudly, loud enough for everyone to hear. The officer looked over his shoulder at Hotch, giving an incredulous dry laugh  before he went silent. He seemed annoyed. Alisa didn’t want that tension.

She blinked hard, her head suddenly feeling very warm. She didn’t want to succumb to these nerves—when she was nervous, she forgot her English, and that only made her more tense.

“I am younger than most,” she finally said. Her voice shook just a little, but it was stronger enough to fill the whole room. “But, when I trained in Russia at a young age, I was much smarter than most. I came to the position I have today because I have skill and I worked hard. I know what I am talking about.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, lingering. Then another officer spoke up. His tone was less confrontational. “What if the Silencer already knows that we’re onto them?” he asked.

“That is not likely,” Alisa assured. “There have been many steps taken to prevent that. This information that the Silencer is in Tuscon is also very new to us. We believe that if they are here, they do not know that we know about them.”

“And that’s supposed to make us feel better?” someone asked.

Alisa’s previous frustration jumped inside of her but she forced it down. “There is a risk involved,” she said. “That is why our agents will be handling it and the local PD will not.” She gave a short nod to the audience. “Thank you.”

[maxihealth]

My ABCovid Journal – Day 1 of 5, A through E

My friends…

It’s time in this pandemic journey that I take a full week to re-charge and bask in the midst of nature, a lake, farm-to-table food, wine-making, and the love of and therapeutic time with my wonderful husband.

My gift to you all this week, 10th – 14th August, is to share with you pages from my “ABCovid Journal” that I created/curated in the first weeks of the coronavirus pandemic. We all have our hacks for managing stress and discomfort, and in the first weeks of COVID-19, this was my life-saver. Journaling is one of my self-care strategies; think of it as my art-therapy.

This week I share the entire “ABCovid Journal” pages with you, a few a day, from “A” for “Amazon” to “Z” for “Zoom.”

Please let me know your faves. I’ll tell you mind next week when I return….and make you guess in the meantime.

Welcome to ABCovid…my personal A to Z in the Age of the Coronavirus…

“A” is for Amazon. Also “abundance,” depending on your point of view and how good you’ve been at cognitive therapy with your self in the pandemic.

To compose this page, I found the perfect journaling card reading, “It’s an ‘add to cart’ kinda day;” some shopping and grocery/food ephemera; and, a photo I snapped of an empty shelf at Costco that had once stored rolls of bathroom tissue and paper towels – highly sought commodities in the first weeks of the pandemic.

This page channeled my early read of Nielsen’s data on how consumers globally were building their “pandemic pantries,” in search of hygiene,  health products, and shelf-stable foods.

Hoarding behaviors were emerging the world over, with bathroom tissue symbolizing that consumer ethos (stay tuned to the “T” page, later this week).

I particularly like the sticker, “Shopping is my cardio.”

This page represented the shopping obsessions at the base of our Maslow Hierarchies pressed down to the basics during our COVID-19 lives.

“B” is for bats.

In gleaning scientific journals published early in 2020, we read about the possible animal-to-human connection of the coronavirus.

On this letter-page, I marry the bats theme with Halloween fright images from an old scrapbook craft stash. I especially love the “Kiss of the Vampire” journaling card which came off of a piece of Halloween “Trick or Treat” paper from Echo Park, and the running child in the sheet and pillowcase ghost costume.

I had bat-themed Washi tape to use as a trim which was leftover from Halloween cards I made one year for my daughter and friends.

The image at the left was printed from an exhibit published in late March in the Journal of Proteome Research, a peer-reviewed publication of the American Chemical Society. The paper discussed a “missing link” in the coronavirus “jump” from bats to humans that could be pangolins, not snakes. We must live evidence-based lives, so this as well as other images in the ABCovid-19 book come out of science and economic research journals.

“C” is for crown.

The shape of the coronavirus under microscope features spikes resembling the details on a crown. Thus, “corona.”

Here, I curated a sticker of Queen Elizabeth from the great Cavallini line of papers and cards; some ephemera collecting through the years; and, an Instagram-sized printout of an article from TIME magazine explaining that a conference featuring an update on the coronavirus was cancelled because of the coronavirus.

That early conference cancellation was a hint of more meeting postponements to come.

I found this great piece of scrapbook paper, a crown with wings, in a pile of papers I’ve saved over the years. Speaking of hoarding, if one does so as I do with paper and stickers, it’s good to be organized: I knew exactly where to find this piece of paper.

#Obsessed with my #arttherapy.

“D” is for depression.

Here, I married two definitions of this “d” word: our mental health merged with our financial health.

Early on in the #GreatLockdown, my economics spidey-senses forecasted both meanings in my crystal ball.

The “lower than a sausage dog having a lie down” is actually one of those hotel key card envelopes you receive at check-in which I saved, knowing I could eventually use it for a crafting project.

The red alphabet stickers on the left spelling out “depression” come from Cavallini; they are replicas of an old French postage stamp.

The picture at left illustrates the International Monetary Fund global projections for economic growth, or decline, for the next couple of years. The dramatic decline in green is this year’s negative hit on the world’s economy.

I added some phrase stickers that seemed ironically appropriate: “life is messy,” “you are enough,” and “freaking out over here.” Then, “happy hour!” on the “lower than a sausage” envelope felt right in the moment of putting this together.

“E” is for Europe.

This is a very simple page featuring a map, which has been in the front of my mind from the start of the pandemic.

I am a citizen of the EU in addition to being a citizen of the U.S. My husband and I split time in Europe, he there more than me in 2019-20…and at the start of the pandemic, he was in Brussels pretty much full time for some months….

On March 18th, I heard Laurie Garrett, Author of The Coming Plague for which she won the Pulitzer Prize, say the following: “for the coming months, you must ask yourself two questions: ‘Where do I want to be?” and “Who do you want to be with?”

I stayed up much of the night anxiously waiting for 2 am to strike, then phoned my husband in Belgium and asked him to get on a plane back to the U.S. ASAP.

He flew home on 20th March and has hunkered down with me ever since.

Now, we are on a true vacation, renting a lake side home in New York State, just the two of us, living a farm-to-table life, fresh food from local farmers to slow-cook and enjoy, feeling blessed, so blessed, to be able to take this week #AloneTogether.

Last night, we lit a fire in the fire pit, scout-style from our childhoods, and made S’mores with the classic ingredients.

We are low down on our Maslow Hierarchies, feeling safe in the moment, satiated with good food, healthy, and grateful.

Tomorrow, we’ll visit letters “F” through “J.” Spoiler alert: you’ll see what I curated about Dr. Fauci, gloves, hand-washing, Italy, and Boris “J”ohnson.

Stay well, stay strong, stay joyful…

The post My ABCovid Journal – Day 1 of 5, A through E appeared first on HealthPopuli.com.

My ABCovid Journal – Day 1 of 5, A through E posted first on https://carilloncitydental.blogspot.com

[kaladin-sadblessed]

Prime numbers and any multiples of five :)

Why would you give me maths but also thank you!

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Back when I was doing my A-levels we used to spend most of chemistry talking about shit like this with our teacher and it used to low-key fuck me up (he also once told me not to panic before an exam bc the universe doesn’t really exist so who cares if I fail and to be fair it calmed me down a lot, what a guy). Like, when you sit and think about how everyone is just as complex as you that’s messed up and scary and really hard to wrap your head around, but so is solipcism (sp???) as a concept. I just try to not think about these things and then we’re all good lmao. 

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Idk what this means. Arlene Foster, I guess.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

Idk man, I’d be like an apple tree or some shit

7. What shirt are you wearing?

One of my many dinosaur print items of clothing, its grey and has green, blue and red dinosaurs with goof facial expressions and it’s one of my favourite tshirts.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Watching fight club with the boys, which was super gratifying bc my friend Matt didn’t know what the twist was and that was gr8910 to witness

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

I quite like being 20, it’s working out quite well for me.

13. Your worst enemy?

My lack of work ethic when it comes to dissertation lmao

15. Do you like someone?

Yeah

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

This is very specific, as well as being pretty dark. Like why explosions? No one, lol, between this and asking who my worst enemy is, what sort of life do you think i lead?

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

What

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My hair is a pretty cool colour naturally (it’s purple now which is lovely as well but it’s usually like a golden blonde colour and I like it a lot)

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Okay so I’m fucking terrified of trains and apparently that’s really funny to everyone in London but I think it’s a pretty rational fear. Also, I’m low key scared of Aaron Taylor Johnson. That one I’m not going to justify.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Exchange in for apprximately £78 and buy approximately 78 five packs of cookies from the tesco bakery

29. What is your favorite expletive?

Fuck is a really good expletive I use it often and always. Although I’ve recenly started using the phrase “what the shit”, which I picked up from one of my friends I live with and that’s also an excellent phrase. On it’s own though, fuck is the best.

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

The board game cupboard, that’s all we have left anyway

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Nothing I;m going to talk about on tumblr lmao

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

I am a brilliant [insert anything you’d like here]. Thanks for asking.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

A few times yeah it doesn’t snow very often in Ireland which sucks

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Sunsets probably bc I don’t ever like being awake early if I don’t need to be, but when I’m on hospital placement “` my train leaves Clapham Junction at 6:52 so I get to see the sunrise over the London Skyline wich is pretty fucking cool and it kind of makes being up that early worth it, but only kinda

41. What is your favourite milkshake flavour?

Oero milkshakes are where its at

43. Do you have any scars?

I have a scar under my left eyebrow from being hit with a golf club when I was eight years old my my friend when we were messing around with his brothers stuff. I also have a scar on my left ankle from shaving lmao. I have loads of bruises with interesting stories (and loads of bruises i have no idea how they got there) but very few scars

45. What do you want to be when you graduate?

I don’t have a lot of options when I graduate, lol, I’m studying therapeutic radiography, which isn’t exactly a transferable skill set. I want to go into whats called Review Radiography though, where you specialise in the side effects of one specific area of radiotherapy (e.g. breast, gynae, head and neck) and then you have your own patient load and you can take a prescribing course and you work to minimise and manage their side effects individually

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

“What the fuck”

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

Any conversation I’ve ever had with my friend Matt. I have two friends called Matt and this goes for both of them. Also the first inside joke I ever had with @eiqhties was about what would be both likely to kill you, a pineaplle or a bus and that was seven and a bit years ago and it still comes up sometimes

51. Are you a good liar?

Depends what I’m lying about and who I’m lying too

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

The emo fringe I cut myself when i was 14 lmai

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Not really, but I sometimes pick up on other peoples accents when I’m talking to them it’s really bad (my mum is awful at doing this)

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

I don’t really draw, but tend to doodle stars on thing s when I’m stressed so it was probably a star

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I do when I’m at home home, or when the boys aren’t in.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

Yeah, because it’s a logical thing to believe, there’s no way we’’re the only intelligent life in the universe

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

I fucking love the horoscopes in The Metro, Joe and I always read them on our way to uni

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

Thanks

Thank you actually though!!! Have a funky day xx

[ramialkarmi]

Psychedelics could be the cutting-edge treatment for mental illness that we’ve been ignoring for half a century

Estalyn Walcoff arrived at the nondescript beige building in Manhattan's Grammercy Park neighborhood on a balmy August morning, hours before the city would begin to swell with the frenetic energy of summer tourists. She was about to face a similar type of chaos — but only in her mind.

Pushing open the door to the Bluestone Center at the New York University College of Dentistry, Walcoff entered what looked like an average 1970s living room. A low-backed brown couch hugged one wall. On either side, a dark brown table held a homely lamp and an assortment of colorful, hand-painted dishes. A crouching golden Buddha, head perched thoughtfully on its knee, adorned another table closer to the entrance.

Months before, Walcoff had volunteered to participate in a study of how the psychedelic drug psilocybin, the main psychoactive ingredient in magic mushrooms, affects the brain in cancer patients with anxiety and depression. The promising results of that five-year study, published earlier this month, have prompted some researchers to liken the treatment to a "surgical intervention.”

The researchers believe they are on the cusp of nothing less than a breakthrough: A single dose of psychedelic drugs appears to alleviate the symptoms of some of the most common, perplexing, and tragic illnesses of the brain. With depression the leading cause of disability worldwide, the timing seems ideal.

In people like Walcoff, whose depression and anxiety struck them like a powerful blow following a cancer diagnosis, one dose of psilocybin seemed to quiet her existential dread, to remind her of her connectedness with the world around her, and perhaps most importantly, to reassure her of her place in it.

And these results don't seem to be limited to people with cancer or another life-threatening illness. Participants in a handful of other psychedelic studies consistently ranked their trip as one of their most meaningful life experiences — not only because of the trip itself, but because of the changes they appear to produce in their lives in the months and years afterward.

Still, the existing research is limited — which is why, scientists say, they so badly need permission from the government to do more.

Clark’s story

1990 was a year of life and death for Clark Martin. It was the year his daughter was born and the year he was diagnosed with cancer.

Over the next twenty years, as his daughter took her first steps, experienced her first day of school, and eventually began growing into a smart, fiercely independent teenager, doctors waged a blitzkrieg on Martin's body. Six surgeries. Two experimental treatments. Thousands of doctor's visits. The cancer never went into remission, but Martin and his doctors managed to keep it in check by staying vigilant, always catching the disease just as it was on the brink of spreading.

Still, the cancer took its toll. Martin was riddled with anxiety and depression. He'd become so focused on saving his body from the cancer that he hadn't made time for the people and things in his life that really mattered. His relationships were in shambles; he and his daughter barely spoke.

So in 2010, after reading an article in a magazine about a medical trial that involved giving people with cancer and anxiety the drug psilocybin, he contacted the people running the experiment and asked to be enrolled.

After weeks of lengthy questionnaires and interviews, he was selected. On a chilly December morning, Martin walked into the facility at Johns Hopkins, where he was greeted by two researchers including Johns Hopkins psychologist Bill Richards. The three of them sat and talked in the room for half an hour, going over the details of the study and what might happen.

Martin then received a pill and swallowed it with a glass of water. For study purposes, he couldn't know whether it was a placebo or psilocybin, the drug the researchers aimed to study.

Next, he lay back on the couch, covered his eyes with the soft shades he'd been given, and waited.

Within a few minutes, Martin began to feel a sense of intense panic.

"It was quite anxiety provoking. I tried to relax and meditate but that seemed to make it worse and I just wanted everything to snap back into place. There was no sense of time and I realized the drug was in me and there was no stopping it.”

Martin, an avid sailor, told me it reminded him of a frightening experience he'd had once when, after being knocked off his boat by a wave, he'd become suddenly disoriented and lost track of the boat, which was floating behind him.

"It was like falling off the boat in the open ocean, looking back, and the boat is gone. And then the water disappears. Then you disappear."

Martin was terrified, and felt on the verge of a "full-blown panic attack." Thanks to the comfort and guidance of his doctors, however, he was eventually able to calm down. Over the next few hours, the terror vanished. It was replaced with a sense of tranquility that Martin still has trouble putting into words.

"With the psilocybin you get an appreciation — it's out of time — of well-being, of simply being alive and a witness to life and to everything and to the mystery itself," said Martin.

Lots of things happened to Martin over the course of his four-hour trip. For a few hours, he remembers feeling a sense of ease; he was simultaneously comfortable, curious, and alert. At one point, he recalls a vision of being in a sort of cathedral where he asked God to speak to him. More than anything else, though, he no longer felt alone.

"The whole ‘you' thing just kinda drops out into a more timeless, more formless presence," Martin said.

Over the next few hours, as his trip slowly began to draw to a close and he began to return to reality, Martin recalls a moment where the two worlds — the one in which he was hallucinating and the reality he could call up willingly from memory — seemed to merge. He turned his attention to his relationships. He thought of his daughter. His friends. His co-workers.

"In my relationships I had always approached it from a, ‘How do I manage this?', How do I present myself?,' ‘Am I a good listener?', type of standpoint. But it dawned on me as I was coming out of [the trip] that relationships are pretty much spontaneous if you're just present and connecting," said Martin.

That shift, which Martin stresses has continued to deepen since he took the psilocybin in 2010, has had enduring implications for his relationships.

"Now if I'm meeting people, the default is to be just present, not just physically, but mentally present to the conversation. That switch has been profound.”

While he felt himself undergo a shift during his 4-hour trip on psilocybin, Martin says the most enduring changes in his personality and his approach to those around him have continued to unfold in the months and years after he took the drug. For him, the drug was merely a catalyst; a "kick-start," he likes to call it. By temporarily redirecting his perspective within the span of few hours, Martin believes it unleashed a chain reaction in the way he sees and approaches the world.

This squares with what researchers have found by looking at the brain on psilocybin.

Taking the road(s) less traveled

Ask a healthy person who's "tripped" on psychedelics what it felt like, and they'll probably tell you they saw sounds.

The crash-bang of a dropped box took on an aggressive, dark shape. Or they might say they heard colors. A bright green light seems to emit a piercing, high-pitched screech.

In actuality, this "cross-wiring" — or synaesthesia, as it's known scientifically — may be one example of the drug "freeing" the brain from its typical connection patterns.

This fundamental change in how the brain sends and receives information also might be the reason they're so promising as a treatment for people with mental illnesses like depression, anxiety, or addiction. In order to understand why, it helps to take a look at how a healthy brain works.

Normally, information gets exchanged in the brain using various circuits, or what one researcher described to me as "informational highways." On some highways, there's a steady stream of traffic. On others, however, there's rarely more than a few cars on the road. Psychedelics appear to drive traffic to these underused highways, opening up dozens of different routes to new traffic and freeing up some space along the more heavily-used ones.

Dr. Robin Cahart-Harris, who leads the psychedelic research arm of the Center for Neuropsychopharmacology at Imperial College London, captured these changes in one of the first neuroimaging studies of the brain on a psychedelic trip. He presented his findings at a conference on the therapeutic potential of psychedelics in New York City last year. "[With the psilocybin] there was a definite sense of lubrication, of freedom, of the cogs being loosened and firing in all sorts of unexpected directions," said Cahart-Harris.

This might be just the kick-start that a depressed brain needs.

One key characteristic of depression is overly-strengthened connections between brain circuits in certain regions of the brain — particularly those involved in concentration, mood, conscious thought, and the sense of self. And in fact, this may be part of the reason that electroconvulsive therapy, which involves placing electrodes on the temples and delivering a small electrical current, can help some severely depressed people — by tamping down on some of this traffic.

"In the depressed brain, in the addicted brain, in the obsessed brain, it gets locked into a pattern of thinking or processing that's driven by the frontal, the control center, and they cannot un-depress themselves," David Nutt, the director of the neuropsychopharmacology unit in the Division of Brain Sciences at Imperial College London, told me.

Nutt has been one of the pioneering researchers in the field of studying how psychedelics might be used to treat mental illness. He said that in depressed people, these overly-trafficked circuits (think West Los Angeles at rush-hour) can lead to persistent negative thoughts. Feelings of self-criticism can get obsessive and overwhelming. So in order to free someone with depression from those types of thoughts, one would need to divert traffic from some of these congested ruts and, even better, redirect it to emptier highways.

Which is precisely what psychedelics appear to do.

"Psychedelics disrupt that process so people can escape. At least for the duration of the trip they can escape about the ruminations about depression or alcohol or obsessions. And then they do not necessarily go back," said Nutt.

A 4-hour trip, a long-lasting change

"Medically what you're doing [with psychedelics is] you're perturbing the system," Paul Expert, who co-authored one of the first studies to map the activity in the human brain on psilocybin, told me over tea on a recent afternoon in London's bustling Whitechapel neighborhood.

Expert, a physicist at the King's College London Center for Neuroimaging Sciences, doesn't exactly have the background you'd expect from someone studying magic mushrooms.

But it was by drawing on his background as a physicist, Expert told me, that he and his team were able to come up with a systematic diagram of what the brain looks like on a psilocybin trip. Their study, published in 2014, also helps explain how altering the brain temporarily with psilocybin can produce changes that appear to continue to develop over time.

When you alter how the brain functions (or "perturb the system," in physicist parlance) with psychedelics, "that might reinforce some connections that already exist, or they might be more stimulated," Expert told me.

But those changes aren't as temporary as one might expect for a 4-hour shroom trip. Instead, they appear to catalyze dozens of other changes that deepen in the for months and years after taking the drug.

"So people who take magic mushrooms report for a long time after the actual experience that they feel better, they're happier with life," said Expert. "But understanding exactly why this is the case is quite tricky, because the actual trip is very short, and it's not within that short span of time that you could actually have sort of new connections that are made. That takes much more time.”

The clinical trials that Walcoff and Martin took part in, which took place at NYU and Johns Hopkins over the course of five years, are the longest and most comprehensive studies of people with depression on psychedelics that we have to-date. Last year, a team of Brazilian researchers published a review of all of the clinical trials on psychedelics published between 1990 and 2015. After looking at 151 studies, the researchers were only able to find six which met their analysis criteria. The rest were either too small, too poorly-controlled, or problematic for another reason. Nevertheless, based on the six studies they were able to review, the researchers concluded that "ayahuasca, psilocybin, and LSD may be useful pharmacological tools for the treatment of drug dependence, and anxiety and mood disorders, especially in treatment-resistant patients. These drugs may also be useful pharmacological tools to understand psychiatric disorders and to develop new therapeutic agents.”

Because the existing research is so limited, scientists still can't say exactly what is happening in the brain of someone who's tripped on psychedelics that appears to unleash such a cascade of life changes like the kind Martin described.

What we do know, though, is that things like training for a musical instrument or learning a skill change the brain. It's possible that psychedelics do something similar over the long-term, even if the actual trip — the phase of drug use that many people focus on — is pretty brief.

In other words, a trip "might trigger a sort of snowball effect," said Expert, in the way the brain processes information.

And something about the experience appears to be much more powerful, for some people, than even years of antidepressants. A small recent trial of psilocybin that Nutt co-authored in people whose chronic depression had not responded to repeated attempts at treatment with medication suggested that this may be the case. While the trial was only designed to determine if the drug was safe, all of the study participants saw a significant decrease in symptoms at a one-week follow-up; the majority said they continued to see a decrease in symptoms at another follow-up done three months later.

"We treated people who'd been suffering for 30 years. And they're getting better with a single dose," said Nutt. "So that tells us this drug is doing something profound.”

Killing the ego

Between 1954 and 1960, Dr. Humphry Osmond gave thousands of alcoholics LSD.

It was part of an experimental treatment regimen aimed at helping them recover. Osmond thought that the acid would mimic some of the symptoms of delirium tremens, a psychotic condition common in chronic alcoholics when they try to stop drinking that can involve tremors, hallucinations, anxiety, and disorientation. Osmond thought the experience might shock the alcoholics, who'd thus far failed to respond to any other treatments, into not drinking again.

He was wrong.

Rather than terrifying his patients with an extreme case of shakes and hallucinations, the acid appeared to produce positive, long-lasting changes in their personalities. Something about the LSD appeared to help the suffering alcoholics "reorganize their personalities and reorganize their lives," said New York University psychiatrist Michael Bogenschutz at a conference on therapeutic psychedelics last year.

A year later, 40% to 45% of Osmond's patients had not returned to drinking — a higher success rate than any other existing treatment for alcoholism.

In an interview with the Harvard psychiatrist Dr. John Halpern, Osmond's colleague, the biochemist Dr. Abram Hoffer, recalled, "Many of them didn't have a terrible experience. In fact, they had a rather interesting experience.”

While some call it interesting, other have called it "spiritual," "mystical," or even "religious.”

Scientists still can't say for sure what is going on in the brain during a trip that appears to produce these types of experiences. We know that part of it is about the tamping down of certain circuits and the ramping up of others.

Interestingly enough, one of the circuits that appears to get quieter during a psychedelic trip is the circuit that connects the parahippocampus and the retrosplenial cortex. This network is thought to play a key role in our sense of self, or ego.

Deflating the ego is far from the soul-crushing disappointment it sounds like. Instead, it appears to make people feel more connected to the people and environment around them.

Cahart-Harris, who conducted the first study of its kind to take images of a healthy brain on LSD, said in a news release that his findings support that idea. In a normal, non-drugged person, specific parts of our brain light up with activity depending on what we're doing. If we're focused on reading something, the visual cortex sparkles with action. If we're listening carefully to someone, our auditory cortex is particularly active. Under the influence of LSD, the activity isn't as neatly segregated. "... the separateness of these networks breaks down and instead you see a more integrated or unified brain," he said.

That change might help explain why the drug produces an altered state of consciousness too. Just as the invisible walls between once-segregated tasks are broken down, the barriers between the sense of self and the feeling of interconnection with one's environment appear to dissolve. "The normal sense of self is broken down and replaced by a sense of re-connection with themselves, others and the natural world,"said Cahart-Harris.

Given that one of the key characteristics of mental illnesses like depression and alcoholism is isolation and loneliness, this newfound interconnection could act as a powerful antidote.

"It's kind of like getting out of a cave. You can see the light and you can stay in the light," said Nutt. "You've been liberated.”

A spiritual experience

Humans have a long history of looking to "spiritual experiences" to treat mental illness and of using psychedelics to help bring such experiences about.

Ayahuasca, a hallucinogenic beverage brewed from the macerated and boiled vines of the Banisteriopsis caapi (yagé) plant and the Psychotria viridis (chacruna) leaf, has been used as a traditional spiritual medicine in ceremonies among the indigenous peoples of Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru for centuries. Its name is a combination of the Quechua words "aya,"which can be loosely translated into "spirit"and "waska,"or "woody vine."Europeans didn't encounter ayahuasca until the 1500s, when Christian missionaries traveling through Amazonia from Spain and Portugal saw it being used by indigenous peoples. (At the time, they called it the work of the devil.)

It's now understood that ayahuasca has a similar effect on the brain as magic mushrooms or acid. Yet unlike magic mushrooms, whose main psychoactive ingredient is the drug psilocybin, ayahuasca's psychoactive effects come from a result of mixing two different substances — the drug dimethyltryptamine (DMT), from the chacruna plant, and the MAO-Inhibitor (MAOI), from the yage plant, which allows the DMT to be absorbed into our bloodstream.

In the early 1950s, in fact, writer William Burroughs traveled through South America looking for the yagé plant hoping that he could use it to help cure opiate addiction. Some fifteen years earlier, a man suffering in an alcoholic ward in New York had a transformative experience on the hallucinogen belladonna. "The effect was instant, electric. Suddenly my room blazed with an incredibly white light," the man wrote. Shortly after that, the man, whose name was William ("Bill”) Wilson, would go on to found the 12-step recovery program Alcoholics Anonymous. Wilson later experimented with LSD and said he believed the drug could help alcoholics achieve one of the central tenets of AA: acceptance of a "power greater than ourselves.”

Nevertheless, ayahuasca, LSD, and other hallucinogens were slow to gain notoriety across Europe and North America. They saw a temporary surge in popularity in the US in the 1960s, with people like Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert writing of the "ego loss" produced by magic mushrooms as part of their Harvard Psilocybin Project. But in 1966, the US government made psychedelics illegal, and most experimentation, along with all research into their potential medicinal properties, came to a screeching halt.

Meanwhile, scientists have continued to experiment with the drugs in whatever capacity they can. Bogenschutz, one of the presenters at the New York psychedelic conference, has spent years studying the effects of a single dose of psychedelics on addicts. He's found that in most cases, studies suggest the hallucinogens can improve mood, decrease anxiety, increase motivation, produce changes in personality, beliefs and values, and most importantly, decrease cravings. But how?

"One of the big questions was how would a single use produce lasting behavior change?" he said in 2014, "because if this is going to produce any lasting effect, there have to be consistent changes.”

Based on several small pilot studies that he's helped conduct, Bogenschutz hypothesizes that the drugs affect addicts in two ways, which he breaks down into "acute" or short-term effects and "secondary"or longer-term effects. In the short-term, psychedelics affect our serotonin receptors, the brain's main mood-regulatory neurotransmitters. Next, they affect our glutamate receptors, which appear to produce the so-called transformative experiences and psychological insight that people experience on the drugs.

"This is the most rewarding work I've ever done. To see these kinds of experiences ... it's just not as easy to get there with psychotherapy," he said.

Staying in the light

From the time she was born, Clark Martin's daughter and her father had a difficult relationship. He and his wife were never married, but they loved their child and divided their time with her as best they could. Still, Martin couldn't help feel like their time together was consistently strained. For one thing, the spontaneity that's so vital to many relationships was absent. He always knew when their time together started and when it was coming to an end.

"You're not having as much everyday experience," Martin recalled. "Instead you're having kind of a planned experience. And that affects the depth of the relationship, I think."

Martin felt similarly about his father, who had developed Alzheimer's several years before. Martin would visited when he could, but whenever they were together Martin felt compelled to try and push the visits into the confines of whatever he thought a "normal" father-son interaction should be. He'd try to make their discussions mirror the ones they would have had before his father became ill — "I kept trying to have ‘normal' conversations with him," Martin recalled.

About three hours into his psilocybin trip at Johns Hopkins, Martin called to mind a memory of his teenage daughter. "I'd been so focused on pursuing my own ideas about what was best for her," he realized, "trying to be the architect of her life," that he had let that get in the way of making sure she knew how much he loved and cared about her.

One afternoon about a year after the trip, Martin drove out to visit his father. This time, instead of trying to have a "normal" conversation with him, Martin took him for a drive.

"He always loved farming and ranching and we'd just get in the car and spend hours driving along," Martin recalled.

As they drove, rolling green hills sped past them on all sides. His father looked out at the lush horizon with awe, as if he were seeing it for the first time. The crisp blue sky. The soft blanket of grass.

All of a sudden, Martin's father saw something. He gestured out the window, but Martin saw nothing — just grass and trees and sky. Then, something moved in the distance. There, in the middle of two emerald hills, a deer cocked its head up.

"It was miles away," said Martin. "I would have completely missed it."

SEE ALSO: What magic mushrooms do to your body and brain

DON'T MISS: We're on the cusp of an explosive change in how we treat one of America's most ignored health problems

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