Tobacco leaf pattern china
[Us to Us] [Sell] [perfume] Alkemia, AlphaMusk, Arcana Craves, Death + Floral, new Hex, MORARI, Sorcellerie apothecary, Sucreabeille, Sugar + Spite, and Whisper Sisters.
2023.06.07 22:59 Mother_Orchid_1109 [Us to Us] [Sell] [perfume] Alkemia, AlphaMusk, Arcana Craves, Death + Floral, new Hex, MORARI, Sorcellerie apothecary, Sucreabeille, Sugar + Spite, and Whisper Sisters.
Heeeyya fellow queerios, (+ non lgbtq+ beans.) 🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️ happy pride month! I hope you get to be authentically you now, and in the future. And if you currently are not able to for whatever reason, remember, a small minded person can only wade in shallow, + murky waters. (Did that make any make sense? Prob not.) Anyhow, welcome to my lil’ destash. Hope some of these perfumes will fly away to new homes, where they can be properly loved. 🦋
usual deets: perfumes stored in a dark, wooden chest, pet friendly, smoke free home, i often re-use packaging —- let me know if it’s a problem though, and ship within a week. shipping is $5 for 3 or less full sizes, but may cost more if you exceed that. $4 minimum please. Assume all are oils, unless otherwise noted.
FS’
Smaller sizes / samples
Cake for Breakfast 6ml rollerball): Birthday cake, ripe mango, pineapple, coffee, maple syrup, and a hint of cardamom. $17
-Athena (dram 3.5? - label quite stained and a little torn): Dark vanilla, patchouli, pepper, ivy, sea spray. ~65% full $3.50
Venus: label came off, about 3/5 ml spiral glass rollerball bottle. Can’t find notes, but it is definitely orange blossom, and if I’m not mistaken, I recall a frankincense note, which I get gently underlying, what is otherwise very orange blossom-y. ~60% full $3
Desmondontinae can’t find notes, but I believe I remember a black musk note, and a cola note that almost reads like clove, dry down is almost like a cola meets clove, meets motor oil, but make it slightly sweet - still a quite unique, dark, deep, + sort of warm scent. (about 2.5-3ml/5 ml take as a freebie, upon request with any $8 purchase or more. Label is damaged and unreadable.) RIS, Oil
Once again, thank you for looking! =‘ )
submitted by Mother_Orchid_1109 to IndieExchange [link] [comments]
usual deets: perfumes stored in a dark, wooden chest, pet friendly, smoke free home, i often re-use packaging —- let me know if it’s a problem though, and ship within a week. shipping is $5 for 3 or less full sizes, but may cost more if you exceed that. $4 minimum please. Assume all are oils, unless otherwise noted.
FS’
- Alkemia
- ALPHAMUSK: ($14 each unless otherwise noted)
- Baked [a scent inspired by the feeling of being high all day and getting so couch glued you don’t even want to get up to pee-pee but it’s all chill, buttery weed cookie crumbs(it’s not really very weed smelling more about the feels), warm vibrational musk.] ~90% full
- Shy [arabian musk tahara, almost glue-like in texture and each have their own irresistible skin like sweet vibe - this one smells like coconut and vanilla so I decided to amp that quality and I slowly cut in a coconut butter note, more of a desert actual butter and coconut not like the odorless oil, and marshmallow fluff. The musks natural vanilla quality sort of does its thing.] (around 70-75%full -$9)
- ARCANA CRAVES:
- DEATH AND FLORAL (both mostly full):
Smaller sizes / samples
- Arcana Wildcraft (house sample ~75-80% full -$3)
- Chillum [high in the Himalayas, herb is often smoked in a cylindrical pipe called a chillum, as it has been for thousands of years. Opening with a whoosh of cold blue pine, then expanding into a heart of sensual Yeti fur, animalic mountain musk, Himalayan cedarwood, and Himalayan Gold accord." (from the brand's website)]
- Fly Me to The Moon (LE charity scent for reproductive rights / abortion access / rights): Chocolate covered roasted coffee beans, toasted coconut shavings, sweet feminine musk. ~60% full $8
- Hellebore 8.5ml (Parfum Extrait): Pumpkin cakes, mace, smoked vanilla, burnt sugar. 75% full $12
- Traveler (5ml oil -Mostly full; discontinued): Indonesian Teak, Tobacco, Sage, Campfire Smoke. $7
Cake for Breakfast 6ml rollerball): Birthday cake, ripe mango, pineapple, coffee, maple syrup, and a hint of cardamom. $17
- buy👆🏻this and get a house sample of She’s a Witch: warm pizzelle cookies studded with anise seeds and dusted with powdered sugar, heliotrope, sheer woods, musk. for $1; fill is ~at least 60%)
-Athena (dram 3.5? - label quite stained and a little torn): Dark vanilla, patchouli, pepper, ivy, sea spray. ~65% full $3.50
- SUCREABEILLE:
- WHISPER SISTERS:
Venus: label came off, about 3/5 ml spiral glass rollerball bottle. Can’t find notes, but it is definitely orange blossom, and if I’m not mistaken, I recall a frankincense note, which I get gently underlying, what is otherwise very orange blossom-y. ~60% full $3
Desmondontinae can’t find notes, but I believe I remember a black musk note, and a cola note that almost reads like clove, dry down is almost like a cola meets clove, meets motor oil, but make it slightly sweet - still a quite unique, dark, deep, + sort of warm scent. (about 2.5-3ml/5 ml take as a freebie, upon request with any $8 purchase or more. Label is damaged and unreadable.) RIS, Oil
Once again, thank you for looking! =‘ )
2023.06.07 21:12 I-cant-be-57-Can-I Looking for free Maple Leaf pattern.
I've done some searching and haven't found a maple Leaf pattern I like. Does anyone out there in crochet land ha e one tucked away?
submitted by I-cant-be-57-Can-I to crochet [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 21:08 minhtyfreshtea [US to wherever USPS can go][Sell][perfume/linen spray/makeup/earrings] NAVA, BPAL, Alkemia, Stereoplasm, Whisper Sisters & More!
The Usual: US Shipping starts at 5.25$ for a bottle or up to a handful of samples/decants, 25 cents additional per bottle. PM me to get an international estimate. I ship within a week, depending on my work schedule. I extensively reuse packing materials. I have a couple flair threads floating around if you'd like some added assurance. Happy to do bundles. Also feel free to ask if I have more unlisted - I only list so much at a time to keep it manageable. Help me thin out the hoard!
Nocturne Alchemy
Astrid ajevie slonk, 3.25$ - Lunar Dust: Vanilla, white patchouli, soft wood notes, cream, orchid, and spun sugar.
CocoaPink 2.5oz linen spray (will require additional 1$ for shipping), 5.50$ - Castle Underground: Black wood, dark earth, patchouli, forest's breath, woodsmoke, incense, sweet blood orange, little cakes, wormwood, and brown sugar.
LalaLandScents (etsy) 1.5 ml sample - Bananas Foster: A mouthwatering blend of bananas, caramel, amaretto, and ice cream.
about-face paint-it lip color in Slumber (matte rosy beige), 14$ shipped - BNNU but it is out of its foil packet that it came in. My brain is dumb and needed to physically see what the color was because sometimes I can't trust what I see on a screen.
mystery polymer clay earrings for pierced ears, 10$/pair (or 8$ with FS perfume/lipstick purchase) - I bought a mystery box from this etsy shop, which consists of some prototypes and/or single run designs from her early days. I'm only reaching for 2-3 of these in my weekly rotation, so hoping to rehome the remaining pairs. Feel free to reach out for photos! Just can't get them uploaded at the moment but wanted to include them here before I forget again.
submitted by minhtyfreshtea to IndieExchange [link] [comments]
Nocturne Alchemy
- Noir Bunny (full 5ml), swap preferred but would let go for 27$ - Hot Apple Pie accord (Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Apple), Tobacco Accord, Pistachio accord, Vanilla Pudding accord, Black Vanilla Bean, Rosewood Oil, Crystalline Absolute and Black Cedar Wood
- Carnation Santalum Gold, 2ml direct sample - still sealed, 8$: White Carnation of Cairo, Gold Santalum of India, a drop of Egyptian Temple Oudh, French Vanilla Beans whole, Vanilla-Sugar, White Sugar and Pink Cotton Candy
- Egyptian Jasmine Crystal Musk, 2ml direct sample - still sealed, 8$: Egyptian Blue Jasmine, Crystal Vanilla Musk and Eternal Ankh Vanilla (concentrated from the PC Eternal Ankh)
- Cherry Musk sniffie slink - FWP
- Balancing the Sake Cup (a little below TOL), 23$: Candied ginger, orange blossom, benzoin, and clove.
- Crib Girls (half bottle), 18$: Seven honeys under one unkempt roof, with fiery-tart cubeb and dusty cardamom
- Bullfinch & Weeping Cherry (Uso, Shidarezakura), half bottle, 14$: Weeping cherry blossoms, pink musk, woad, black plum, benzoin, tuberose, and incense smoke.
- Caressing the Wild Rabbit, decant, 5$: White tea, honeycomb, vanilla orchid, and a drop of soft sandalwood.
- Dracul, direct GC imp/slink, 2$: Black musk, tobacco, fir, balsam of peru, cumin, bitter clove, crushed mint, and orange blossom.
- Belle Epoque, direct GC imp/slink, 2$: Sweet opium, Lily of the Valley, vanilla, mandarin and red sandalwood.
- Black Tower, direct imp/slink, 2$: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.
- Zombi, direct imp/slink (I have two available), 2$: Dried roses, rose leaf, Spanish moss, oakmoss and deep brown earth.
- Pomona, 10$: apple blossom, orange blossom, frankincense
- Flora, 10$: orange blossom, iris, honeysuckle, galbanum, apple blossom, black currant, vetiver, lavender, blue Egyptian musk, red Egyptian musk
- Witches Breath, 10$: an ever changing blend that will never smell the same twice.
- Devana, 10$: magnolia, angel's trumpet, tuberose, narcissus, blue Egyptian musk, Arabian musk, orange blossom, orchid, hints of damp earth and peach
- Haiku, 5ml rollerball ultime oil (at least 4ml left), 18$: A delicate meditation of jasmine pearl tea, white sandalwood, bamboo, and green tea buds illuminated by teaflower aldehydes.
- Sadzi, a little over half left of 5ml rollerball ultime oil, smudged label (arrived to me like such), 10$: Mandarin orange, Tangelo, Key lime, Calamondin, Pommello, Bergamot, Fig tea, Sparkling lemongrass musk
- Frog Dew, 0.5 ml sample, 2.50$: A dewy coat scented by notes of swamp azalea, wild basil, bergamot, luminescent marsh gas and devil fruit
- Jasmine Green Milk Tea, 1.8ml mini bottle (no rollerball), 5$: Loose green tea leaves and jasmine flowers steeped in lightly sweetened milk and whisked with a teaspoon of finely ground matcha
- Cursed be Iron: A blend of smoke, charcoal, and Frankincense with aquatic undertones. Smells like an anvil.
- None More Black Licorice: A pure, true black licorice scent. A natural blend of Anise essential oil and Vanilla infused oil.
Astrid ajevie slonk, 3.25$ - Lunar Dust: Vanilla, white patchouli, soft wood notes, cream, orchid, and spun sugar.
CocoaPink 2.5oz linen spray (will require additional 1$ for shipping), 5.50$ - Castle Underground: Black wood, dark earth, patchouli, forest's breath, woodsmoke, incense, sweet blood orange, little cakes, wormwood, and brown sugar.
LalaLandScents (etsy) 1.5 ml sample - Bananas Foster: A mouthwatering blend of bananas, caramel, amaretto, and ice cream.
about-face paint-it lip color in Slumber (matte rosy beige), 14$ shipped - BNNU but it is out of its foil packet that it came in. My brain is dumb and needed to physically see what the color was because sometimes I can't trust what I see on a screen.
mystery polymer clay earrings for pierced ears, 10$/pair (or 8$ with FS perfume/lipstick purchase) - I bought a mystery box from this etsy shop, which consists of some prototypes and/or single run designs from her early days. I'm only reaching for 2-3 of these in my weekly rotation, so hoping to rehome the remaining pairs. Feel free to reach out for photos! Just can't get them uploaded at the moment but wanted to include them here before I forget again.
2023.06.07 21:03 DreamerofBigThings How do I protect the print on pottery/china shards from grit/grinding in a rock tumbler?
I love jewellery made using old broken pottery and china and I like digging up pottery on my grandparent's old farm dump (multi generation). But, I see that all the jewellers who make this type of jewellery will round the edges with either lapidary equipment or a stained glass grinder. I do not have either of these but I do have rock tumblers.
I'm wondering if there was a way to temporarily adhere something to the printed surface of the shards to protect the pattern but allow the tumbler to grind the edges round and smooth?
Any suggestions?
submitted by DreamerofBigThings to jewellerymaking [link] [comments]
I'm wondering if there was a way to temporarily adhere something to the printed surface of the shards to protect the pattern but allow the tumbler to grind the edges round and smooth?
Any suggestions?
2023.06.07 21:01 DreamerofBigThings How do I temporarily protect the print on china/pottery shards from grit/grinding when rock tumbling to get the edges rounded?
I love jewellery made using old broken pottery and china and I like digging up pottery on my grandparent's old farm dump (multi generation). But, I see that all the jewellers who make this type of jewellery will round the edges with either lapidary equipment or a stained glass grinder. I do not have either of these but I do have rock tumblers.
I'm wondering if there was a way to temporarily adhere something to the printed surface of the shards to protect the pattern but allow the tumbler to grind the edges round and smooth?
Any suggestions?
submitted by DreamerofBigThings to Lapidary [link] [comments]
I'm wondering if there was a way to temporarily adhere something to the printed surface of the shards to protect the pattern but allow the tumbler to grind the edges round and smooth?
Any suggestions?
2023.06.07 20:59 DreamerofBigThings Any suggestions on completely protecting a surface from grit while tumbling?
I love jewellery made using old broken pottery and china and I like digging up pottery on my grandparent's old farm dump (multi generation). But, I see that all the jewellers who make this type of jewellery will round the edges with either lapidary equipment or a stained glass grinder. I do not have either of these but I do have rock tumblers.
I'm wondering if there was a way to temporarily adhere something to the printed surface of the shards to protect the pattern but allow the tumbler to grind the edges round and smooth?
Any suggestions?
submitted by DreamerofBigThings to RockTumbling [link] [comments]
I'm wondering if there was a way to temporarily adhere something to the printed surface of the shards to protect the pattern but allow the tumbler to grind the edges round and smooth?
Any suggestions?
2023.06.07 19:12 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.07 17:02 Screaming_Mosquito Does anyone want this thing growing in my backyard? Please say yes.
I've tried selling this thing for weeks now on Facebook Marketplace, eventually at just 1 cent because I just genuinely want it out of my hair. And I cannot find any takers. I want someone to just take it instead of throwing it out because honestly, I'm deeply nervous about what would happen if I did. But if this advertisement proves to be just as fruitless, I will do it despite my nervousness because my mind just can't take this anymore otherwise I'm afraid I'm going to have a psychological break with reality and need to be sedated.
I grew up originally in Northern California near Mt. Shasta, and four years ago I moved to the Big Island of Hawaii after I got a new job working for the university located in Hilo as an adjunct. The search for a place to rent where I could garden in the backyard took a while, but the wait was worth it. Gardening is like comfort food for my soul, and always has been ever since I was a little girl. My mom brought me up doing it, and I took to it immediately when I was just 3 or 4 she always liked to remind me.
I suppose the reason I wanted to leave California was the fact that she wasn't there anymore, that the last piece or vestige of my family was gone and I was all that was left of the life we used to have out there. I remember the day everything was packed up for the movers and ready to go, I walked outside to wait for a friend to pick me up to take me to the airport. As I sat there on my porch, I saw an elderly man walking in front of my front yard. It was an old friend of my mom's from the neighborhood. He had been very kind to me at her funeral as he had just lost his wife himself. We both waved at each other and I got up to chat with him one last time.
As it turned out, he was there to give me a going away present. It was a batch of strange seeds in a small sack. Some were colored burgundy, others indigo, and still others ivory with fascinating patterns on them. In total, there were 19 by my count. He said that before his wife passed away, she had originally intended to give them to my mom. Apparently, during one of their hiking trips around the mountain, the two of them kept stopping to see if someone was following them. Every time they would, some tree would rustle or a bush would make a quick, sharp noise indicating some sort of disturbance. Towards the end of their hike, they stopped one final time only for them to turn around and notice that someone had left this dingy little sack of seeds on a rotted out tree stump they had just passed. In other words, there was no question at that point that they had been followed.
For what reason? He couldn't say, though obviously the implication was that whoever it was wanted them to have these seeds. His wife died soon after that, before she could pass them along to my mother. He said he was hesitant to part with them after she died, but felt extremely guilty having waited too long to give them to my mom. Now that I was heading to Hawaii, he thought he ought to just give them to me instead of continuing to keep them. Other than that, he told me to be very careful with them, to specifically pour them out into the ground from the sack instead of touching them myself. And I wondered why. Like it's such an oddly specific thing to bring up about them.
Regardless.
I took them gratefully and thanked him for the gift and said that my mother would have loved them. Now, I'm not so sure she would have.
It was only a week or so after I had finally unpacked everything in my new place that I decided to garden again. And the first thing I planted, of course, were the seeds once meant for my mom. In memory of her. It was only one I put in the ground because honestly I wasn’t exactly sure how big this thing was going to grow to be. I wasn’t even sure what exactly this thing was even going to grow to be either. Turns out, it’s a vegetable… of some kind. I think. It’s almost like a yam? Like with the same texture and everything but with bright orange skin… and fur in strange places? Also, another thing, it’s like a yam but at the time of writing this it has most definitely grown beyond the size of a typical yam. Basically it’ll increase in size every week or so by a half a foot by my measure. Also, every time it grows by that much, another bulbous root pops out and burrows itself beneath.
And oh yeah there are little blue flowers (or what I guess you could call flowers) growing out of little nooks and crannies and just random spots all over. I’m not sure what to say. I have yet to identify it. If one of you reading this can, then good for you, would you like to take it off my hands in that case? Please? Okay well, I guess I better finally explain why I want this damn thing out of here. I’ve already ostracized myself at work trying to get people to take it, as well as trying to explain what makes me hate the thing, so what harm will come from making a bunch of internet strangers think I’m creepy or crazy?
The black and white of it is that every time this thing grows a half a foot, every time another root plants itself in the ground, every time another one of those little blue flower buds appears on it, something changes. About the world we live in. About our history. About how we live day to day. And no one seems to notice any of the changes except for me. Today in fact, I almost got into a fatal car crash after I woke up and took note of a new flower bud growing on the side of it facing my house. If you put a Bible in front of me and made me swear to God that I was going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I would swear on that, my life, and my late mother’s grave that I grew up knowing that Americans in all 50 states drive on the left side of the road.
I know you’re probably laughing at me. Because that’s what the person I almost ran into did when I told them. They wanted to know if I was British or something, and I said no I was born and raised in Northern California all my life. The closest I’ve ever even been to a foreign country is San Diego. But when I pulled over after that scare and looked it up on my phone, there it was. Americans drive on the right side of the road and pretty much always have. It’s just so… jarring. I have vivid memories of me death gripping the wheel to my mom’s Wrangler for the first time in my life, with her in the passenger seat teaching me the rules of the road for the first time. And I remember very clearly her telling me that no matter where I go in the United States or Canada, if I ever did that is, I would be on the left side of the road the entire time.
And I remember everyone else driving on the left side too. I remember them doing it yesterday. And now, everyone’s acting like it’s actually been this other way the entire time and that I’m somehow just noticing it. But I’m not “just noticing” it. It changed without warning me, to my abject frustration. This is what my life has been like since I planted it. I remember when it first sprouted. When I first started noticing the changes. The very first one I encountered were the changes made to the American flag. Again, swearing to God, on my own life, and on my late mother’s grave, I can attest that the American flag has always had 13, red and white, diagonal stripes. Not horizontal. Diagonal.
Again, I remember vividly sitting Indian style around our 1st grade teacher as she taught us some of the most basic history of the Revolutionary War. Particularly when it came to the Betsy Ross story. I remember being told that, when Betsy Ross first showed George Washington her initial design for the flag that it did indeed have horizontal stripes just like the one I suppose all of you are familiar with. But at the last second, he had her change them to be diagonal because he wanted to convey that the United States did not intend to be an empire in which some states would be perceived to be dominating the others by being “on top”. Making the stripes diagonal, to him, avoided this undesired symbolism.
I remember it all so clearly, even the little kitschy cartoon drawings in our school books of him with Betsy Ross as she showed him the final design. I remember reading about it in middle and high school. Hell, I even remember writing a 13 page essay for US History I in college that dealt with the subject. The paper of course, along with any historical record or proof of this detailed memory (digital or otherwise), is nowhere I can find it. It’s as if God or something turned the whole world into one big Wikipedia article and began editing reality at random with no one reverting the changes.
If you don’t think I’m crazy yet, then maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. When I noticed the plant had grown its eighth root, I learned for the first time in my life that Richard Nixon resigned over the Watergate scandal and not for having been outed as having had a nearly decade long affair with both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy at the same time as I thought I had been taught. I hadn’t even heard the term Watergate before that. In fact, I learned at the same exact time that apparently for decades since, the affix -gate had been attached to various other scandals and controversies as though it were a naming convention. Until that eighth root planted itself firmly in the ground, I had never once seen or heard of something like that before.
The day I noticed the very first flower to bloom on it, was the same day I found out there’s this little place near Long Island and New Jersey you may have heard of called New York City. You see, to me, that place has always been (and always will be in my mind as I cling onto what I know to be the truth) New Ithaca. Frank Sinatra’s famous song that is played every year on New Year’s Eve, has always been about the great city of New Ithaca, the Big Apple. The changes are just so weird and particular too. The whole general history of that city and state has remains the same though (at least to me), being that it was founded by the Dutch but was taken by the British and renamed before becoming a part of the United States. Only, instead the place was previously named New North Brabant whereas I suppose you have always known that New York used to be New Amsterdam.
There’s even a song about that bit of trivia, I learned. Catchy, and also cringe inducing for someone like me going through what I’m going through.
Actually the overwhelming bulk of changes have had to do with place names. Again growing up, I had it beaten into my brain that in 1492 Columbus sailed the Pacific blue. You heard that right. The vast puddle you probably call the Atlantic Ocean has always been the Pacific to me. And vice versa. Nebraska was a name I had not ever heard of before I measured another half foot in that damn thing’s already enormous length. To me that place was called the State of Fillmore. If before I measured it to be at 3 feet, you had asked me to point out Paris on a map, I would have stared at you blankly until I realized you probably meant to say Degaulleville which was built just northeast of the ruins of the ill-fated City of Lights after it was used as a testing ground for Germany’s most devastating weapon of WWII - the nuclear bomb.
Apparently in this new world the plant has created for me, it is our country that has the dubious honor of being the first military in the world to use nuclear weapons in an actual war.
And the list of changes I have just goes on and on like that. I’m not going to waste time spelling them all out for you. I’m sure that should be enough for you to at least hear me out or dismiss me as having had a break with reality. All I want now is this thing in my backyard, and these seeds to boot, out of here. Like I said in the beginning, I’d throw it away, but now that I suspect there’s some sort of link between it and all these changes being made, I worry what it could do to me if I yanked it out of the ground and chucked it into a dumpster. Degaulleville, Fillmore, etc. were erased by this thing. I could be too, if I made it mad enough.
There’s another part of me, a selfish part, that hopes if someone else takes it they can be the ones to have all these changes happen to instead. They can be the ones to watch desperately as what you once knew to be true, to be there, to be real, is all ground up and thrown away like it was nothing to bend your reality and leave you as the only one aware of it. I want that to happen to someone else instead of me. I want to be the one who’s oblivious to the changes made in the fabric and window dressings of reality. I want to be the one who reads the complaints and desperate cries of someone like me, and calls them crazy. I want want want that.
There’s another, tinier part of me, that naively hopes once I can leave this thing with someone else, it will change reality again but this time for the better. For the better, for me. Maybe once it starts affecting someone else adversely, it can change reality one more time to make my mom come back. To come back in a way that would make me forget she was ever gone. And then maybe I can go home, go back to the life I was used to living. But I know at the same time, there’s absolutely no reason it would do something nice like that for me.
Hell, if anything, it could decide to make things in reality, history, etc. worse for everyone including me. Like let me think… Okay for example, remember back in 1999 when everyone was afraid of the Y2K bug, but then it turned out to not be such a catastrophic ordeal as people were predicting? That damn plant could change things to make it so that Y2K’s catastrophic potential was fulfilled. Or wait, here’s a more recent example - remember like three or so years ago when there was that weird disease in China all the schools and governments got freaked out about for two weeks, warning about having to do lockdowns and stuff like that only for the Chinese government to successfully contain it before it could leave its shores?
I’d imagine the plant could change that history as well. And it’s not like I want any of that to happen, it’s just that I have little to no control over whether or not it will. And I just want to be free from being the only one to know it’s all happening. To notice it everyday. To have your heart and brain scratched at and tortured by it when you do.
So please, someone, anyone out there who can and is willing to take this thing off my hands knowing full well what it is - just DM me. I’ll give it to you at no charge or expense to you. I’ll even dig it out of the ground and drive to where you are (if you’re on the island that is) so you don’t have to get up and go anywhere. If you’re located somewhere else I’ll happily volunteer to pay all the associated shipping costs at my own expense as well in order to get it to you.
You’ll be my knight in shining armor if you do.
UPDATE: I am no longer in need of anyone to take this thing and these seeds off my hands. Thank you to the person that DMed me after I posted this. I got your email confirming that it safely arrived at your address as well. Also, glad to hear it’s grown another root. By glad, I mean that I am glad to know that it has grown yet again but this time I haven’t noticed anything changing. You have no idea what you’ve done to help salvage my sanity. Bless you.
submitted by Screaming_Mosquito to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]
I grew up originally in Northern California near Mt. Shasta, and four years ago I moved to the Big Island of Hawaii after I got a new job working for the university located in Hilo as an adjunct. The search for a place to rent where I could garden in the backyard took a while, but the wait was worth it. Gardening is like comfort food for my soul, and always has been ever since I was a little girl. My mom brought me up doing it, and I took to it immediately when I was just 3 or 4 she always liked to remind me.
I suppose the reason I wanted to leave California was the fact that she wasn't there anymore, that the last piece or vestige of my family was gone and I was all that was left of the life we used to have out there. I remember the day everything was packed up for the movers and ready to go, I walked outside to wait for a friend to pick me up to take me to the airport. As I sat there on my porch, I saw an elderly man walking in front of my front yard. It was an old friend of my mom's from the neighborhood. He had been very kind to me at her funeral as he had just lost his wife himself. We both waved at each other and I got up to chat with him one last time.
As it turned out, he was there to give me a going away present. It was a batch of strange seeds in a small sack. Some were colored burgundy, others indigo, and still others ivory with fascinating patterns on them. In total, there were 19 by my count. He said that before his wife passed away, she had originally intended to give them to my mom. Apparently, during one of their hiking trips around the mountain, the two of them kept stopping to see if someone was following them. Every time they would, some tree would rustle or a bush would make a quick, sharp noise indicating some sort of disturbance. Towards the end of their hike, they stopped one final time only for them to turn around and notice that someone had left this dingy little sack of seeds on a rotted out tree stump they had just passed. In other words, there was no question at that point that they had been followed.
For what reason? He couldn't say, though obviously the implication was that whoever it was wanted them to have these seeds. His wife died soon after that, before she could pass them along to my mother. He said he was hesitant to part with them after she died, but felt extremely guilty having waited too long to give them to my mom. Now that I was heading to Hawaii, he thought he ought to just give them to me instead of continuing to keep them. Other than that, he told me to be very careful with them, to specifically pour them out into the ground from the sack instead of touching them myself. And I wondered why. Like it's such an oddly specific thing to bring up about them.
Regardless.
I took them gratefully and thanked him for the gift and said that my mother would have loved them. Now, I'm not so sure she would have.
It was only a week or so after I had finally unpacked everything in my new place that I decided to garden again. And the first thing I planted, of course, were the seeds once meant for my mom. In memory of her. It was only one I put in the ground because honestly I wasn’t exactly sure how big this thing was going to grow to be. I wasn’t even sure what exactly this thing was even going to grow to be either. Turns out, it’s a vegetable… of some kind. I think. It’s almost like a yam? Like with the same texture and everything but with bright orange skin… and fur in strange places? Also, another thing, it’s like a yam but at the time of writing this it has most definitely grown beyond the size of a typical yam. Basically it’ll increase in size every week or so by a half a foot by my measure. Also, every time it grows by that much, another bulbous root pops out and burrows itself beneath.
And oh yeah there are little blue flowers (or what I guess you could call flowers) growing out of little nooks and crannies and just random spots all over. I’m not sure what to say. I have yet to identify it. If one of you reading this can, then good for you, would you like to take it off my hands in that case? Please? Okay well, I guess I better finally explain why I want this damn thing out of here. I’ve already ostracized myself at work trying to get people to take it, as well as trying to explain what makes me hate the thing, so what harm will come from making a bunch of internet strangers think I’m creepy or crazy?
The black and white of it is that every time this thing grows a half a foot, every time another root plants itself in the ground, every time another one of those little blue flower buds appears on it, something changes. About the world we live in. About our history. About how we live day to day. And no one seems to notice any of the changes except for me. Today in fact, I almost got into a fatal car crash after I woke up and took note of a new flower bud growing on the side of it facing my house. If you put a Bible in front of me and made me swear to God that I was going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I would swear on that, my life, and my late mother’s grave that I grew up knowing that Americans in all 50 states drive on the left side of the road.
I know you’re probably laughing at me. Because that’s what the person I almost ran into did when I told them. They wanted to know if I was British or something, and I said no I was born and raised in Northern California all my life. The closest I’ve ever even been to a foreign country is San Diego. But when I pulled over after that scare and looked it up on my phone, there it was. Americans drive on the right side of the road and pretty much always have. It’s just so… jarring. I have vivid memories of me death gripping the wheel to my mom’s Wrangler for the first time in my life, with her in the passenger seat teaching me the rules of the road for the first time. And I remember very clearly her telling me that no matter where I go in the United States or Canada, if I ever did that is, I would be on the left side of the road the entire time.
And I remember everyone else driving on the left side too. I remember them doing it yesterday. And now, everyone’s acting like it’s actually been this other way the entire time and that I’m somehow just noticing it. But I’m not “just noticing” it. It changed without warning me, to my abject frustration. This is what my life has been like since I planted it. I remember when it first sprouted. When I first started noticing the changes. The very first one I encountered were the changes made to the American flag. Again, swearing to God, on my own life, and on my late mother’s grave, I can attest that the American flag has always had 13, red and white, diagonal stripes. Not horizontal. Diagonal.
Again, I remember vividly sitting Indian style around our 1st grade teacher as she taught us some of the most basic history of the Revolutionary War. Particularly when it came to the Betsy Ross story. I remember being told that, when Betsy Ross first showed George Washington her initial design for the flag that it did indeed have horizontal stripes just like the one I suppose all of you are familiar with. But at the last second, he had her change them to be diagonal because he wanted to convey that the United States did not intend to be an empire in which some states would be perceived to be dominating the others by being “on top”. Making the stripes diagonal, to him, avoided this undesired symbolism.
I remember it all so clearly, even the little kitschy cartoon drawings in our school books of him with Betsy Ross as she showed him the final design. I remember reading about it in middle and high school. Hell, I even remember writing a 13 page essay for US History I in college that dealt with the subject. The paper of course, along with any historical record or proof of this detailed memory (digital or otherwise), is nowhere I can find it. It’s as if God or something turned the whole world into one big Wikipedia article and began editing reality at random with no one reverting the changes.
If you don’t think I’m crazy yet, then maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. When I noticed the plant had grown its eighth root, I learned for the first time in my life that Richard Nixon resigned over the Watergate scandal and not for having been outed as having had a nearly decade long affair with both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy at the same time as I thought I had been taught. I hadn’t even heard the term Watergate before that. In fact, I learned at the same exact time that apparently for decades since, the affix -gate had been attached to various other scandals and controversies as though it were a naming convention. Until that eighth root planted itself firmly in the ground, I had never once seen or heard of something like that before.
The day I noticed the very first flower to bloom on it, was the same day I found out there’s this little place near Long Island and New Jersey you may have heard of called New York City. You see, to me, that place has always been (and always will be in my mind as I cling onto what I know to be the truth) New Ithaca. Frank Sinatra’s famous song that is played every year on New Year’s Eve, has always been about the great city of New Ithaca, the Big Apple. The changes are just so weird and particular too. The whole general history of that city and state has remains the same though (at least to me), being that it was founded by the Dutch but was taken by the British and renamed before becoming a part of the United States. Only, instead the place was previously named New North Brabant whereas I suppose you have always known that New York used to be New Amsterdam.
There’s even a song about that bit of trivia, I learned. Catchy, and also cringe inducing for someone like me going through what I’m going through.
Actually the overwhelming bulk of changes have had to do with place names. Again growing up, I had it beaten into my brain that in 1492 Columbus sailed the Pacific blue. You heard that right. The vast puddle you probably call the Atlantic Ocean has always been the Pacific to me. And vice versa. Nebraska was a name I had not ever heard of before I measured another half foot in that damn thing’s already enormous length. To me that place was called the State of Fillmore. If before I measured it to be at 3 feet, you had asked me to point out Paris on a map, I would have stared at you blankly until I realized you probably meant to say Degaulleville which was built just northeast of the ruins of the ill-fated City of Lights after it was used as a testing ground for Germany’s most devastating weapon of WWII - the nuclear bomb.
Apparently in this new world the plant has created for me, it is our country that has the dubious honor of being the first military in the world to use nuclear weapons in an actual war.
And the list of changes I have just goes on and on like that. I’m not going to waste time spelling them all out for you. I’m sure that should be enough for you to at least hear me out or dismiss me as having had a break with reality. All I want now is this thing in my backyard, and these seeds to boot, out of here. Like I said in the beginning, I’d throw it away, but now that I suspect there’s some sort of link between it and all these changes being made, I worry what it could do to me if I yanked it out of the ground and chucked it into a dumpster. Degaulleville, Fillmore, etc. were erased by this thing. I could be too, if I made it mad enough.
There’s another part of me, a selfish part, that hopes if someone else takes it they can be the ones to have all these changes happen to instead. They can be the ones to watch desperately as what you once knew to be true, to be there, to be real, is all ground up and thrown away like it was nothing to bend your reality and leave you as the only one aware of it. I want that to happen to someone else instead of me. I want to be the one who’s oblivious to the changes made in the fabric and window dressings of reality. I want to be the one who reads the complaints and desperate cries of someone like me, and calls them crazy. I want want want that.
There’s another, tinier part of me, that naively hopes once I can leave this thing with someone else, it will change reality again but this time for the better. For the better, for me. Maybe once it starts affecting someone else adversely, it can change reality one more time to make my mom come back. To come back in a way that would make me forget she was ever gone. And then maybe I can go home, go back to the life I was used to living. But I know at the same time, there’s absolutely no reason it would do something nice like that for me.
Hell, if anything, it could decide to make things in reality, history, etc. worse for everyone including me. Like let me think… Okay for example, remember back in 1999 when everyone was afraid of the Y2K bug, but then it turned out to not be such a catastrophic ordeal as people were predicting? That damn plant could change things to make it so that Y2K’s catastrophic potential was fulfilled. Or wait, here’s a more recent example - remember like three or so years ago when there was that weird disease in China all the schools and governments got freaked out about for two weeks, warning about having to do lockdowns and stuff like that only for the Chinese government to successfully contain it before it could leave its shores?
I’d imagine the plant could change that history as well. And it’s not like I want any of that to happen, it’s just that I have little to no control over whether or not it will. And I just want to be free from being the only one to know it’s all happening. To notice it everyday. To have your heart and brain scratched at and tortured by it when you do.
So please, someone, anyone out there who can and is willing to take this thing off my hands knowing full well what it is - just DM me. I’ll give it to you at no charge or expense to you. I’ll even dig it out of the ground and drive to where you are (if you’re on the island that is) so you don’t have to get up and go anywhere. If you’re located somewhere else I’ll happily volunteer to pay all the associated shipping costs at my own expense as well in order to get it to you.
You’ll be my knight in shining armor if you do.
UPDATE: I am no longer in need of anyone to take this thing and these seeds off my hands. Thank you to the person that DMed me after I posted this. I got your email confirming that it safely arrived at your address as well. Also, glad to hear it’s grown another root. By glad, I mean that I am glad to know that it has grown yet again but this time I haven’t noticed anything changing. You have no idea what you’ve done to help salvage my sanity. Bless you.
2023.06.07 16:05 infra-greige Flower essences for procrastination and getting stuff done
We all procrastinate at some point. Something about mundane tasks just sparks an irresistible urge to avoid them at all costs. But it can also lead to stress and anxiety, reduced quality of work, chaotic environments, strained relationships, and loss of free time.
Flower essences can help in the short term while you’re working on addressing any long-term or lifestyle issues causing the procrastination. If there is an underlying disorder such as ADHD, depression, etc., then conventional treatments may be necessary.
However, if your procrastination is due to mental, emotional, or energetic blocks, essences can be a great tool for overcoming inertia and getting you moving!
As always, you may find similar essences from these makers or other makers not listed; these are only a few suggestions. Hope this list is helpful!
Activ-8 Formula (made by the FES company): An excellent blend of 8 flowers for getting activated and moving (this does contain essential oils so you may prefer to use it as an 'aura' spray around the head)
Blackberry (FES, Spirit-in-Nature): for putting ideas into action and overcoming inertia
Blue China Orchid (Living Essences of Australia): breaking self-destructive patterns, strengthening the will
Bouvardia (Desert Alchemy): fortifies the will to confront life directly
Cayenne (FES): cutting through stagnation or indecision, fiery and energetic mobility, a personal fave!
Coconut (Spirit-in-Nature): for an avoidance attitude, quitting, trouble with consistency
Golden Waitsia (Living Essences): perfectionism, over-worrying about the details
Hornbeam (Bach, Healing Herbs): for lack of energy due to emotional resistance to work or chores
Loquat (South African): fearing the demands of life, escaping by withdrawing, oversleeping, etc.
Madia (FES): for disciplined focus and concentration, becoming easily distracted or spacey, centering
Pink Trumpet Flower (Living Essences): clarity, focus, directing inner strength to goals
Purple Flag Flower (Living Essences): reduces sense of pressure if too tense/anxious to be productive
Rabbitbrush (FES): feeling overwhelmed by details or the jumble of events that need attention
Red Beak Orchid (Living Essences): for conflict between desires and responsibilities
Scarlet Morning Glory (Desert Alchemy): helps us get going, focus, making potentials into reality
Spanish Bayonet Yucca (Desert Alchemy): for indecisiveness, hesitation, fear in facing challenges
Sticky Geranium (Alaskan): for feeling stuck, lethargic, procrastinating, resistance to moving forward
Sundew (Australian Bush): for daydreaming, feeling disconnected or spaced out
--
What are your thoughts on essences for getting things done?
submitted by infra-greige to FlowerEssences [link] [comments]
Flower essences can help in the short term while you’re working on addressing any long-term or lifestyle issues causing the procrastination. If there is an underlying disorder such as ADHD, depression, etc., then conventional treatments may be necessary.
However, if your procrastination is due to mental, emotional, or energetic blocks, essences can be a great tool for overcoming inertia and getting you moving!
As always, you may find similar essences from these makers or other makers not listed; these are only a few suggestions. Hope this list is helpful!
Activ-8 Formula (made by the FES company): An excellent blend of 8 flowers for getting activated and moving (this does contain essential oils so you may prefer to use it as an 'aura' spray around the head)
Blackberry (FES, Spirit-in-Nature): for putting ideas into action and overcoming inertia
Blue China Orchid (Living Essences of Australia): breaking self-destructive patterns, strengthening the will
Bouvardia (Desert Alchemy): fortifies the will to confront life directly
Cayenne (FES): cutting through stagnation or indecision, fiery and energetic mobility, a personal fave!
Coconut (Spirit-in-Nature): for an avoidance attitude, quitting, trouble with consistency
Golden Waitsia (Living Essences): perfectionism, over-worrying about the details
Hornbeam (Bach, Healing Herbs): for lack of energy due to emotional resistance to work or chores
Loquat (South African): fearing the demands of life, escaping by withdrawing, oversleeping, etc.
Madia (FES): for disciplined focus and concentration, becoming easily distracted or spacey, centering
Pink Trumpet Flower (Living Essences): clarity, focus, directing inner strength to goals
Purple Flag Flower (Living Essences): reduces sense of pressure if too tense/anxious to be productive
Rabbitbrush (FES): feeling overwhelmed by details or the jumble of events that need attention
Red Beak Orchid (Living Essences): for conflict between desires and responsibilities
Scarlet Morning Glory (Desert Alchemy): helps us get going, focus, making potentials into reality
Spanish Bayonet Yucca (Desert Alchemy): for indecisiveness, hesitation, fear in facing challenges
Sticky Geranium (Alaskan): for feeling stuck, lethargic, procrastinating, resistance to moving forward
Sundew (Australian Bush): for daydreaming, feeling disconnected or spaced out
--
What are your thoughts on essences for getting things done?
2023.06.07 16:03 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
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★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
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⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
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⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
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⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
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★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
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★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
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★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
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★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
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WEAPONS
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AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
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AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
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Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
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2023.06.07 15:20 Bogey4hoo 'Surving The Win' - Chapter 009B.
'Faze'.
At the, "Dere-Licht," Manor, upon the Steps of the Stairs, a Smoked Pipe was placed. In the very Centre of the Meeting Hall (the Room off to the Side from the Bottom of the Stairwell), there was another one, as well. Okay well, throughout the entire building... More like, a GREAT number!
Avem had them placed all throughout that Rebuilt Old Character House, and within that Glorified Mansion, there were Smoked Pipes, In and On Cupboards, Resting Upon Windowsills (with the Drapes Pulled or Left Open), upon Countertops, Hidden Inside of Bookshelves (if not Resting Upon them), of course on the Mantle, Hidden In and Around Corners.. at Every End, Above and Slightly Adjacent to Entrances, and even some, which were included upon the Tabletops...
All of these Smoking Pipes, some with Ashen Remainders in them, some only Constructed Models of, what we imagine, would have been kept for their Interest Sake, were watched by a Careful Set-Up, of Video Surveillance.
The Surveillance, Signaled Hanging Display Monitors, all throughout the House, and also at Avem's Lab in Tokyo. Some of these Monitors, were Hanging from the Ceiling, at the Walls, Facing Down and Into the Rooms. Others, in the Bedrooms, were Level with Sitting Chairs, where one might want to Sit Down and Look At Them.
They were Set Up, Primarily, To Catch Every Angle and Motion of Light or Shadow Upon or Within the Pipes. This Recording of Smoked Rememberances, took place Every Night and Day, from the Rising to the Setting of the Sun, all Throughout the Years. What were the Ashes for?
…
Granny Smith, he yelled. I'm telling you! She didn't believe him one bit. And you pretend you weren't looking for me!?...
She interrogated him fearsomely. Do you know who I am???
Do you know who I am, "Roared," Perry, back at her, bleakly. He was terrified. Though, he somehow managed to pull off a tone, which mirrored her own, with mock mavery.
Down the hall, there was a beep. Close the door, Swarma commanded, looking out through the interrogation Room's Exit. There was the sound of a, "fwoosh," and a, "click," outside of it. Nobody had been at the Exit, either to push or to pull it's heavy door, closed. There was also no telling, of where that other door might be. She took a swab and daubed Perry with it quickly, before leaving. Wait right here, she cackled, smiling a leerily-wisening old grin, as she left him to total.
What's doing this to you? shrieked Ren. June had actually been, in all fact, sobbing and in dread. Her body, becoming purple, as it was, "cast," with some thick layer of unknown chrysoform, which continued to cover her in variegating patches, no matter how much she scratched or peeled. It seemed to keep leaking out from her pores in beads, which coalesced over her skin, recombined, and matted. Heaving, she threw a chunk at the Vending Machine.
She was sitting in Emergency, having just made it through Triage. These are for you, said the Faithful and Believing, Catholic Lady Friend of Wells, who passed her some Pamphlets from the Lecture.
The Professor had stopped everything, to see to it that this kind Lady, would bring Juniper to ER, post-haste. June had brought Ren along as a Study Buddy, for Note-Taking, with a Bribe.
Initially, June went out to the Mountains, to collect Perry's belongings from the Rented Cabin. Upon arriving back in town, both she and Ren decided to Drive out to the College for a Lecture, and to Sight-See, while asking people around the Area if they had Seen or Heard from Perry. Could he be haunting her somewhere? Was there any hope?
Although... the Professor HAD, abruptly interrupted his Lecture to find one of his CPR-trained staff to escort Juniper to the nearby Hospital E.R., in the event that she might not make it there herself, and was, "Truly," facing a Medical Crisis.
The Vending Machine, went lame, and the lights in ER flickered for a moment. I'm getting creeped, said Ren. That's all!
June's problem stemmed back, from when she ate the Oatmeal, which Perry had left behind at the Cabin, while she was inside it, looking at a Newspaper and Doodling.
Some of Avem's Team, had been in the Trails previously, and Driven a Snowmobile through them, tracing Chemicals through the Snow. A or Spoken Split. It had been at just one of her Lab's Testing Zones.
Avem had caught onto Perry, first, when her Voice Exploded from a Crackling Ice Wyrm/ “i”’Sāqa-Šaqqa, in the Cabin's Fireplace.
Avem had been Writing her Vocals into the Chemical Strains of the Ice-Wyrm Constituency Potion, which she concocted in her Lab, and Spread Rumours about, then Codifying it with Automatic Cyber-Sentience Response-Forms, which took initiatives, based on Environmental Factors, and in turn, fed back Information. This Data, was made readable by her Reverse Tonic, which Tabulated it, by Codices, which had Variables in her own Mental Inter-Framing. Cog-Notes, if you will, to her own Cognition. All of, these, Variables, which entered her Consideration, let her Pry, both on Known, and Unknown, Territories. She frequently Drank her Cyber-Tonic from a Vial in her Lab, while going over Her Work.
Perry Wheeled, and Stumbled around the Room, trying to avoid the Icicle Firecrackers, which were Sounding Off whenever he Slid and/or Stepped upon them. He'd apparently been Mega-Dosed, and was now about to Learn what in the World of a Mega-Dosed, Felt Like when Under and In It.
The Wyrms were Sounding Off, in an Acoustics Array, and Perry, Bounded and Rebounded Turning Listless as the Chrysalids Exited him, and Becoming Reinterred into Motion Again, by their Sounds. He was now, well... Not Feeling Like a Perry. That and he was Done, Done, and, "Roared," out. He could No Longer even Find his Own Vocal to Bless How He Felt. Avem came back in, when the Turnabout was Over. She had Observed Perry by a Camera Hidden in the Room, which was Hooked up to her Monitors for Surveillance, as well. Turning on a Ventilation Fan, from outside, which led the Room's Air into a Separate Chamber, she had Two People, Dressed in Dark Robes, walk in, and move Perry back to his Chair, now Limp. They Swept Up, the Remaining Crystalline Deciduates, and Drains Opened, which Took the Little Bit of Liquidine Debris, Out of the Room. Perry, was now Toned.
Swarma, Placed her Hand on his Forehead, at First to Take his Temperature, and then, Mentally Calibrating his Vocal Remembrance within Herself, Uttered a Word to him, While he sat Slumped over the Chair, Catatonic. The Word.
And Therein, may be a Key... His Subconscious Mind, would most certainly Remember. She Had Uttered It, in His Very Own Vocal Tone. Why? It Rendered him Cognizant and Triggered His Mentality, as though His Own... Though, Truly?... Her Own.
Perry was allowed, with the other Time Wraiths as escort, to slowly move around the Manor and familiarize himself with it. He was being taught by them, how to remain very still for long periods of time. Many of the Time Wraiths, were flown out to the Lab down in Tokyo, to use the computers on their Night-Watch Network. The Lab there, housed her prized Hua Niu ("Black Diamond") Apple, Bonsai, kept under specialized lighting, plus numerous other artefacts. It was set up like somewhat of a Museum, with one dimly lit, humming room for computer observancy, which apart from Monitor glare, left much to the realm of the keen observer.
The 34, often formed a Large Pentagram, with two people at each of the five elemental points, two people between each elemental point encompassing, two people between each elemental point intersecting, two people in the very centre, and two people encircling round about. Underneath them, was stone masonwork in black basalt, and a large star outline, traced with gold inlay.
A chandelier hung above them, and the room had an overview of the gated entrance, where birds were often seen in trees, and light could pour in, but at night, the glass of these windows turned sheet-black to buffet them in, high enough up that none might peep.
By no commotion of ceremony, the participants would stand and hear the NicNeven recite her Canon address. The fruits her Science had yielded, sounded in the Hall, and into their collective memory, which disbanded when they did, after she read from her book.
The book, made from gene paper, was their Canon, and this... only a meeting hall. Despite its congressional form, summons were not of sell out to World Teachings. She ranked as their Science-elected, matriarch, of mental-modernity, by the facet of old typings and tyings, to, "new," teachings.
Ruminations from the fruits of her labwork, thereat would be discussed. For if nobody would have them, they most certainly would. Then, and only then, would the lines be codographed (some of the Night-Watch, were also very good hackers). They were secretly culted-over, but by few, and their practicum bore method, not mere devotion. The team were, "Nec-Will'O’Mancer"-affiliate.
An Addendum/Add-On on The Hadena/Gaudy Hadibi/Gift, Out Of Hades/Hell, by Hoodoo (Through Sinter Croft Sinchery, or, alleged Ho-Doctorate).
~ In Other Words: The Elaborately Sinched False-Label on Tobacco Smoke. ~
…
That It Came From, Túḫ-ḫa-a-iz-zi: "To Produce Smoke."
A Variant Of This Hittite Language Word (In Imperative Plural), Is, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
Because, 'Tuh': Means to, "Pour"/"Give Birth"/"Lay Eggs"/"Touha (Which, implies, by, "Desire")," And/Or, "Tuha," https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuh
This, As Well As, 'Tuhh': "Thousand"/"Grand"/"Tonn,” by the Proponent of Measure. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuhh
&
... 'Tuha': "Tuba." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/туъһа
Where, ... 'Tuba' (Malay Language): Is a, "Poison That Is Made Out Of Root." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuba
Plus, it’s, 'Tuba' (Malay Language), Gives "Duva (Fijian Language),"
For 'Dūbǭ' (Dutch Language): https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Reconstruction:Proto-Germanic/dūbǭ * 'Dūbǭ', Can Mean, "Dove." *
Thus, “Height.” Though, Holy Spirit (Or Prayers) still, “Intemn”/”Imprison,” you as Indebted by Material Snare (Karmic-Causal Renditions), if not off of it.
…
~ After Tuh, Which Too, Is Tuha.. And Tuha, Which With Tuhh, Is Thousand.. ~
... Kamba Language: "Andu,” for, “Mundu."
• Making, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
The Reason Why, Is Because,
"Andu (Kamba Language)": "Mundu,"
And "Mundu (Kamba Language)": "A Man,"
When,
"Mʊ̀ntʊ̀ (Proto-Bantu Language)": "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
And "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
When Translated To Nyasa, Chichewa Language: "Chinthu."
This Last Addition Indicates The
Which Would Be The World, If Not By Dove-Letterate.
What did you have me on? Some sort of Cerelium Slick? El, in Perry, broke out bawling. Something so licentious that I can’t tell I’m licked. HaHa.
His stupor adored him with affection, and he had a hammering affectation from it. It caused him to clout his knowing, though only briefly.
Perry came through, yamming… I’m looking back on days of Candy Cloaker Gobstoppers! You mean you literally had me erased… or, where am I?
You Hide no Burger, in Finding Fries, Perald. Daytime is where I have you.
At that, there had been an unconventional or out-of-the-norm convening, where not-an-one of all the attendants had-in, to agree, "We are Necropolitan"... Though, their greed to know, would grow.
Perry led himself back in, looking for his girlfriend, strangely feeling sold out of his nut.
…
Ironically, it was just at that point that Juniper had made it there. She too was undergoing her thought detexturing, “rinse,” that is, the opposite of any detox, after looking like a Raisin May's, “In.”
This was to be the, “Turnabout (a new Ceremony was declared by Avem’s Host in Relative-Caster Company, and held somewhat like a House Party).”
A $9,000.00 Maitland Smith Dollhouse Bar Cabinet, was off in isolated room of the newly Renovated Manor, with a load of Porcelain Dolls and cameras to watch it.
That room was off limits.
Juniper had had it in her know long afore, in dream. Now to hack Avem… oh, where?
…
"Osa," circuit of my air... How can, "I," enfold you? Swarma asked, with a vestitude, which only, behooved to surmise her, with surreptitious guiltiness of paridyllic refrain.
She, “The NicNeven,” winked meaningfully, holding an extremely rare pipe up, skyward.
The Time Wraiths all sat, in their, “F”arm-Ended Theatre apart from the once-Ballroom.
Quieting down, it was in their circle that a cast occurred, but in truth they were no relative summoners and Avem’s Mafia had elected them afresh.
That is… that as they were all a, somewhat afraid and eerily sketched out, “Fresh Crop,” yet and though, she would in fact, have them richly afforded, in Good Time.
…
Avem’s Mafia had sent the former Nec-Will’O’Mancers over to her Manor for the Renovations.
Avem, then, was Crowned, “Accorded,” and the Newly Selected Time Wraiths, could be Trained.
Avem’s Clue In, in her new Role, while in her old Manor seemed to live in it’s espies.
I mean, they must have had her drugged for the whole house to be enchanted, somehow, but the only question is who set it up, and when?
One of her clues, came from a former Nec-Will’O’Mancer silently shadow-encoaching a novice approved in the group, by his far larger boding of path had, in-the-off. She heard the man in her head as well, ruling that Smith had to explore her ties in the Mafia, through rank, a second time, and thus a later, termed-submission as a right of accession, had been officed.
She, once again (the man went over in his mind) being indoctrinated into Mafia rank, though slowly, because her freedom-release methods, were her own merital device, and she needed a longer time to work at them.
Avem, had canned herself intentionally, to stay at a head, but nobody fully knew, how it was done.
Reptilian Mind Control.
-‐-
How could that be?
Look to the Wind, and we shall ride. ~ "Phantom Riding The Whip," where one is not standing on top of a vehicle, but rather, riding over a different type of, "Whip," as a, "Phantom-Circuit." ~
"Now we admonish," they recited.
"Peace be," stated the NicNeven. She inhaled from the lit pipe.
They all, “doned,” her infuriatingness, with amicability.
Now yes, your highest love, and what’s our gift they forecried, awaiting something.
Not of in an any Dib of forgery… You will undoubtedly see. She canned.
Please don’t mess us or master us mental, Avem, one girl joked, admitting the kind dark lair WAS weird.
That's Missus, Avem relegated ghasting.
…
Now, I have here the document they stole it from, a man entering the room said. He read aloud,
The remains of a, "chicote"/"cigar butt"/"cigarette butt."
The Nec-Will'O'Mancers, then stated in unison, reading off of the pamphlets they'd previously been handed out, though in a less clear-and-determined tone, or well (it seemed), in a way that hummed and wandered.
"... Far l'fo, Ho glow. How we sway. How does a hard tar, Lie her thieu, In a chi, icy high..."?
When they were finished reciting, the man continued speaking.
By, "sukunai," "少ない," the man continued in Japanese… a word, which means, "few or little," with the root word, "少し ("すこし," "sukoshi").""
Avem exhaled. "The synonym for, which is, "chotto," she said. So yes... in other words? "A little." "ちょっと ("chotto")," may I add, it has a root word in the adverb, "chito..." "... "ちと ("chito")," as in, "slightly," "a little," "a bit," or, "somewhat," where, "ち ("chi," means, “small”)," and, "と ("to," is an adverbial particle). "と ("to")," is also a noun, which is short for, "と金 (tokin)," which will now indicate a promoted, "歩兵 ("fuhyō," or, "pawn”)," that, "moves," like a, "金将 ("kinshō," or, “gold general”).""
Thus, what might have been inferred, perhaps, was that a, "Chicote," in a pipe, was, more or less, alike unto a, "Chi Chót," if it did indeed implicate such.
A, "Chót," of course, meaning something at the, "Bottom," "Lowest Extremity," or, "End," of something, and from there, or at that point, perhaps even then moving forward.
Chicote, apart from being a form of Tobacco, was also, in all truth, a form of, "Whip," known for being a Scourge, in places like the Congo.
The NicNeven, had already caught wise to this, and also how, this form of Tobacco, may have had it's own "Xicohtli (a Nahuatl word, for, "Bumblebee")."
I guess, what needed to be said most (as a nod to the Indigenous People), was that they were good to hold a Peace over the Herb, and also Bow...
Some people may have needed a Peace Blessed over them, knowing the Nature of how all Words exist with ties to Power.
…
This time, however, she was not merely dreaming with the pipe. She aimed to begin work on something more pivotal. Holding her peace, over them, as though the Time Wraiths had not, in fact, been led by her to keep a different mindset, themselves, she kept them aware, of the part of her mind they were let in by.
A part, they would not be able to share. When inhaling, she did so with a strickening wind, through sympathetic diacords and resonance fields, and from a region locked onto by the Time Wraiths collective awareness. The NicNeven (we presume, remaining silent somewhere at the top of an, "imaginary," but quite irregal, circuit of Heaven, and with her pipe), had her whole lot hidden safely away, and blessed unseen.
She, "wind-let," her chosen remote area, with the pipe, from a distance, as though it were a whip and a scourge, creating yet another (this time stronger), bane.
Her smoke summons, were such that, she hoped to collect and open them, one day, as a portal, to dawn on the World.
As for the pipe vision. This one was well formed. She might have make a centrepiece of it, on table somewhere.
Many of them, rested on glass plates, with glass cases overtop. After their Surveillance Circuit had run, "Ash-Line Data," or, "Pipe Particle Intel," was fed through a Computer on the Ash-Configuracy, Analysis-Observancy Program, of the, 'Night-Watch Circuit', of the, "Time Wraiths"-Network, and for a Number of Reasons...
One, being that the Data, would often be used to reproduce these, "In-Pipe Visions," as, "Viable Product-for-Sale ("Furnishings from the, "Furnace,"" so-to-speak)," and so they needed a Good Record of Analysis kept for Reproduction. "Pipe Reproductions," would be made using more Durable Materials, and Non-Smokable Materials. The Data, would also allow the group to Configure Predictions of Ash-Shift, with a Matrix, once Measurements and Variables were Plugged into an appropriate Coded Program Logarithm, which helped them see, potential Shift Patterns, which may yet arise. The Furnishings, were to be kept as Permanent Pipes... Artefacts, for the Mansion, and Museum, of Swarma.
'Necrolith Spectre'. ~ The NicNeven's, "Necrolith Spectre," had a very real premise. She, had drawn Chi through her Summon of Feiz, by a Fix. ~
"Chi (# 14)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E3%81%A1
"Summon ("Korean," Language)": 徴 https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E5%BE%B4#Japanese
"Feiz ("Zhuang," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/feiz#Zhuang
"Fix ("Bouyei," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fix
Andrew wrote obscurely,
My thought is that the Jinwen Bian, Bronze Inscription, of, "Fá (in the Mandarin Language)," ties itself over to, "Fät (in the "Volapük," Language)," and thus relates to, "Fate," and, "Karma."
"Fat (in the Cantonese Language)," means, "Buddha," and is related to, "Fá (in Mandarin)," while, "Fät (in the Voläpuk Language)," is characteristic of, "Buddhist Philosophy."
Does anyone else see the Structure of the Modern, "Wheel," in the Mandarin, "Fá?" - A.W.T. (November 18th, 2020).
‘A, “Marrow Vin Gean”’.
The Holy Spirit Sword cuts through to the Marrow. This is intended to mean that it is versatile. Only, more to the point, that it is not intended for vice.
How this happens, is that it has verses, in tandem occurrence, operating in relevant reflection, on Scripture, and is designed to heal. That is… before having thought of attack or rendering anyone ineffectual.
Wisdom from Jesus, in Scripture, teaches us, that, without Doctrinal relevance, and Revelation, we live on a Dying Planet and cause it.
~ Falling out of our mouths, if I may add. ~ The tongue is a venomous instrument, which apart from destroying, needs to be bridled with Scriptural Truth and or the Gospel, or healing falls away from what we know of vital spirit, sowing, growing, engrafting, and planning.
However picking up on any dead line of “Prayer Chain (for things truly are, by introspection, a righteously bidden, divine godly judgement's in of how to live by a planetary Monodeism and not just by correspondence, but mainly faith in Him),” to help, Christianly, defeat the death of the soul. [Angelic parameters, of what’s barred, of course had in, or it’s out a’barren]
Marrow is where the Blood Cells are created before reaching the Circulatory System.
This is in the bone.
Luz is the Catholic-Bidden Vertebrae/Spinal Column Bone for Resurrection.
As Jesus commands one to Live or the Tree not to grow for being of ill time, Our lines have a prayer solvency to that line of fess, by the Vin, or vine, and gean or Spirit.
However, Merovingeans are babylonian Dragon order. We needed it bidden less graven.
Made of Heaven, wise, the sword knows the hairs on the heads of the utilizers and counting unequal, may perform.
That is, off for bolder lead, and even balded for baring, out of the Worker’s Parable of God’s Constance and Unequal Nature, bearers of it's Fire, may see, and do oft’ find some in their know, of the Church Hold on Word.
Obvious?
This is the Rate Of Pay, in the Vineyard Parable, of the Workers who worked (un-in Mammon), for their Lord (Christ), earlier, and then some other, later (ie. When, in Truth, found bidden in and by Him, a fair constant is maintained, no matter World Climate, in the Fellowship), for and not toward, the forever, for they may not be bidden.
God unriddled.
Jesus, is the Amen in Revelations 3:14, He Ransoms Believers Souls, through Self Sacrifice and Sovereign Service, his father, created and lawed through the covenants, and the commandments, and owned all heaven host and hierarch, and the Holy Spirit, Blessed the Way.
'On What Could Have Been'.
An expensive matryoshka was brought in for Ralph to look at...
He received the package at his Estate, and had a hard time with his spectacles, adjusting them trying to read the fine print.
The brown paper parcel, with white sticker, opened to a smaller purple gift box, within it. The gift box was about the size of an order of chow mein, and from within the lilac tissue paper inside, was a golden doll. Andrei, Fu, and Evelyn, had driven back and were now seated around Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, here it is, he stated. No word of who it's from, not to mention that I'm not working anymore.
Is it another antique asked Andrei?
Yes, and well, I think it is, replied the Senior, but the thing is, I don't know how to open it. It's a Matryoshka or Russian Nesting Doll, and this one is rather expensive, but the Middle Circumference of the Doll has a Twistable-Dial Lock, and I've never known that to be the case before.
Would you wager all the others inside it are like that, too? asked Evelyn. I know what Matryoshkas are, but you're right. This one DOES seem a little bedeviled.
Perhaps said Ralph.
Do you think there is anything inside, asked Fu.
It looks a little weighty. Is it a bomb? Asked Evelyn.
Nobody would bomb a man like Mr. Dizzmith, said Andrei, but just to be on the safe side, I'll look it up. Andrei pulled out his Smart Phone.
Most bombs don't have Passcodes, said Fu. Look, the Passcode is right here on the box.
It says the code can be adjusted and is made to be matrilineal.
This is most definitely a finely-crafted specimen then, but how does it work? asked Ralph.
Well, it looks like every Doll has two turnable dials at the vertical middle, which run horizontal and around the circumference. These are adjusted from within, when open, and numerically set with dates for a passcode, before the top and bottom on each doll are latched, that is. Each doll is secured, around and over the former one, which has been latched or fastened, and each, in so doing, has its dials consecutively scrambled from the outside, before putting the next doll on it. The dolls are hollow, and increase in scale, to fit, while the locks operate by Birth Years of mothers, or rather, daughters. If one Mother or Grandmother, leaves a Sum, in her Will, to the, 'Matryoshka Fund', it will Increase in Interest, and if they send an Heirloom in With the Money, once the Company is Informed of the Birth of the Final Child, they will send the Doll to the Final Child, Heirloom within It. The Family History, and Records are Sent too, as the Locks are Set with Birth Years, of Mothers, in Chronological Order or First to Last, and this Prevents the Wrong Families from Accessing the Contents.
If No Contents, are Sent by the Ancestral Will-Bearer, Gifts-in-Shop, may also be Included, upon Initial Order Selection.
The Company/Fund, occasionally Touches Base with the Families, but this is Less Common.
Who is it for? asked Evelyn.
I have no idea, but there's some Weird Vial in it!
What could it be of, though?
Well, Matryoshka's are generally not compartments, made use of, for containing things, but this appears to be a Vial of Oil.
"Oyle," is a rare name for the Saviour, "Jesus Christ," remarked Andrei.
"Oyle ("Middle English," Language)": # 2.4. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/oyle Maybe an Heiress, then? said Ralph. WHO could she have been?!
submitted by Bogey4hoo to u/Bogey4hoo [link] [comments]
At the, "Dere-Licht," Manor, upon the Steps of the Stairs, a Smoked Pipe was placed. In the very Centre of the Meeting Hall (the Room off to the Side from the Bottom of the Stairwell), there was another one, as well. Okay well, throughout the entire building... More like, a GREAT number!
Avem had them placed all throughout that Rebuilt Old Character House, and within that Glorified Mansion, there were Smoked Pipes, In and On Cupboards, Resting Upon Windowsills (with the Drapes Pulled or Left Open), upon Countertops, Hidden Inside of Bookshelves (if not Resting Upon them), of course on the Mantle, Hidden In and Around Corners.. at Every End, Above and Slightly Adjacent to Entrances, and even some, which were included upon the Tabletops...
All of these Smoking Pipes, some with Ashen Remainders in them, some only Constructed Models of, what we imagine, would have been kept for their Interest Sake, were watched by a Careful Set-Up, of Video Surveillance.
The Surveillance, Signaled Hanging Display Monitors, all throughout the House, and also at Avem's Lab in Tokyo. Some of these Monitors, were Hanging from the Ceiling, at the Walls, Facing Down and Into the Rooms. Others, in the Bedrooms, were Level with Sitting Chairs, where one might want to Sit Down and Look At Them.
They were Set Up, Primarily, To Catch Every Angle and Motion of Light or Shadow Upon or Within the Pipes. This Recording of Smoked Rememberances, took place Every Night and Day, from the Rising to the Setting of the Sun, all Throughout the Years. What were the Ashes for?
…
Granny Smith, he yelled. I'm telling you! She didn't believe him one bit. And you pretend you weren't looking for me!?...
She interrogated him fearsomely. Do you know who I am???
Do you know who I am, "Roared," Perry, back at her, bleakly. He was terrified. Though, he somehow managed to pull off a tone, which mirrored her own, with mock mavery.
Down the hall, there was a beep. Close the door, Swarma commanded, looking out through the interrogation Room's Exit. There was the sound of a, "fwoosh," and a, "click," outside of it. Nobody had been at the Exit, either to push or to pull it's heavy door, closed. There was also no telling, of where that other door might be. She took a swab and daubed Perry with it quickly, before leaving. Wait right here, she cackled, smiling a leerily-wisening old grin, as she left him to total.
She was sitting in Emergency, having just made it through Triage. These are for you, said the Faithful and Believing, Catholic Lady Friend of Wells, who passed her some Pamphlets from the Lecture.
The Professor had stopped everything, to see to it that this kind Lady, would bring Juniper to ER, post-haste. June had brought Ren along as a Study Buddy, for Note-Taking, with a Bribe.
Initially, June went out to the Mountains, to collect Perry's belongings from the Rented Cabin. Upon arriving back in town, both she and Ren decided to Drive out to the College for a Lecture, and to Sight-See, while asking people around the Area if they had Seen or Heard from Perry. Could he be haunting her somewhere? Was there any hope?
Although... the Professor HAD, abruptly interrupted his Lecture to find one of his CPR-trained staff to escort Juniper to the nearby Hospital E.R., in the event that she might not make it there herself, and was, "Truly," facing a Medical Crisis.
The Vending Machine, went lame, and the lights in ER flickered for a moment. I'm getting creeped, said Ren. That's all!
Some of Avem's Team, had been in the Trails previously, and Driven a Snowmobile through them, tracing Chemicals through the Snow. A or Spoken Split. It had been at just one of her Lab's Testing Zones.
Avem had caught onto Perry, first, when her Voice Exploded from a Crackling Ice Wyrm/ “i”’Sāqa-Šaqqa, in the Cabin's Fireplace.
Avem had been Writing her Vocals into the Chemical Strains of the Ice-Wyrm Constituency Potion, which she concocted in her Lab, and Spread Rumours about, then Codifying it with Automatic Cyber-Sentience Response-Forms, which took initiatives, based on Environmental Factors, and in turn, fed back Information. This Data, was made readable by her Reverse Tonic, which Tabulated it, by Codices, which had Variables in her own Mental Inter-Framing. Cog-Notes, if you will, to her own Cognition. All of, these, Variables, which entered her Consideration, let her Pry, both on Known, and Unknown, Territories. She frequently Drank her Cyber-Tonic from a Vial in her Lab, while going over Her Work.
The Wyrms were Sounding Off, in an Acoustics Array, and Perry, Bounded and Rebounded Turning Listless as the Chrysalids Exited him, and Becoming Reinterred into Motion Again, by their Sounds. He was now, well... Not Feeling Like a Perry. That and he was Done, Done, and, "Roared," out. He could No Longer even Find his Own Vocal to Bless How He Felt. Avem came back in, when the Turnabout was Over. She had Observed Perry by a Camera Hidden in the Room, which was Hooked up to her Monitors for Surveillance, as well. Turning on a Ventilation Fan, from outside, which led the Room's Air into a Separate Chamber, she had Two People, Dressed in Dark Robes, walk in, and move Perry back to his Chair, now Limp. They Swept Up, the Remaining Crystalline Deciduates, and Drains Opened, which Took the Little Bit of Liquidine Debris, Out of the Room. Perry, was now Toned.
Swarma, Placed her Hand on his Forehead, at First to Take his Temperature, and then, Mentally Calibrating his Vocal Remembrance within Herself, Uttered a Word to him, While he sat Slumped over the Chair, Catatonic. The Word.
And Therein, may be a Key... His Subconscious Mind, would most certainly Remember. She Had Uttered It, in His Very Own Vocal Tone. Why? It Rendered him Cognizant and Triggered His Mentality, as though His Own... Though, Truly?... Her Own.
A chandelier hung above them, and the room had an overview of the gated entrance, where birds were often seen in trees, and light could pour in, but at night, the glass of these windows turned sheet-black to buffet them in, high enough up that none might peep.
By no commotion of ceremony, the participants would stand and hear the NicNeven recite her Canon address. The fruits her Science had yielded, sounded in the Hall, and into their collective memory, which disbanded when they did, after she read from her book.
The book, made from gene paper, was their Canon, and this... only a meeting hall. Despite its congressional form, summons were not of sell out to World Teachings. She ranked as their Science-elected, matriarch, of mental-modernity, by the facet of old typings and tyings, to, "new," teachings.
Ruminations from the fruits of her labwork, thereat would be discussed. For if nobody would have them, they most certainly would. Then, and only then, would the lines be codographed (some of the Night-Watch, were also very good hackers). They were secretly culted-over, but by few, and their practicum bore method, not mere devotion. The team were, "Nec-Will'O’Mancer"-affiliate.
~ In Other Words: The Elaborately Sinched False-Label on Tobacco Smoke. ~
…
That It Came From, Túḫ-ḫa-a-iz-zi: "To Produce Smoke."
A Variant Of This Hittite Language Word (In Imperative Plural), Is, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
Because, 'Tuh': Means to, "Pour"/"Give Birth"/"Lay Eggs"/"Touha (Which, implies, by, "Desire")," And/Or, "Tuha," https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuh
This, As Well As, 'Tuhh': "Thousand"/"Grand"/"Tonn,” by the Proponent of Measure. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuhh
&
... 'Tuha': "Tuba." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/туъһа
Where, ... 'Tuba' (Malay Language): Is a, "Poison That Is Made Out Of Root." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuba
Plus, it’s, 'Tuba' (Malay Language), Gives "Duva (Fijian Language),"
For 'Dūbǭ' (Dutch Language): https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Reconstruction:Proto-Germanic/dūbǭ * 'Dūbǭ', Can Mean, "Dove." *
Thus, “Height.” Though, Holy Spirit (Or Prayers) still, “Intemn”/”Imprison,” you as Indebted by Material Snare (Karmic-Causal Renditions), if not off of it.
…
~ After Tuh, Which Too, Is Tuha.. And Tuha, Which With Tuhh, Is Thousand.. ~
... Kamba Language: "Andu,” for, “Mundu."
• Making, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
The Reason Why, Is Because,
"Andu (Kamba Language)": "Mundu,"
And "Mundu (Kamba Language)": "A Man,"
When,
"Mʊ̀ntʊ̀ (Proto-Bantu Language)": "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
And "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
When Translated To Nyasa, Chichewa Language: "Chinthu."
This Last Addition Indicates The
- "Co."
Which Would Be The World, If Not By Dove-Letterate.
- Jehu, Jehu, He’ish I Say too. *
- Anyhow, the Natives know it by another name. Hope you've enjoyed the Lesson!
His stupor adored him with affection, and he had a hammering affectation from it. It caused him to clout his knowing, though only briefly.
Perry came through, yamming… I’m looking back on days of Candy Cloaker Gobstoppers! You mean you literally had me erased… or, where am I?
You Hide no Burger, in Finding Fries, Perald. Daytime is where I have you.
At that, there had been an unconventional or out-of-the-norm convening, where not-an-one of all the attendants had-in, to agree, "We are Necropolitan"... Though, their greed to know, would grow.
Perry led himself back in, looking for his girlfriend, strangely feeling sold out of his nut.
…
Ironically, it was just at that point that Juniper had made it there. She too was undergoing her thought detexturing, “rinse,” that is, the opposite of any detox, after looking like a Raisin May's, “In.”
This was to be the, “Turnabout (a new Ceremony was declared by Avem’s Host in Relative-Caster Company, and held somewhat like a House Party).”
A $9,000.00 Maitland Smith Dollhouse Bar Cabinet, was off in isolated room of the newly Renovated Manor, with a load of Porcelain Dolls and cameras to watch it.
That room was off limits.
Juniper had had it in her know long afore, in dream. Now to hack Avem… oh, where?
…
"Osa," circuit of my air... How can, "I," enfold you? Swarma asked, with a vestitude, which only, behooved to surmise her, with surreptitious guiltiness of paridyllic refrain.
She, “The NicNeven,” winked meaningfully, holding an extremely rare pipe up, skyward.
The Time Wraiths all sat, in their, “F”arm-Ended Theatre apart from the once-Ballroom.
Quieting down, it was in their circle that a cast occurred, but in truth they were no relative summoners and Avem’s Mafia had elected them afresh.
That is… that as they were all a, somewhat afraid and eerily sketched out, “Fresh Crop,” yet and though, she would in fact, have them richly afforded, in Good Time.
…
Avem’s Mafia had sent the former Nec-Will’O’Mancers over to her Manor for the Renovations.
Avem, then, was Crowned, “Accorded,” and the Newly Selected Time Wraiths, could be Trained.
Avem’s Clue In, in her new Role, while in her old Manor seemed to live in it’s espies.
I mean, they must have had her drugged for the whole house to be enchanted, somehow, but the only question is who set it up, and when?
One of her clues, came from a former Nec-Will’O’Mancer silently shadow-encoaching a novice approved in the group, by his far larger boding of path had, in-the-off. She heard the man in her head as well, ruling that Smith had to explore her ties in the Mafia, through rank, a second time, and thus a later, termed-submission as a right of accession, had been officed.
She, once again (the man went over in his mind) being indoctrinated into Mafia rank, though slowly, because her freedom-release methods, were her own merital device, and she needed a longer time to work at them.
Avem, had canned herself intentionally, to stay at a head, but nobody fully knew, how it was done.
Reptilian Mind Control.
-‐-
How could that be?
Look to the Wind, and we shall ride. ~ "Phantom Riding The Whip," where one is not standing on top of a vehicle, but rather, riding over a different type of, "Whip," as a, "Phantom-Circuit." ~
"Now we admonish," they recited.
"Peace be," stated the NicNeven. She inhaled from the lit pipe.
They all, “doned,” her infuriatingness, with amicability.
Now yes, your highest love, and what’s our gift they forecried, awaiting something.
Not of in an any Dib of forgery… You will undoubtedly see. She canned.
Please don’t mess us or master us mental, Avem, one girl joked, admitting the kind dark lair WAS weird.
That's Missus, Avem relegated ghasting.
…
Now, I have here the document they stole it from, a man entering the room said. He read aloud,
The remains of a, "chicote"/"cigar butt"/"cigarette butt."
The Nec-Will'O'Mancers, then stated in unison, reading off of the pamphlets they'd previously been handed out, though in a less clear-and-determined tone, or well (it seemed), in a way that hummed and wandered.
"... Far l'fo, Ho glow. How we sway. How does a hard tar, Lie her thieu, In a chi, icy high..."?
When they were finished reciting, the man continued speaking.
By, "sukunai," "少ない," the man continued in Japanese… a word, which means, "few or little," with the root word, "少し ("すこし," "sukoshi").""
Avem exhaled. "The synonym for, which is, "chotto," she said. So yes... in other words? "A little." "ちょっと ("chotto")," may I add, it has a root word in the adverb, "chito..." "... "ちと ("chito")," as in, "slightly," "a little," "a bit," or, "somewhat," where, "ち ("chi," means, “small”)," and, "と ("to," is an adverbial particle). "と ("to")," is also a noun, which is short for, "と金 (tokin)," which will now indicate a promoted, "歩兵 ("fuhyō," or, "pawn”)," that, "moves," like a, "金将 ("kinshō," or, “gold general”).""
Thus, what might have been inferred, perhaps, was that a, "Chicote," in a pipe, was, more or less, alike unto a, "Chi Chót," if it did indeed implicate such.
A, "Chót," of course, meaning something at the, "Bottom," "Lowest Extremity," or, "End," of something, and from there, or at that point, perhaps even then moving forward.
Chicote, apart from being a form of Tobacco, was also, in all truth, a form of, "Whip," known for being a Scourge, in places like the Congo.
The NicNeven, had already caught wise to this, and also how, this form of Tobacco, may have had it's own "Xicohtli (a Nahuatl word, for, "Bumblebee")."
I guess, what needed to be said most (as a nod to the Indigenous People), was that they were good to hold a Peace over the Herb, and also Bow...
Some people may have needed a Peace Blessed over them, knowing the Nature of how all Words exist with ties to Power.
…
This time, however, she was not merely dreaming with the pipe. She aimed to begin work on something more pivotal. Holding her peace, over them, as though the Time Wraiths had not, in fact, been led by her to keep a different mindset, themselves, she kept them aware, of the part of her mind they were let in by.
A part, they would not be able to share. When inhaling, she did so with a strickening wind, through sympathetic diacords and resonance fields, and from a region locked onto by the Time Wraiths collective awareness. The NicNeven (we presume, remaining silent somewhere at the top of an, "imaginary," but quite irregal, circuit of Heaven, and with her pipe), had her whole lot hidden safely away, and blessed unseen.
She, "wind-let," her chosen remote area, with the pipe, from a distance, as though it were a whip and a scourge, creating yet another (this time stronger), bane.
Her smoke summons, were such that, she hoped to collect and open them, one day, as a portal, to dawn on the World.
As for the pipe vision. This one was well formed. She might have make a centrepiece of it, on table somewhere.
Many of them, rested on glass plates, with glass cases overtop. After their Surveillance Circuit had run, "Ash-Line Data," or, "Pipe Particle Intel," was fed through a Computer on the Ash-Configuracy, Analysis-Observancy Program, of the, 'Night-Watch Circuit', of the, "Time Wraiths"-Network, and for a Number of Reasons...
One, being that the Data, would often be used to reproduce these, "In-Pipe Visions," as, "Viable Product-for-Sale ("Furnishings from the, "Furnace,"" so-to-speak)," and so they needed a Good Record of Analysis kept for Reproduction. "Pipe Reproductions," would be made using more Durable Materials, and Non-Smokable Materials. The Data, would also allow the group to Configure Predictions of Ash-Shift, with a Matrix, once Measurements and Variables were Plugged into an appropriate Coded Program Logarithm, which helped them see, potential Shift Patterns, which may yet arise. The Furnishings, were to be kept as Permanent Pipes... Artefacts, for the Mansion, and Museum, of Swarma.
'Necrolith Spectre'. ~ The NicNeven's, "Necrolith Spectre," had a very real premise. She, had drawn Chi through her Summon of Feiz, by a Fix. ~
"Summon ("Korean," Language)": 徴 https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E5%BE%B4#Japanese
"Feiz ("Zhuang," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/feiz#Zhuang
"Fix ("Bouyei," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fix
My thought is that the Jinwen Bian, Bronze Inscription, of, "Fá (in the Mandarin Language)," ties itself over to, "Fät (in the "Volapük," Language)," and thus relates to, "Fate," and, "Karma."
"Fat (in the Cantonese Language)," means, "Buddha," and is related to, "Fá (in Mandarin)," while, "Fät (in the Voläpuk Language)," is characteristic of, "Buddhist Philosophy."
Does anyone else see the Structure of the Modern, "Wheel," in the Mandarin, "Fá?" - A.W.T. (November 18th, 2020).
- No-one knew why. *
The Holy Spirit Sword cuts through to the Marrow. This is intended to mean that it is versatile. Only, more to the point, that it is not intended for vice.
How this happens, is that it has verses, in tandem occurrence, operating in relevant reflection, on Scripture, and is designed to heal. That is… before having thought of attack or rendering anyone ineffectual.
Wisdom from Jesus, in Scripture, teaches us, that, without Doctrinal relevance, and Revelation, we live on a Dying Planet and cause it.
~ Falling out of our mouths, if I may add. ~ The tongue is a venomous instrument, which apart from destroying, needs to be bridled with Scriptural Truth and or the Gospel, or healing falls away from what we know of vital spirit, sowing, growing, engrafting, and planning.
However picking up on any dead line of “Prayer Chain (for things truly are, by introspection, a righteously bidden, divine godly judgement's in of how to live by a planetary Monodeism and not just by correspondence, but mainly faith in Him),” to help, Christianly, defeat the death of the soul. [Angelic parameters, of what’s barred, of course had in, or it’s out a’barren]
Marrow is where the Blood Cells are created before reaching the Circulatory System.
This is in the bone.
Luz is the Catholic-Bidden Vertebrae/Spinal Column Bone for Resurrection.
As Jesus commands one to Live or the Tree not to grow for being of ill time, Our lines have a prayer solvency to that line of fess, by the Vin, or vine, and gean or Spirit.
However, Merovingeans are babylonian Dragon order. We needed it bidden less graven.
- Remember the Holy Ghost is of the Burning Bush, with Moses, in Exodus, in The Holy Bible (and not only there).
Made of Heaven, wise, the sword knows the hairs on the heads of the utilizers and counting unequal, may perform.
That is, off for bolder lead, and even balded for baring, out of the Worker’s Parable of God’s Constance and Unequal Nature, bearers of it's Fire, may see, and do oft’ find some in their know, of the Church Hold on Word.
Obvious?
This is the Rate Of Pay, in the Vineyard Parable, of the Workers who worked (un-in Mammon), for their Lord (Christ), earlier, and then some other, later (ie. When, in Truth, found bidden in and by Him, a fair constant is maintained, no matter World Climate, in the Fellowship), for and not toward, the forever, for they may not be bidden.
God unriddled.
Jesus, is the Amen in Revelations 3:14, He Ransoms Believers Souls, through Self Sacrifice and Sovereign Service, his father, created and lawed through the covenants, and the commandments, and owned all heaven host and hierarch, and the Holy Spirit, Blessed the Way.
An expensive matryoshka was brought in for Ralph to look at...
He received the package at his Estate, and had a hard time with his spectacles, adjusting them trying to read the fine print.
The brown paper parcel, with white sticker, opened to a smaller purple gift box, within it. The gift box was about the size of an order of chow mein, and from within the lilac tissue paper inside, was a golden doll. Andrei, Fu, and Evelyn, had driven back and were now seated around Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, here it is, he stated. No word of who it's from, not to mention that I'm not working anymore.
Is it another antique asked Andrei?
Yes, and well, I think it is, replied the Senior, but the thing is, I don't know how to open it. It's a Matryoshka or Russian Nesting Doll, and this one is rather expensive, but the Middle Circumference of the Doll has a Twistable-Dial Lock, and I've never known that to be the case before.
Would you wager all the others inside it are like that, too? asked Evelyn. I know what Matryoshkas are, but you're right. This one DOES seem a little bedeviled.
Perhaps said Ralph.
Do you think there is anything inside, asked Fu.
It looks a little weighty. Is it a bomb? Asked Evelyn.
Nobody would bomb a man like Mr. Dizzmith, said Andrei, but just to be on the safe side, I'll look it up. Andrei pulled out his Smart Phone.
Most bombs don't have Passcodes, said Fu. Look, the Passcode is right here on the box.
It says the code can be adjusted and is made to be matrilineal.
This is most definitely a finely-crafted specimen then, but how does it work? asked Ralph.
Well, it looks like every Doll has two turnable dials at the vertical middle, which run horizontal and around the circumference. These are adjusted from within, when open, and numerically set with dates for a passcode, before the top and bottom on each doll are latched, that is. Each doll is secured, around and over the former one, which has been latched or fastened, and each, in so doing, has its dials consecutively scrambled from the outside, before putting the next doll on it. The dolls are hollow, and increase in scale, to fit, while the locks operate by Birth Years of mothers, or rather, daughters. If one Mother or Grandmother, leaves a Sum, in her Will, to the, 'Matryoshka Fund', it will Increase in Interest, and if they send an Heirloom in With the Money, once the Company is Informed of the Birth of the Final Child, they will send the Doll to the Final Child, Heirloom within It. The Family History, and Records are Sent too, as the Locks are Set with Birth Years, of Mothers, in Chronological Order or First to Last, and this Prevents the Wrong Families from Accessing the Contents.
If No Contents, are Sent by the Ancestral Will-Bearer, Gifts-in-Shop, may also be Included, upon Initial Order Selection.
The Company/Fund, occasionally Touches Base with the Families, but this is Less Common.
Who is it for? asked Evelyn.
I have no idea, but there's some Weird Vial in it!
What could it be of, though?
Well, Matryoshka's are generally not compartments, made use of, for containing things, but this appears to be a Vial of Oil.
"Oyle," is a rare name for the Saviour, "Jesus Christ," remarked Andrei.
"Oyle ("Middle English," Language)": # 2.4. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/oyle Maybe an Heiress, then? said Ralph. WHO could she have been?!
2023.06.07 15:19 Bogey4hoo 'Surviving The Win' - Chapter 009A.
‘Surviving The Win’.
…
Chapter 009 - A.
…
Santa Claus, had initially checked his list, and found that a Fairy Pipe had made its way into request, in the 21st Century.
The Fairy Pipe, is to be given to Andrew Thomlinson, he conceded, turning through some papers, although he couldn't make out why it said, from, “Eldritch.”
Was it more likely, Nicholas had wondered, that Eldritch was a nod to the entirety of the Elf Kingdom as the name would seem to suggest, or merely the alleged person, named Eldritch Spellbound.
Who is that, Nick? asked Mrs. Claus, coming forward with a glass of milk for her husband, and a bowl of milk for their cat.
As far as I know, he announced, Eldritch is the sort of person, who only ever existed, in the mind of, Avem Smith. However, he continued, Eldritch is also the nickname of one of our young beneficiaries in the future, by the name of Andrew. His name appears as such, as of 2004, anyhow.
…
Nick walked out of their Fairytale Cabin to the Shed Of Lost Objects, located by their Barn where the Reindeer could be found.
“Curio Adhurio,” he reacted aloud, upon locating the small Smiling Rock. It was on a Shelf, and would later find it’s way into Perry’s hands. We should let Ben out for a while, he stated. He continued to leave the Shed, carrying a bottle of Zinfandel, as well. The reason for this, not being altogether evident, yet.
Carrying both items out to the Elf’s Workshop (an enchanted, overlarge, walk-in, OMRISS Cupboard), which operated by an ancient Medean Mean (or, Magical Modality), wedding each and every promulgatory to it’s prime, and by sāwa (an Arabic word, meaning to regularize or settle), as it is related to their word imil for make or do, unless of course by istahwā/h-w-y
اِسْتَهْوَى
Meaning to fill with passion, to make desirous, to enamour, to seduce, and/or to gain.
An en-dezlegare or resolver… with a key.
…
The entrance to this Elf's Workshop, was about large enough to afford a small to regular-sized person through. He found it propped open.
The Bottle of Zinfandel, known as Zin was a “Goesting”/“Lust,” Alcohol.
…
The elves, as usual, were hard at work.
Claus rang their work Bell. In his hand, he held the Silver Key Ring. He told them all to cease, and leave for approximately 45 minutes. They would alert Mrs. Claus. He needed her outside, once they were in the Cabin.
The elves ceased their work in the shop and exited.
Pitching the Rock onto a clear spot on the Floor of the Room, he poured out an Offering of Zinfandel, before closing and locking the Giant Omriss Door.
The Clauses waited outside the Cupboard 40 minutes and then into early Dusk.
Instinctively, their cat, “Loose,” came forward to light the way for both Nick, and Ma.
…
They were feeding the Reindeer when it happened. A peculiar light shone, from out of the window of the Shed Of Lost Objects.
Nick saw this, and took it as his cue to walk back over to The Shed Of Lost Objects. The Delva La Plume Pipe had appeared. Nick went in to retrieve it.
Supposedly, it had been made of Tatter’s Old Trick, “Flower.”
Good!... he stated, portentiously satisfied.
Walking back with it, he was addressed by Mrs. Claus, who couldn’t really see why Nick hadn’t just settled for one of their Poinsettias, or crafted a pipe, himself. She returned to the Cabin.
…
15 further minutes in, and Santa had heard a Loud Thump in the Giant OMRISS. He stood back, and unlocked the door... then, opening.
Ben? Is that you in there?
Yes it’s me Mr. Claus, said the depth of a murky voice of rather picky decisiveness. He was hidden in the shadows.
Well, come forward. I have something of yours. Actually, something of importance to discuss, about it. I need your blessing. Is this your Delva La Plume Pipe?
Yes, we’ll of course, replied Ben. It’s blessed by Lasagna.
May I give it away to someone? Nick’s voice wavered a little. He was referring to, “Ben’s,” Delva La Plume Tobacco Pipe, after all. It being a very sensitive matter to open about, let alone giving it away.
Golly, Nick? what are you going to give me in return for it? This Flower Pipe is a Sacred Item of mine. It had the Blessing of a Pixiu Money Dragon’s Yen. Those pertain to Ien/Tobacco Smoke, and of course Gum, as Resin. How did you find it, by the way?
Only by how lost you were, yourself, Ben. Which is why I summoned you to confiscate it. You hold to too much, making you your own lost artefactuary. How about I give you a job, to occupy yourself with? Do you mind?
Stepping forth a, “Krampus-looking,” Ben, known as, “GAAP (for Lust),” to the Hebrews’ Demonolators, appeared as a dark fog, with two cool yellow eyes. What type of job, asked Ben. He was most perturbed by the idea of losing his tie to the Dragon. It had been near him, almost his entire life. Now, he’d been bidden back in time to see Nick.
Nick handed him a Blessed Fairy Birch Twig, stating, I would like you to watch over Andrew.
Ben, agreed. Okay, no problem! But how do you want me to be to any of the men or women on the merchant’s end of the tally involved. Those with Tobacco… or, furthermore, Andrew, himself. What about the picture?
Mainly, Nick asked? The Saint, now being shocked, and a bit sorry to hear the Demon's plaintive-sounding consideration. Mainly, I pray you’ll treat them mercifully. I bid you off of them. First, however, I have something to read to you.
What could that be? asked Ben, a little agitated.
What I have here, is the boy named Andrew's, soul legal, written out.
A legal, why would he have even needed it? Asked Ben.
He was Naughty, said Nick.
And you still want to give him my pipe? Ben was flabbergasted and shook his head in disapproval, The fog dissipating and then reaccumulated.
Yes, but if it’s any consolation, I’m having you involved on the matter of this topic, to assign you to a task. You can follow me around for gift deliveries.
Okay, he sighed, let me hear it. Away!...
An Elf of exceptional hearing, well guarded, and of swift feet, ran out to take the pipe away, and then ran back to the cabin.
After a medium-length discussion, Ben was satisfied, and entered back into the Cupboard.
Santa’s last words to Ben, were… Just, be moderate. You are, by your Goetic, “Lust Spirit,” naming, a commoderator of amounts of passion in dibs, but we need to keep that, clean. You also put the Darker Passions into what you see to. I’m going out on a limb here, but hopefully that very thing, won't impact anything, other than our N’Oel Nights, and the Pipe. You know how we aim to role our Presence, in the World.
…
The Winged-and-Horned Shade, of Ben, after clamouring back into the Cupboard, was silent.
Slowly… and MOST surely, Santa twisted the Silver, Locking Key. This, without a word of lib, and doing so, with a certain determination.
It must be noted, that a similar smaller make of this magical re-animating Cupboard, later made a popular movie.
Not without stress, Nick later wiped his brow. I hope he didn't have too hard a time with this new arrangement… Nick had been sweating for what he might end up having to go through over the Holiday visits (with Ben in tow, that is).
Pulling a delivery sack, from out of the Barn and coming back to the Cupboard again. He opened it a final time.
He found only the rock on the floor, and after sweeping away the muddy dirt, and doing a bit of cleaning, he put the rock, pipe, and bottle of goestling into the pack. He had Mrs. Claus file all of the Elves, then, into the OMRISS, bidding them, goodnight.
Upon awakening, they would be only noddy toys. Except for the good ones. Those? The immortal Hadibi’ndula.
…
Remember:
Reason as in it, being, that it enburdens followers by demon lawing, and the apostates then vie for their pry at buying out the prelacy, by fay-way none the wary, no matter where Revelations had in. We need Fellowship's Service, in gracious God support. Not con-arded rapture of hierarchical courts. Not all is bidden. Heretic in me.
Alcohol, apart from all and any demon loring, is at a shy when imbibing wisdom for Heaven, and therefore, not recommended for anyone (especially not those who are ill of conscience, judgementally off righteous God call, or leprous).
The reason why, being if the person were ill, they were already unclean and alcohol is low-kosher. This means that, if any were taken, only a little should be allowed, and only for one, as we do not want all people on it.
If a proper handle is lacking, then it is recommended left out of it.
…
Well, Ben's off to drive Andrew crazy! Pa mumbled to himself, coming back into the Cabin.
Andrew doesn’t know, but that Osé of his, is a Snow Leopard/Uncia Uncia, which exemplifies Unk/Twain/Wit, through an Ounce/One, making it’s Were-Cat/Ju-Ju transformation, by All One, as an Oni Spirit.
The Oni, will now, I hope, feel only occasionally bidden to discipline Children with the Madenning, “Fairy Birch Twig,” and only the Naughty, as a Krampus, and while around the Winter’s Holiday when I can Supervise and offer Gifts to People.
…
How did you win Ben, so fast? Ma asked.
I told him that Andrew was divining with a Dictionary, by Bibliomancy or Book-Fortune-Telling, and got landed with the names Spellbound and Eldritch before 2004, Monarch and Bishop in 2007, and then finally, in 2020, Signature. That making a minimum of 5 Nicknames.
Signature? said Mrs. Claus. How dreadful. The pipe is Andrew's then?
By all accounts I'd have to say so, but my Records mention, the Pipe is to be given, from Eldritch.
Where should we send it to? she asked.
As no Eldritch Spellbound truly exists, I suppose we should send it to all of El-Dom, until such a time as Andrew receives it.
…
I’ve got the document right here. It truly says it all.
Andrew thought that random lot drawing was only a random act. But it’s that very random act that plods (if not by plotting), a path. Some forms of lot drawing are unbidden. We leave it at, that Andrew, hadn’t known God.
Later, he figured that the white light leading him through pages of his (fortune-told), Self-Naming Ceremonies was a Holy Spirit Guide, when it was, in fact, an Evil, Insanity, Demon Spirit named Osé, making him follow a long, drawn-out, Ghost-Written, Trail, of, “Eldritch”/”Creature”/”Bucca,” “Monarch”/”King”/”Faust,” and, “Bishop”/”Pope”/”Jack Frost, naming.
He had a Signature written out on a Letter to Christ, when he divined the word Signature, though!
Oh, is Signature his name, now?! Look after all names, they said? This little man is responsible for having us look after everyone, then… She gave a faint laugh, then wincing in the snow. His Birth Name, though?
He wrote it out prior, unwittingly.
Where was it located? asked Mrs. Claus.
Well, on a Note to God saying, more-or-less, that he’s a, “Psalm 139”/”Fearfully and Wonderfully Made”-Believing, as well as an, “Isaiah 11”/”God's Animal Safety Promise”-Indebted, “Over-Kill-Joy,” Repentant Sinner who goes over the top obsessively in small circuits, but still believes in The Lord.
Do you think he’s ready for this Fairy Pipe? Asked Mrs. Claus.
It came from Tatter’s Flower, and Ben had it enchanted somehow, with a Dragon, said Nick admitted embarassed. Anyhow, Andrew aimed to confess that he’s a, “1 Corinthians 5:5 Repentant,” and will have to wait to see the Christ, without usurping the Church, by abiding good protocol in the World. In the Interim… Not really. I think he needed to feel gifted.
Nick! Ma warned. This could go horribly wrong! Well, what? Do you think he’s acquitted of it, by Secret Societies involvements over his head, ‘surping him by summonry?
If they Governed his Movements, that’s why the coincidences are down to Spirits of Wickedness in High Places being the multiple homes he's moved to. Anyhow, let’s have some Hallongrotta.
Remind me again, why The Delva La Plume is the one he needs and not a Poinsettia. Mrs. Claus asked.
He needs one that’s Christened/Named, and, Ma! Pa whined, lastly, it's not that there aren't other Fairy Pipes to be made, but I’m pretty sure they have to be prayed for, to be received properly. This is the right one for, “El's New Nativity.”
I’ve had enough Nicholas, and you even wasted our Zinfandel. I’ll see you in the morning.
…
As for, on whether, he was Signed?
I just so happen to know he's still in Osé, and not all-out Satan malurky! Nick fittered secretly to a mouse, Osé means honorific title in Japanese.
But how was it to be… In Ba’al or even exorcizable..
Andrew Thomlinson, sat in his room, browsing the Global News and Weather, on his Smart Phone's Internet. The year was 2018.
Kali? he asked. Are you sure we should do this? He put out a cigarette into his ash mug (a rather conventional ashtray?).
One more, Magic Drew Bear, his cherubim replied.
Well, you said three, but I don’t know, he said.
They were onto a third.
Then they'll know that you and I are meant to be.
A third fire, could put the world in dire peril… Andrew, hesitated. Both fell in Phantom Love over never meeting and discovering Opera.
You know, I don't really believe in this stuff, but who am I? I'm not real. Everything's realler than I am! We'll make it three fires and that way, if your theories are true, we'll be able to locate them and prove them and if they locate you, we can find a way of announcing our love before them all. I'm sure they'll manage a way of bringing us together, that way.
…
But Kali, who are you, again, asked Andrew, dearly, and half disbelieving as he picked up another cigarette. You called me a Magic Drew Bear one day, and I'm not lying, that won my heart, but I don't even own the better part of my own apartment or dollar to get us started off together, yet. How will we ever find a way to live together?
You'll come to get me from the East Coast of Canada, she said. In all regalia, and sweep me off my feet... Either that, she said, or you'll meet me at my hospital.
That story always changes.
…
Kali had met him, at first, in Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, in a vision, where she had stood outside his apartment window shuffling her feet, but when Andrew had looked, she hadn't actually been there.
At least, that's how it had started.
Now it was that, the two, were playing a very dangerous game, of placing Faustian Fairytale bets, on the landscape of the, "known," world.
In, “Clement.”
On one hand, Andrew believed in girls, on the other hand he didn't know why he had to feed this one birdfood or get off his butt and find a job, before the war or, better still, he didn't know why he had to lend to starting the minor Apocalypse, which would inevitably start the war, then followed up by the real Apocalypse, afterward. Nobody ever let him in on those sorts of dire detailings.
It's an Ion.
Like a Kirby, you're saying? His friend couldn't believe him. The pink demon puffoon from the video games?
Well, the way I see it, all fires are synchronized in some way, though they never appear so. Think of two synchronized blinking lights. Now, command them ionic. Only, those two lights fly around, and sync their, "behaviours and patterns," while all over the place, or the planet. And then, take it one step further... they're never truly only even ONE pair.
Why do they fly around?
I think they fly around to examine every known or unknown thing in existence. When they're at rest, it's because they've found enough Spark, Combustible Material, and my guess is, Air. They're really all over the Universe that way, only we can't tell for their Disparity and Scale and the Fires.
So they just inhale, things combust, and then they dwell in their ember and/or maybe die down a bit to continue? Yeah... Drew, that's lame. Kirby's not a real demon.
But don't you see. I know that! They're not actually Kirby. They're one little ion commanding an existence circuit.
Then the question I'd ask is, are they (or is it), necessary to existence, or better yet, do they command it?
You know what? Since I saw the manifestation of those fires on the ninth of September, from my bet with, "Invisible," Kali, last year, I'm kinda growing more wary of flickering lights...
…
…
A Lady stepped out of a Car and turned to face the two of them.
The Card: "Sparing you any details on how my ashes may have been in slight, I've commanded you into my furnace for how the furnishings were not in right."
~ Andrew writes loopy letters, said one girl, while giggling, back in his Junior High. And I couldn't tell who he was trying to impress. You... Or Jim Davis. ~ A Bat flew in and settled into the tree (it had been the Eaves Trough).
OKAY... Tags off, and Let Me Know How Everything Fits! His mom, got back into the car, waved and drove off.
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…
Chapter 009 - A.
…
Santa Claus, had initially checked his list, and found that a Fairy Pipe had made its way into request, in the 21st Century.
The Fairy Pipe, is to be given to Andrew Thomlinson, he conceded, turning through some papers, although he couldn't make out why it said, from, “Eldritch.”
Was it more likely, Nicholas had wondered, that Eldritch was a nod to the entirety of the Elf Kingdom as the name would seem to suggest, or merely the alleged person, named Eldritch Spellbound.
Who is that, Nick? asked Mrs. Claus, coming forward with a glass of milk for her husband, and a bowl of milk for their cat.
As far as I know, he announced, Eldritch is the sort of person, who only ever existed, in the mind of, Avem Smith. However, he continued, Eldritch is also the nickname of one of our young beneficiaries in the future, by the name of Andrew. His name appears as such, as of 2004, anyhow.
…
Nick walked out of their Fairytale Cabin to the Shed Of Lost Objects, located by their Barn where the Reindeer could be found.
“Curio Adhurio,” he reacted aloud, upon locating the small Smiling Rock. It was on a Shelf, and would later find it’s way into Perry’s hands. We should let Ben out for a while, he stated. He continued to leave the Shed, carrying a bottle of Zinfandel, as well. The reason for this, not being altogether evident, yet.
Carrying both items out to the Elf’s Workshop (an enchanted, overlarge, walk-in, OMRISS Cupboard), which operated by an ancient Medean Mean (or, Magical Modality), wedding each and every promulgatory to it’s prime, and by sāwa (an Arabic word, meaning to regularize or settle), as it is related to their word imil for make or do, unless of course by istahwā/h-w-y
اِسْتَهْوَى
Meaning to fill with passion, to make desirous, to enamour, to seduce, and/or to gain.
An en-dezlegare or resolver… with a key.
…
The entrance to this Elf's Workshop, was about large enough to afford a small to regular-sized person through. He found it propped open.
The Bottle of Zinfandel, known as Zin was a “Goesting”/“Lust,” Alcohol.
…
The elves, as usual, were hard at work.
Claus rang their work Bell. In his hand, he held the Silver Key Ring. He told them all to cease, and leave for approximately 45 minutes. They would alert Mrs. Claus. He needed her outside, once they were in the Cabin.
The elves ceased their work in the shop and exited.
Pitching the Rock onto a clear spot on the Floor of the Room, he poured out an Offering of Zinfandel, before closing and locking the Giant Omriss Door.
The Clauses waited outside the Cupboard 40 minutes and then into early Dusk.
Instinctively, their cat, “Loose,” came forward to light the way for both Nick, and Ma.
…
They were feeding the Reindeer when it happened. A peculiar light shone, from out of the window of the Shed Of Lost Objects.
Nick saw this, and took it as his cue to walk back over to The Shed Of Lost Objects. The Delva La Plume Pipe had appeared. Nick went in to retrieve it.
Supposedly, it had been made of Tatter’s Old Trick, “Flower.”
Good!... he stated, portentiously satisfied.
Walking back with it, he was addressed by Mrs. Claus, who couldn’t really see why Nick hadn’t just settled for one of their Poinsettias, or crafted a pipe, himself. She returned to the Cabin.
…
15 further minutes in, and Santa had heard a Loud Thump in the Giant OMRISS. He stood back, and unlocked the door... then, opening.
Ben? Is that you in there?
Yes it’s me Mr. Claus, said the depth of a murky voice of rather picky decisiveness. He was hidden in the shadows.
Well, come forward. I have something of yours. Actually, something of importance to discuss, about it. I need your blessing. Is this your Delva La Plume Pipe?
Yes, we’ll of course, replied Ben. It’s blessed by Lasagna.
May I give it away to someone? Nick’s voice wavered a little. He was referring to, “Ben’s,” Delva La Plume Tobacco Pipe, after all. It being a very sensitive matter to open about, let alone giving it away.
Golly, Nick? what are you going to give me in return for it? This Flower Pipe is a Sacred Item of mine. It had the Blessing of a Pixiu Money Dragon’s Yen. Those pertain to Ien/Tobacco Smoke, and of course Gum, as Resin. How did you find it, by the way?
Only by how lost you were, yourself, Ben. Which is why I summoned you to confiscate it. You hold to too much, making you your own lost artefactuary. How about I give you a job, to occupy yourself with? Do you mind?
Stepping forth a, “Krampus-looking,” Ben, known as, “GAAP (for Lust),” to the Hebrews’ Demonolators, appeared as a dark fog, with two cool yellow eyes. What type of job, asked Ben. He was most perturbed by the idea of losing his tie to the Dragon. It had been near him, almost his entire life. Now, he’d been bidden back in time to see Nick.
Nick handed him a Blessed Fairy Birch Twig, stating, I would like you to watch over Andrew.
Ben, agreed. Okay, no problem! But how do you want me to be to any of the men or women on the merchant’s end of the tally involved. Those with Tobacco… or, furthermore, Andrew, himself. What about the picture?
Mainly, Nick asked? The Saint, now being shocked, and a bit sorry to hear the Demon's plaintive-sounding consideration. Mainly, I pray you’ll treat them mercifully. I bid you off of them. First, however, I have something to read to you.
What could that be? asked Ben, a little agitated.
What I have here, is the boy named Andrew's, soul legal, written out.
A legal, why would he have even needed it? Asked Ben.
He was Naughty, said Nick.
And you still want to give him my pipe? Ben was flabbergasted and shook his head in disapproval, The fog dissipating and then reaccumulated.
Yes, but if it’s any consolation, I’m having you involved on the matter of this topic, to assign you to a task. You can follow me around for gift deliveries.
Okay, he sighed, let me hear it. Away!...
An Elf of exceptional hearing, well guarded, and of swift feet, ran out to take the pipe away, and then ran back to the cabin.
After a medium-length discussion, Ben was satisfied, and entered back into the Cupboard.
Santa’s last words to Ben, were… Just, be moderate. You are, by your Goetic, “Lust Spirit,” naming, a commoderator of amounts of passion in dibs, but we need to keep that, clean. You also put the Darker Passions into what you see to. I’m going out on a limb here, but hopefully that very thing, won't impact anything, other than our N’Oel Nights, and the Pipe. You know how we aim to role our Presence, in the World.
…
The Winged-and-Horned Shade, of Ben, after clamouring back into the Cupboard, was silent.
Slowly… and MOST surely, Santa twisted the Silver, Locking Key. This, without a word of lib, and doing so, with a certain determination.
It must be noted, that a similar smaller make of this magical re-animating Cupboard, later made a popular movie.
Not without stress, Nick later wiped his brow. I hope he didn't have too hard a time with this new arrangement… Nick had been sweating for what he might end up having to go through over the Holiday visits (with Ben in tow, that is).
Pulling a delivery sack, from out of the Barn and coming back to the Cupboard again. He opened it a final time.
He found only the rock on the floor, and after sweeping away the muddy dirt, and doing a bit of cleaning, he put the rock, pipe, and bottle of goestling into the pack. He had Mrs. Claus file all of the Elves, then, into the OMRISS, bidding them, goodnight.
Upon awakening, they would be only noddy toys. Except for the good ones. Those? The immortal Hadibi’ndula.
…
Remember:
- The OMRISS is a Real World Cupboard. While Fictional in it’s Movie-Premise, it is a had in of Nursery Rhyme in it’s very Sinching Synopsis. A bidden in of Fairy Tales, and built to the scale of a Mother-Hubbard-Sized hole in a home, it Sinter Crofts, as though enchanting Knacked Wood. While bidding, “idle-timed,” it neither ins wood living nor dead, but delivers any of it, and all of it, to take off as life anew, by how it had new life in it ever bidden. In this way, it is alike a Comardin'd Haduzen Christic.
- The Former Word Gas, mentioned in the Chapter on Goz, Relates to Gos and Gauze, or Phantoms, as well as Petroleum. Thus, Benzine.
- The Suffix of Which, “-Zin,” rather, as a, “Zinfandel,” Is a Goestling Alcohol, or Alcohol Spirit, and, when by the Phantom Bal/The Ghostling Ben, is the Lusty Demon, named GAAP/TOAB.
- This, in particular, is alleged, and while found in Aleister’s involvements of his acclaimed Solomonic Magic, none of his work, may be taken overly seriously, as for any good. That is, because, if the Demon Science is truly a Fatherless/Bastard science of no good method or intention to God, reading it puts your soul in jeopardy.
- If I must, I would mock my own writing for yet another true as in bidden moment, to have you read in, yet another line of beneficial advice. The Holier People, as well as other People of Age Enough to Drink, can control the Spirits as mentioned above, only as insofar AS a Zinfandel might be their only reality (or any other Alcohol), but not the Demons, themselves.
Reason as in it, being, that it enburdens followers by demon lawing, and the apostates then vie for their pry at buying out the prelacy, by fay-way none the wary, no matter where Revelations had in. We need Fellowship's Service, in gracious God support. Not con-arded rapture of hierarchical courts. Not all is bidden. Heretic in me.
Alcohol, apart from all and any demon loring, is at a shy when imbibing wisdom for Heaven, and therefore, not recommended for anyone (especially not those who are ill of conscience, judgementally off righteous God call, or leprous).
The reason why, being if the person were ill, they were already unclean and alcohol is low-kosher. This means that, if any were taken, only a little should be allowed, and only for one, as we do not want all people on it.
If a proper handle is lacking, then it is recommended left out of it.
- For the purposes of this story, Santa only drinks milk, and no Zinfandel, is had, by either of the Clauses, nor their elves.
…
Well, Ben's off to drive Andrew crazy! Pa mumbled to himself, coming back into the Cabin.
Andrew doesn’t know, but that Osé of his, is a Snow Leopard/Uncia Uncia, which exemplifies Unk/Twain/Wit, through an Ounce/One, making it’s Were-Cat/Ju-Ju transformation, by All One, as an Oni Spirit.
The Oni, will now, I hope, feel only occasionally bidden to discipline Children with the Madenning, “Fairy Birch Twig,” and only the Naughty, as a Krampus, and while around the Winter’s Holiday when I can Supervise and offer Gifts to People.
…
How did you win Ben, so fast? Ma asked.
I told him that Andrew was divining with a Dictionary, by Bibliomancy or Book-Fortune-Telling, and got landed with the names Spellbound and Eldritch before 2004, Monarch and Bishop in 2007, and then finally, in 2020, Signature. That making a minimum of 5 Nicknames.
Signature? said Mrs. Claus. How dreadful. The pipe is Andrew's then?
By all accounts I'd have to say so, but my Records mention, the Pipe is to be given, from Eldritch.
Where should we send it to? she asked.
As no Eldritch Spellbound truly exists, I suppose we should send it to all of El-Dom, until such a time as Andrew receives it.
…
I’ve got the document right here. It truly says it all.
Andrew thought that random lot drawing was only a random act. But it’s that very random act that plods (if not by plotting), a path. Some forms of lot drawing are unbidden. We leave it at, that Andrew, hadn’t known God.
Later, he figured that the white light leading him through pages of his (fortune-told), Self-Naming Ceremonies was a Holy Spirit Guide, when it was, in fact, an Evil, Insanity, Demon Spirit named Osé, making him follow a long, drawn-out, Ghost-Written, Trail, of, “Eldritch”/”Creature”/”Bucca,” “Monarch”/”King”/”Faust,” and, “Bishop”/”Pope”/”Jack Frost, naming.
He had a Signature written out on a Letter to Christ, when he divined the word Signature, though!
Oh, is Signature his name, now?! Look after all names, they said? This little man is responsible for having us look after everyone, then… She gave a faint laugh, then wincing in the snow. His Birth Name, though?
He wrote it out prior, unwittingly.
Where was it located? asked Mrs. Claus.
Well, on a Note to God saying, more-or-less, that he’s a, “Psalm 139”/”Fearfully and Wonderfully Made”-Believing, as well as an, “Isaiah 11”/”God's Animal Safety Promise”-Indebted, “Over-Kill-Joy,” Repentant Sinner who goes over the top obsessively in small circuits, but still believes in The Lord.
Do you think he’s ready for this Fairy Pipe? Asked Mrs. Claus.
It came from Tatter’s Flower, and Ben had it enchanted somehow, with a Dragon, said Nick admitted embarassed. Anyhow, Andrew aimed to confess that he’s a, “1 Corinthians 5:5 Repentant,” and will have to wait to see the Christ, without usurping the Church, by abiding good protocol in the World. In the Interim… Not really. I think he needed to feel gifted.
Nick! Ma warned. This could go horribly wrong! Well, what? Do you think he’s acquitted of it, by Secret Societies involvements over his head, ‘surping him by summonry?
If they Governed his Movements, that’s why the coincidences are down to Spirits of Wickedness in High Places being the multiple homes he's moved to. Anyhow, let’s have some Hallongrotta.
Remind me again, why The Delva La Plume is the one he needs and not a Poinsettia. Mrs. Claus asked.
He needs one that’s Christened/Named, and, Ma! Pa whined, lastly, it's not that there aren't other Fairy Pipes to be made, but I’m pretty sure they have to be prayed for, to be received properly. This is the right one for, “El's New Nativity.”
I’ve had enough Nicholas, and you even wasted our Zinfandel. I’ll see you in the morning.
…
As for, on whether, he was Signed?
I just so happen to know he's still in Osé, and not all-out Satan malurky! Nick fittered secretly to a mouse, Osé means honorific title in Japanese.
But how was it to be… In Ba’al or even exorcizable..
Kali? he asked. Are you sure we should do this? He put out a cigarette into his ash mug (a rather conventional ashtray?).
One more, Magic Drew Bear, his cherubim replied.
Well, you said three, but I don’t know, he said.
They were onto a third.
Then they'll know that you and I are meant to be.
A third fire, could put the world in dire peril… Andrew, hesitated. Both fell in Phantom Love over never meeting and discovering Opera.
You know, I don't really believe in this stuff, but who am I? I'm not real. Everything's realler than I am! We'll make it three fires and that way, if your theories are true, we'll be able to locate them and prove them and if they locate you, we can find a way of announcing our love before them all. I'm sure they'll manage a way of bringing us together, that way.
…
But Kali, who are you, again, asked Andrew, dearly, and half disbelieving as he picked up another cigarette. You called me a Magic Drew Bear one day, and I'm not lying, that won my heart, but I don't even own the better part of my own apartment or dollar to get us started off together, yet. How will we ever find a way to live together?
You'll come to get me from the East Coast of Canada, she said. In all regalia, and sweep me off my feet... Either that, she said, or you'll meet me at my hospital.
That story always changes.
…
Kali had met him, at first, in Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, in a vision, where she had stood outside his apartment window shuffling her feet, but when Andrew had looked, she hadn't actually been there.
At least, that's how it had started.
Now it was that, the two, were playing a very dangerous game, of placing Faustian Fairytale bets, on the landscape of the, "known," world.
In, “Clement.”
On one hand, Andrew believed in girls, on the other hand he didn't know why he had to feed this one birdfood or get off his butt and find a job, before the war or, better still, he didn't know why he had to lend to starting the minor Apocalypse, which would inevitably start the war, then followed up by the real Apocalypse, afterward. Nobody ever let him in on those sorts of dire detailings.
Like a Kirby, you're saying? His friend couldn't believe him. The pink demon puffoon from the video games?
Well, the way I see it, all fires are synchronized in some way, though they never appear so. Think of two synchronized blinking lights. Now, command them ionic. Only, those two lights fly around, and sync their, "behaviours and patterns," while all over the place, or the planet. And then, take it one step further... they're never truly only even ONE pair.
Why do they fly around?
I think they fly around to examine every known or unknown thing in existence. When they're at rest, it's because they've found enough Spark, Combustible Material, and my guess is, Air. They're really all over the Universe that way, only we can't tell for their Disparity and Scale and the Fires.
So they just inhale, things combust, and then they dwell in their ember and/or maybe die down a bit to continue? Yeah... Drew, that's lame. Kirby's not a real demon.
But don't you see. I know that! They're not actually Kirby. They're one little ion commanding an existence circuit.
Then the question I'd ask is, are they (or is it), necessary to existence, or better yet, do they command it?
You know what? Since I saw the manifestation of those fires on the ninth of September, from my bet with, "Invisible," Kali, last year, I'm kinda growing more wary of flickering lights...
…
- CRACK! *
…
A Lady stepped out of a Car and turned to face the two of them.
~ Andrew writes loopy letters, said one girl, while giggling, back in his Junior High. And I couldn't tell who he was trying to impress. You... Or Jim Davis. ~ A Bat flew in and settled into the tree (it had been the Eaves Trough).
OKAY... Tags off, and Let Me Know How Everything Fits! His mom, got back into the car, waved and drove off.
2023.06.07 13:25 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.07 13:13 princejadid Cautious Investors and Market Uncertainty June 7, 2023
 | Market conditions are tentative as investors adopt a cautious stance ahead of the forthcoming #CPI and Federal Reserve announcements, leading to slight declines in futures for key stock indices. Despite the S&P 500 futures' flirtation with a bull market phase earlier this week, the market momentum has somewhat stalled. This hesitation is further exacerbated by several uncertainties that have emerged in a data-scarce week, underlining the current unsettled sentiment. Nonetheless, the Treasury yields continue to exhibit interesting dynamics, with both the 10-year and 2-year yields decreasing and an inversion in the 2s10s yield curve. submitted by princejadid to u/princejadid [link] [comments] In other economic news, the U.S. trade deficit is expected to widen, according to the upcoming trade balance figures. On the global front, China has reported its smallest trade surplus since February, a dip attributed to a shift in global demand patterns favoring services over goods. It's worth noting that as the world's primary consumer, U.S. import data will be a significant factor in assessing global market trends. On the individual stock front, despite a significant decline due to concerns about a cancer treatment device, NovoCure (NVCR) demonstrated a modest recovery. #SPX #NDX #DJI #MarketUpdate |
2023.06.07 12:34 Maleficent_Bag6247 Tea bowl, Tenmoku glaze with leaf design. Jizhou ware, from China, Southern Song Dynasty, 12th century CE, now housed at the Museum of Oriental Ceramics in Osaka, Japan [1756x1310]
![Tea bowl, Tenmoku glaze with leaf design. Jizhou ware, from China, Southern Song Dynasty, 12th century CE, now housed at the Museum of Oriental Ceramics in Osaka, Japan [1756x1310]](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/8yb5yRxSYl93ZMAO-sf21wyH4O_T4V3OEApl_tlm4qs.jpg "Tea bowl, Tenmoku glaze with leaf design. Jizhou ware, from China, Southern Song Dynasty, 12th century CE, now housed at the Museum of Oriental Ceramics in Osaka, Japan [1756x1310]") | submitted by Maleficent_Bag6247 to u/Maleficent_Bag6247 [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 12:27 OtherwiseDrummer2909 LV Bucket Bag - My First Bag Shopping Experience in China
 | During my trip to China, I had the opportunity to purchase my first designer bag, and I decided on the LV Bucket Bag. While exploring a local store, this bag caught my eye instantly — its spaciousness, classic monogram pattern, and suitability for everyday use. After contemplating my usual style preferences, I finally settled on the black option. submitted by OtherwiseDrummer2909 to u/OtherwiseDrummer2909 [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/59nklu5rok4b1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ec90483840aef47dd97dfdd97dacace7e1274770 On the day of bag shopping, I dressed casually without makeup and carried a cloth bag that I usually use for books. Upon entering the store, a sales associate gave me a thorough look from head to toe before inquiring about my interests. I mentioned my desire to see the Bucket Bag and requested her assistance. With a nod, she placed one on the counter, informing me that the bag was not in stock and required a pre-order. However, she also mentioned that there was an option to purchase a silk scarf along with it. The total price in Chinese yuan was 15,700 RMB. I was taken aback as I had never encountered such a requirement for a regular bag purchase at LV. The sales associate's demeanor made me feel uneasy, so after examining the bag, I thanked her politely and left the store. Throughout the afternoon, I couldn't shake off the memory of her piercing gaze. The more I dwelled on it, the more disheartened I felt. I was determined to buy the bag, but not from her. That evening, I returned to the LV store and sought assistance from a different sales associate. She confirmed that the bag indeed required a pre-order but assured me that purchasing the silk scarf was optional. I went ahead and placed the order for the bag with her. Thus, I can confidently say that I had a somewhat unpleasant experience being "intimidated" by the first sales associate. It slightly overshadowed my first bag shopping experience. The price of this bag was 12,800 RMB last year, and it has increased to 14,000 RMB this year. Considering the possibility of further price hikes, I promptly placed the order. After eagerly waiting for a week, I finally received my coveted LV Bucket Bag. https://preview.redd.it/k7i4mdutok4b1.jpg?width=1000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2aaa3f698679d079fb53d5db30cebf1dc8e25ae4 When I received the bag, I couldn't resist trying on a few other styles that caught my attention. It further fueled my enthusiasm for luxury items. I will continue to cherish my love for handbags and relish the excitement of shopping for them, especially during my travels. |
2023.06.07 11:08 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.07 10:11 NoDoctor4460 How the golf ball got its dimples, according to Wills’s Cigarettes card (1920s)
 | submitted by NoDoctor4460 to ephemera [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 07:59 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.07 06:50 tiocfaidharla75 Who is this wee fellow? Near Washington D.C., USA
 | Hi all!! I am not from the US originally and have a rather limited knowledge of local flora and fauna, though I am quite curious to learn! I’ve been living in the D.C. area lately and whenever I’ve been outside my doctor’s faffing about waiting for my appointments I’ve come by these wee critters. They seem to love to crawl onto me and my service dog, but otherwise seem pretty harmless, and are easily redirected with help of a leaf. They look really strange, and I’m deadly curious as to what they might be! For a description aside from the image itself, they’re very small (only some few millimetres), six-legged, black bodied bugs with relatively squishy, unarmoured black bodies that appear partially segmented perhaps? lined with a spiked pattern of bright yellow. They don’t really seem to do or eat anything that I’ve observed, though naturally I’m sure they must when I’m not about ha ha, and appear rather sluggish and unaware of their surroundings. So far as I can tell they aren’t very bitey (or, Jesus wept but I hope not!), though they are very interested in crawling about on me and anyone else nearby. I’m quite curious what they might be, and would love to hear any thoughts! submitted by tiocfaidharla75 to whatisthisbug [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 05:47 Screaming_Mosquito Does anyone want this thing growing in my backyard? Please say yes.
I've tried selling this thing for weeks now on Facebook Marketplace, eventually at just 1 cent because I just genuinely want it out of my hair. And I cannot find any takers. I want someone to just take it instead of throwing it out because honestly, I'm deeply nervous about what would happen if I did. But if this advertisement proves to be just as fruitless, I will do it despite my nervousness because my mind just can't take this anymore otherwise I'm afraid I'm going to have a psychological break with reality and need to be sedated.
I grew up originally in Northern California near Mt. Shasta, and four years ago I moved to the Big Island of Hawaii after I got a new job working for the university located in Hilo as an adjunct. The search for a place to rent where I could garden in the backyard took a while, but the wait was worth it. Gardening is like comfort food for my soul, and always has been ever since I was a little girl. My mom brought me up doing it, and I took to it immediately when I was just 3 or 4 she always liked to remind me.
I suppose the reason I wanted to leave California was the fact that she wasn't there anymore, that the last piece or vestige of my family was gone and I was all that was left of the life we used to have out there. I remember the day everything was packed up for the movers and ready to go, I walked outside to wait for a friend to pick me up to take me to the airport. As I sat there on my porch, I saw an elderly man walking in front of my front yard. It was an old friend of my mom's from the neighborhood. He had been very kind to me at her funeral as he had just lost his wife himself. We both waved at each other and I got up to chat with him one last time.
As it turned out, he was there to give me a going away present. It was a batch of strange seeds in a small sack. Some were colored burgundy, others indigo, and still others ivory with fascinating patterns on them. In total, there were 19 by my count. He said that before his wife passed away, she had originally intended to give them to my mom. Apparently, during one of their hiking trips around the mountain, the two of them kept stopping to see if someone was following them. Every time they would, some tree would rustle or a bush would make a quick, sharp noise indicating some sort of disturbance. Towards the end of their hike, they stopped one final time only for them to turn around and notice that someone had left this dingy little sack of seeds on a rotted out tree stump they had just passed. In other words, there was no question at that point that they had been followed.
For what reason? He couldn't say, though obviously the implication was that whoever it was wanted them to have these seeds. His wife died soon after that, before she could pass them along to my mother. He said he was hesitant to part with them after she died, but felt extremely guilty having waited too long to give them to my mom. Now that I was heading to Hawaii, he thought he ought to just give them to me instead of continuing to keep them. Other than that, he told me to be very careful with them, to specifically pour them out into the ground from the sack instead of touching them myself. And I wondered why. Like it's such an oddly specific thing to bring up about them.
Regardless.
I took them gratefully and thanked him for the gift and said that my mother would have loved them. Now, I'm not so sure she would have.
It was only a week or so after I had finally unpacked everything in my new place that I decided to garden again. And the first thing I planted, of course, were the seeds once meant for my mom. In memory of her. It was only one I put in the ground because honestly I wasn’t exactly sure how big this thing was going to grow to be. I wasn’t even sure what exactly this thing was even going to grow to be either. Turns out, it’s a vegetable… of some kind. I think. It’s almost like a yam? Like with the same texture and everything but with bright orange skin… and fur in strange places? Also, another thing, it’s like a yam but at the time of writing this it has most definitely grown beyond the size of a typical yam. Basically it’ll increase in size every week or so by a half a foot by my measure. Also, every time it grows by that much, another bulbous root pops out and burrows itself beneath.
And oh yeah there are little blue flowers (or what I guess you could call flowers) growing out of little nooks and crannies and just random spots all over. I’m not sure what to say. I have yet to identify it. If one of you reading this can, then good for you, would you like to take it off my hands in that case? Please? Okay well, I guess I better finally explain why I want this damn thing out of here. I’ve already ostracized myself at work trying to get people to take it, as well as trying to explain what makes me hate the thing, so what harm will come from making a bunch of internet strangers think I’m creepy or crazy?
The black and white of it is that every time this thing grows a half a foot, every time another root plants itself in the ground, every time another one of those little blue flower buds appears on it, something changes. About the world we live in. About our history. About how we live day to day. And no one seems to notice any of the changes except for me. Today in fact, I almost got into a fatal car crash after I woke up and took note of a new flower bud growing on the side of it facing my house. If you put a Bible in front of me and made me swear to God that I was going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I would swear on that, my life, and my late mother’s grave that I grew up knowing that Americans in all 50 states drive on the left side of the road.
I know you’re probably laughing at me. Because that’s what the person I almost ran into did when I told them. They wanted to know if I was British or something, and I said no I was born and raised in Northern California all my life. The closest I’ve ever even been to a foreign country is San Diego. But when I pulled over after that scare and looked it up on my phone, there it was. Americans drive on the right side of the road and pretty much always have. It’s just so… jarring. I have vivid memories of me death gripping the wheel to my mom’s Wrangler for the first time in my life, with her in the passenger seat teaching me the rules of the road for the first time. And I remember very clearly her telling me that no matter where I go in the United States or Canada, if I ever did that is, I would be on the left side of the road the entire time.
And I remember everyone else driving on the left side too. I remember them doing it yesterday. And now, everyone’s acting like it’s actually been this other way the entire time and that I’m somehow just noticing it. But I’m not “just noticing” it. It changed without warning me, to my abject frustration. This is what my life has been like since I planted it. I remember when it first sprouted. When I first started noticing the changes. The very first one I encountered were the changes made to the American flag. Again, swearing to God, on my own life, and on my late mother’s grave, I can attest that the American flag has always had 13, red and white, diagonal stripes. Not horizontal. Diagonal.
Again, I remember vividly sitting Indian style around our 1st grade teacher as she taught us some of the most basic history of the Revolutionary War. Particularly when it came to the Betsy Ross story. I remember being told that, when Betsy Ross first showed George Washington her initial design for the flag that it did indeed have horizontal stripes just like the one I suppose all of you are familiar with. But at the last second, he had her change them to be diagonal because he wanted to convey that the United States did not intend to be an empire in which some states would be perceived to be dominating the others by being “on top”. Making the stripes diagonal, to him, avoided this undesired symbolism.
I remember it all so clearly, even the little kitschy cartoon drawings in our school books of him with Betsy Ross as she showed him the final design. I remember reading about it in middle and high school. Hell, I even remember writing a 13 page essay for US History I in college that dealt with the subject. The paper of course, along with any historical record or proof of this detailed memory (digital or otherwise), is nowhere I can find it. It’s as if God or something turned the whole world into one big Wikipedia article and began editing reality at random with no one reverting the changes.
If you don’t think I’m crazy yet, then maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. When I noticed the plant had grown its eighth root, I learned for the first time in my life that Richard Nixon resigned over the Watergate scandal and not for having been outed as having had a nearly decade long affair with both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy at the same time as I thought I had been taught. I hadn’t even heard the term Watergate before that. In fact, I learned at the same exact time that apparently for decades since, the affix -gate had been attached to various other scandals and controversies as though it were a naming convention. Until that eighth root planted itself firmly in the ground, I had never once seen or heard of something like that before.
The day I noticed the very first flower to bloom on it, was the same day I found out there’s this little place near Long Island and New Jersey you may have heard of called New York City. You see, to me, that place has always been (and always will be in my mind as I cling onto what I know to be the truth) New Ithaca. Frank Sinatra’s famous song that is played every year on New Year’s Eve, has always been about the great city of New Ithaca, the Big Apple. The changes are just so weird and particular too. The whole general history of that city and state has remains the same though (at least to me), being that it was founded by the Dutch but was taken by the British and renamed before becoming a part of the United States. Only, instead the place was previously named New North Brabant whereas I suppose you have always known that New York used to be New Amsterdam.
There’s even a song about that bit of trivia, I learned. Catchy, and also cringe inducing for someone like me going through what I’m going through.
Actually the overwhelming bulk of changes have had to do with place names. Again growing up, I had it beaten into my brain that in 1492 Columbus sailed the Pacific blue. You heard that right. The vast puddle you probably call the Atlantic Ocean has always been the Pacific to me. And vice versa. Nebraska was a name I had not ever heard of before I measured another half foot in that damn thing’s already enormous length. To me that place was called the State of Fillmore. If before I measured it to be at 3 feet, you had asked me to point out Paris on a map, I would have stared at you blankly until I realized you probably meant to say Degaulleville which was built just northeast of the ruins of the ill-fated City of Lights after it was used as a testing ground for Germany’s most devastating weapon of WWII - the nuclear bomb.
Apparently in this new world the plant has created for me, it is our country that has the dubious honor of being the first military in the world to use nuclear weapons in an actual war.
And the list of changes I have just goes on and on like that. I’m not going to waste time spelling them all out for you. I’m sure that should be enough for you to at least hear me out or dismiss me as having had a break with reality. All I want now is this thing in my backyard, and these seeds to boot, out of here. Like I said in the beginning, I’d throw it away, but now that I suspect there’s some sort of link between it and all these changes being made, I worry what it could do to me if I yanked it out of the ground and chucked it into a dumpster. Degaulleville, Fillmore, etc. were erased by this thing. I could be too, if I made it mad enough.
There’s another part of me, a selfish part, that hopes if someone else takes it they can be the ones to have all these changes happen to instead. They can be the ones to watch desperately as what you once knew to be true, to be there, to be real, is all ground up and thrown away like it was nothing to bend your reality and leave you as the only one aware of it. I want that to happen to someone else instead of me. I want to be the one who’s oblivious to the changes made in the fabric and window dressings of reality. I want to be the one who reads the complaints and desperate cries of someone like me, and calls them crazy. I want want want that.
There’s another, tinier part of me, that naively hopes once I can leave this thing with someone else, it will change reality again but this time for the better. For the better, for me. Maybe once it starts affecting someone else adversely, it can change reality one more time to make my mom come back. To come back in a way that would make me forget she was ever gone. And then maybe I can go home, go back to the life I was used to living. But I know at the same time, there’s absolutely no reason it would do something nice like that for me.
Hell, if anything, it could decide to make things in reality, history, etc. worse for everyone including me. Like let me think… Okay for example, remember back in 1999 when everyone was afraid of the Y2K bug, but then it turned out to not be such a catastrophic ordeal as people were predicting? That damn plant could change things to make it so that Y2K’s catastrophic potential was fulfilled. Or wait, here’s a more recent example - remember like three or so years ago when there was that weird disease in China all the schools and governments got freaked out about for two weeks, warning about having to do lockdowns and stuff like that only for the Chinese government to successfully contain it before it could leave its shores?
I’d imagine the plant could change that history as well. And it’s not like I want any of that to happen, it’s just that I have little to no control over whether or not it will. And I just want to be free from being the only one to know it’s all happening. To notice it everyday. To have your heart and brain scratched at and tortured by it when you do.
So please, someone, anyone out there who can and is willing to take this thing off my hands knowing full well what it is - just DM me. I’ll give it to you at no charge or expense to you. I’ll even dig it out of the ground and drive to where you are (if you’re on the island that is) so you don’t have to get up and go anywhere. If you’re located somewhere else I’ll happily volunteer to pay all the associated shipping costs at my own expense as well in order to get it to you.
You’ll be my knight in shining armor if you do.
UPDATE: I am no longer in need of anyone to take this thing and these seeds off my hands. Thank you to the person that DMed me after I posted this. I got your email confirming that it safely arrived at your address as well. Also, glad to hear it’s grown another root. By glad, I mean that I am glad to know that it has grown yet again but this time I haven’t noticed anything changing. You have no idea what you’ve done to help salvage my sanity. Bless you.
submitted by Screaming_Mosquito to LetsReadOfficial [link] [comments]
I grew up originally in Northern California near Mt. Shasta, and four years ago I moved to the Big Island of Hawaii after I got a new job working for the university located in Hilo as an adjunct. The search for a place to rent where I could garden in the backyard took a while, but the wait was worth it. Gardening is like comfort food for my soul, and always has been ever since I was a little girl. My mom brought me up doing it, and I took to it immediately when I was just 3 or 4 she always liked to remind me.
I suppose the reason I wanted to leave California was the fact that she wasn't there anymore, that the last piece or vestige of my family was gone and I was all that was left of the life we used to have out there. I remember the day everything was packed up for the movers and ready to go, I walked outside to wait for a friend to pick me up to take me to the airport. As I sat there on my porch, I saw an elderly man walking in front of my front yard. It was an old friend of my mom's from the neighborhood. He had been very kind to me at her funeral as he had just lost his wife himself. We both waved at each other and I got up to chat with him one last time.
As it turned out, he was there to give me a going away present. It was a batch of strange seeds in a small sack. Some were colored burgundy, others indigo, and still others ivory with fascinating patterns on them. In total, there were 19 by my count. He said that before his wife passed away, she had originally intended to give them to my mom. Apparently, during one of their hiking trips around the mountain, the two of them kept stopping to see if someone was following them. Every time they would, some tree would rustle or a bush would make a quick, sharp noise indicating some sort of disturbance. Towards the end of their hike, they stopped one final time only for them to turn around and notice that someone had left this dingy little sack of seeds on a rotted out tree stump they had just passed. In other words, there was no question at that point that they had been followed.
For what reason? He couldn't say, though obviously the implication was that whoever it was wanted them to have these seeds. His wife died soon after that, before she could pass them along to my mother. He said he was hesitant to part with them after she died, but felt extremely guilty having waited too long to give them to my mom. Now that I was heading to Hawaii, he thought he ought to just give them to me instead of continuing to keep them. Other than that, he told me to be very careful with them, to specifically pour them out into the ground from the sack instead of touching them myself. And I wondered why. Like it's such an oddly specific thing to bring up about them.
Regardless.
I took them gratefully and thanked him for the gift and said that my mother would have loved them. Now, I'm not so sure she would have.
It was only a week or so after I had finally unpacked everything in my new place that I decided to garden again. And the first thing I planted, of course, were the seeds once meant for my mom. In memory of her. It was only one I put in the ground because honestly I wasn’t exactly sure how big this thing was going to grow to be. I wasn’t even sure what exactly this thing was even going to grow to be either. Turns out, it’s a vegetable… of some kind. I think. It’s almost like a yam? Like with the same texture and everything but with bright orange skin… and fur in strange places? Also, another thing, it’s like a yam but at the time of writing this it has most definitely grown beyond the size of a typical yam. Basically it’ll increase in size every week or so by a half a foot by my measure. Also, every time it grows by that much, another bulbous root pops out and burrows itself beneath.
And oh yeah there are little blue flowers (or what I guess you could call flowers) growing out of little nooks and crannies and just random spots all over. I’m not sure what to say. I have yet to identify it. If one of you reading this can, then good for you, would you like to take it off my hands in that case? Please? Okay well, I guess I better finally explain why I want this damn thing out of here. I’ve already ostracized myself at work trying to get people to take it, as well as trying to explain what makes me hate the thing, so what harm will come from making a bunch of internet strangers think I’m creepy or crazy?
The black and white of it is that every time this thing grows a half a foot, every time another root plants itself in the ground, every time another one of those little blue flower buds appears on it, something changes. About the world we live in. About our history. About how we live day to day. And no one seems to notice any of the changes except for me. Today in fact, I almost got into a fatal car crash after I woke up and took note of a new flower bud growing on the side of it facing my house. If you put a Bible in front of me and made me swear to God that I was going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I would swear on that, my life, and my late mother’s grave that I grew up knowing that Americans in all 50 states drive on the left side of the road.
I know you’re probably laughing at me. Because that’s what the person I almost ran into did when I told them. They wanted to know if I was British or something, and I said no I was born and raised in Northern California all my life. The closest I’ve ever even been to a foreign country is San Diego. But when I pulled over after that scare and looked it up on my phone, there it was. Americans drive on the right side of the road and pretty much always have. It’s just so… jarring. I have vivid memories of me death gripping the wheel to my mom’s Wrangler for the first time in my life, with her in the passenger seat teaching me the rules of the road for the first time. And I remember very clearly her telling me that no matter where I go in the United States or Canada, if I ever did that is, I would be on the left side of the road the entire time.
And I remember everyone else driving on the left side too. I remember them doing it yesterday. And now, everyone’s acting like it’s actually been this other way the entire time and that I’m somehow just noticing it. But I’m not “just noticing” it. It changed without warning me, to my abject frustration. This is what my life has been like since I planted it. I remember when it first sprouted. When I first started noticing the changes. The very first one I encountered were the changes made to the American flag. Again, swearing to God, on my own life, and on my late mother’s grave, I can attest that the American flag has always had 13, red and white, diagonal stripes. Not horizontal. Diagonal.
Again, I remember vividly sitting Indian style around our 1st grade teacher as she taught us some of the most basic history of the Revolutionary War. Particularly when it came to the Betsy Ross story. I remember being told that, when Betsy Ross first showed George Washington her initial design for the flag that it did indeed have horizontal stripes just like the one I suppose all of you are familiar with. But at the last second, he had her change them to be diagonal because he wanted to convey that the United States did not intend to be an empire in which some states would be perceived to be dominating the others by being “on top”. Making the stripes diagonal, to him, avoided this undesired symbolism.
I remember it all so clearly, even the little kitschy cartoon drawings in our school books of him with Betsy Ross as she showed him the final design. I remember reading about it in middle and high school. Hell, I even remember writing a 13 page essay for US History I in college that dealt with the subject. The paper of course, along with any historical record or proof of this detailed memory (digital or otherwise), is nowhere I can find it. It’s as if God or something turned the whole world into one big Wikipedia article and began editing reality at random with no one reverting the changes.
If you don’t think I’m crazy yet, then maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. When I noticed the plant had grown its eighth root, I learned for the first time in my life that Richard Nixon resigned over the Watergate scandal and not for having been outed as having had a nearly decade long affair with both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy at the same time as I thought I had been taught. I hadn’t even heard the term Watergate before that. In fact, I learned at the same exact time that apparently for decades since, the affix -gate had been attached to various other scandals and controversies as though it were a naming convention. Until that eighth root planted itself firmly in the ground, I had never once seen or heard of something like that before.
The day I noticed the very first flower to bloom on it, was the same day I found out there’s this little place near Long Island and New Jersey you may have heard of called New York City. You see, to me, that place has always been (and always will be in my mind as I cling onto what I know to be the truth) New Ithaca. Frank Sinatra’s famous song that is played every year on New Year’s Eve, has always been about the great city of New Ithaca, the Big Apple. The changes are just so weird and particular too. The whole general history of that city and state has remains the same though (at least to me), being that it was founded by the Dutch but was taken by the British and renamed before becoming a part of the United States. Only, instead the place was previously named New North Brabant whereas I suppose you have always known that New York used to be New Amsterdam.
There’s even a song about that bit of trivia, I learned. Catchy, and also cringe inducing for someone like me going through what I’m going through.
Actually the overwhelming bulk of changes have had to do with place names. Again growing up, I had it beaten into my brain that in 1492 Columbus sailed the Pacific blue. You heard that right. The vast puddle you probably call the Atlantic Ocean has always been the Pacific to me. And vice versa. Nebraska was a name I had not ever heard of before I measured another half foot in that damn thing’s already enormous length. To me that place was called the State of Fillmore. If before I measured it to be at 3 feet, you had asked me to point out Paris on a map, I would have stared at you blankly until I realized you probably meant to say Degaulleville which was built just northeast of the ruins of the ill-fated City of Lights after it was used as a testing ground for Germany’s most devastating weapon of WWII - the nuclear bomb.
Apparently in this new world the plant has created for me, it is our country that has the dubious honor of being the first military in the world to use nuclear weapons in an actual war.
And the list of changes I have just goes on and on like that. I’m not going to waste time spelling them all out for you. I’m sure that should be enough for you to at least hear me out or dismiss me as having had a break with reality. All I want now is this thing in my backyard, and these seeds to boot, out of here. Like I said in the beginning, I’d throw it away, but now that I suspect there’s some sort of link between it and all these changes being made, I worry what it could do to me if I yanked it out of the ground and chucked it into a dumpster. Degaulleville, Fillmore, etc. were erased by this thing. I could be too, if I made it mad enough.
There’s another part of me, a selfish part, that hopes if someone else takes it they can be the ones to have all these changes happen to instead. They can be the ones to watch desperately as what you once knew to be true, to be there, to be real, is all ground up and thrown away like it was nothing to bend your reality and leave you as the only one aware of it. I want that to happen to someone else instead of me. I want to be the one who’s oblivious to the changes made in the fabric and window dressings of reality. I want to be the one who reads the complaints and desperate cries of someone like me, and calls them crazy. I want want want that.
There’s another, tinier part of me, that naively hopes once I can leave this thing with someone else, it will change reality again but this time for the better. For the better, for me. Maybe once it starts affecting someone else adversely, it can change reality one more time to make my mom come back. To come back in a way that would make me forget she was ever gone. And then maybe I can go home, go back to the life I was used to living. But I know at the same time, there’s absolutely no reason it would do something nice like that for me.
Hell, if anything, it could decide to make things in reality, history, etc. worse for everyone including me. Like let me think… Okay for example, remember back in 1999 when everyone was afraid of the Y2K bug, but then it turned out to not be such a catastrophic ordeal as people were predicting? That damn plant could change things to make it so that Y2K’s catastrophic potential was fulfilled. Or wait, here’s a more recent example - remember like three or so years ago when there was that weird disease in China all the schools and governments got freaked out about for two weeks, warning about having to do lockdowns and stuff like that only for the Chinese government to successfully contain it before it could leave its shores?
I’d imagine the plant could change that history as well. And it’s not like I want any of that to happen, it’s just that I have little to no control over whether or not it will. And I just want to be free from being the only one to know it’s all happening. To notice it everyday. To have your heart and brain scratched at and tortured by it when you do.
So please, someone, anyone out there who can and is willing to take this thing off my hands knowing full well what it is - just DM me. I’ll give it to you at no charge or expense to you. I’ll even dig it out of the ground and drive to where you are (if you’re on the island that is) so you don’t have to get up and go anywhere. If you’re located somewhere else I’ll happily volunteer to pay all the associated shipping costs at my own expense as well in order to get it to you.
You’ll be my knight in shining armor if you do.
UPDATE: I am no longer in need of anyone to take this thing and these seeds off my hands. Thank you to the person that DMed me after I posted this. I got your email confirming that it safely arrived at your address as well. Also, glad to hear it’s grown another root. By glad, I mean that I am glad to know that it has grown yet again but this time I haven’t noticed anything changing. You have no idea what you’ve done to help salvage my sanity. Bless you.
2023.06.07 05:31 Screaming_Mosquito Does anyone want this thing growing in my backyard? Please say yes.
I've tried selling this thing for weeks now on Facebook Marketplace, eventually at just 1 cent because I just genuinely want it out of my hair. And I cannot find any takers. I want someone to just take it instead of throwing it out because honestly, I'm deeply nervous about what would happen if I did. But if this advertisement proves to be just as fruitless, I will do it despite my nervousness because my mind just can't take this anymore otherwise I'm afraid I'm going to have a psychological break with reality and need to be sedated.
I grew up originally in Northern California near Mt. Shasta, and four years ago I moved to the Big Island of Hawaii after I got a new job working for the university located in Hilo as an adjunct. The search for a place to rent where I could garden in the backyard took a while, but the wait was worth it. Gardening is like comfort food for my soul, and always has been ever since I was a little girl. My mom brought me up doing it, and I took to it immediately when I was just 3 or 4 she always liked to remind me.
I suppose the reason I wanted to leave California was the fact that she wasn't there anymore, that the last piece or vestige of my family was gone and I was all that was left of the life we used to have out there. I remember the day everything was packed up for the movers and ready to go, I walked outside to wait for a friend to pick me up to take me to the airport. As I sat there on my porch, I saw an elderly man walking in front of my front yard. It was an old friend of my mom's from the neighborhood. He had been very kind to me at her funeral as he had just lost his wife himself. We both waved at each other and I got up to chat with him one last time.
As it turned out, he was there to give me a going away present. It was a batch of strange seeds in a small sack. Some were colored burgundy, others indigo, and still others ivory with fascinating patterns on them. In total, there were 19 by my count. He said that before his wife passed away, she had originally intended to give them to my mom. Apparently, during one of their hiking trips around the mountain, the two of them kept stopping to see if someone was following them. Every time they would, some tree would rustle or a bush would make a quick, sharp noise indicating some sort of disturbance. Towards the end of their hike, they stopped one final time only for them to turn around and notice that someone had left this dingy little sack of seeds on a rotted out tree stump they had just passed. In other words, there was no question at that point that they had been followed.
For what reason? He couldn't say, though obviously the implication was that whoever it was wanted them to have these seeds. His wife died soon after that, before she could pass them along to my mother. He said he was hesitant to part with them after she died, but felt extremely guilty having waited too long to give them to my mom. Now that I was heading to Hawaii, he thought he ought to just give them to me instead of continuing to keep them. Other than that, he told me to be very careful with them, to specifically pour them out into the ground from the sack instead of touching them myself. And I wondered why. Like it's such an oddly specific thing to bring up about them.
Regardless.
I took them gratefully and thanked him for the gift and said that my mother would have loved them. Now, I'm not so sure she would have.
It was only a week or so after I had finally unpacked everything in my new place that I decided to garden again. And the first thing I planted, of course, were the seeds once meant for my mom. In memory of her. It was only one I put in the ground because honestly I wasn’t exactly sure how big this thing was going to grow to be. I wasn’t even sure what exactly this thing was even going to grow to be either. Turns out, it’s a vegetable… of some kind. I think. It’s almost like a yam? Like with the same texture and everything but with bright orange skin… and fur in strange places? Also, another thing, it’s like a yam but at the time of writing this it has most definitely grown beyond the size of a typical yam. Basically it’ll increase in size every week or so by a half a foot by my measure. Also, every time it grows by that much, another bulbous root pops out and burrows itself beneath.
And oh yeah there are little blue flowers (or what I guess you could call flowers) growing out of little nooks and crannies and just random spots all over. I’m not sure what to say. I have yet to identify it. If one of you reading this can, then good for you, would you like to take it off my hands in that case? Please? Okay well, I guess I better finally explain why I want this damn thing out of here. I’ve already ostracized myself at work trying to get people to take it, as well as trying to explain what makes me hate the thing, so what harm will come from making a bunch of internet strangers think I’m creepy or crazy?
The black and white of it is that every time this thing grows a half a foot, every time another root plants itself in the ground, every time another one of those little blue flower buds appears on it, something changes. About the world we live in. About our history. About how we live day to day. And no one seems to notice any of the changes except for me. Today in fact, I almost got into a fatal car crash after I woke up and took note of a new flower bud growing on the side of it facing my house. If you put a Bible in front of me and made me swear to God that I was going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I would swear on that, my life, and my late mother’s grave that I grew up knowing that Americans in all 50 states drive on the left side of the road.
I know you’re probably laughing at me. Because that’s what the person I almost ran into did when I told them. They wanted to know if I was British or something, and I said no I was born and raised in Northern California all my life. The closest I’ve ever even been to a foreign country is San Diego. But when I pulled over after that scare and looked it up on my phone, there it was. Americans drive on the right side of the road and pretty much always have. It’s just so… jarring. I have vivid memories of me death gripping the wheel to my mom’s Wrangler for the first time in my life, with her in the passenger seat teaching me the rules of the road for the first time. And I remember very clearly her telling me that no matter where I go in the United States or Canada, if I ever did that is, I would be on the left side of the road the entire time.
And I remember everyone else driving on the left side too. I remember them doing it yesterday. And now, everyone’s acting like it’s actually been this other way the entire time and that I’m somehow just noticing it. But I’m not “just noticing” it. It changed without warning me, to my abject frustration. This is what my life has been like since I planted it. I remember when it first sprouted. When I first started noticing the changes. The very first one I encountered were the changes made to the American flag. Again, swearing to God, on my own life, and on my late mother’s grave, I can attest that the American flag has always had 13, red and white, diagonal stripes. Not horizontal. Diagonal.
Again, I remember vividly sitting Indian style around our 1st grade teacher as she taught us some of the most basic history of the Revolutionary War. Particularly when it came to the Betsy Ross story. I remember being told that, when Betsy Ross first showed George Washington her initial design for the flag that it did indeed have horizontal stripes just like the one I suppose all of you are familiar with. But at the last second, he had her change them to be diagonal because he wanted to convey that the United States did not intend to be an empire in which some states would be perceived to be dominating the others by being “on top”. Making the stripes diagonal, to him, avoided this undesired symbolism.
I remember it all so clearly, even the little kitschy cartoon drawings in our school books of him with Betsy Ross as she showed him the final design. I remember reading about it in middle and high school. Hell, I even remember writing a 13 page essay for US History I in college that dealt with the subject. The paper of course, along with any historical record or proof of this detailed memory (digital or otherwise), is nowhere I can find it. It’s as if God or something turned the whole world into one big Wikipedia article and began editing reality at random with no one reverting the changes.
If you don’t think I’m crazy yet, then maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. When I noticed the plant had grown its eighth root, I learned for the first time in my life that Richard Nixon resigned over the Watergate scandal and not for having been outed as having had a nearly decade long affair with both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy at the same time as I thought I had been taught. I hadn’t even heard the term Watergate before that. In fact, I learned at the same exact time that apparently for decades since, the affix -gate had been attached to various other scandals and controversies as though it were a naming convention. Until that eighth root planted itself firmly in the ground, I had never once seen or heard of something like that before.
The day I noticed the very first flower to bloom on it, was the same day I found out there’s this little place near Long Island and New Jersey you may have heard of called New York City. You see, to me, that place has always been (and always will be in my mind as I cling onto what I know to be the truth) New Ithaca. Frank Sinatra’s famous song that is played every year on New Year’s Eve, has always been about the great city of New Ithaca, the Big Apple. The changes are just so weird and particular too. The whole general history of that city and state has remains the same though (at least to me), being that it was founded by the Dutch but was taken by the British and renamed before becoming a part of the United States. Only, instead the place was previously named New North Brabant whereas I suppose you have always known that New York used to be New Amsterdam.
There’s even a song about that bit of trivia, I learned. Catchy, and also cringe inducing for someone like me going through what I’m going through.
Actually the overwhelming bulk of changes have had to do with place names. Again growing up, I had it beaten into my brain that in 1492 Columbus sailed the Pacific blue. You heard that right. The vast puddle you probably call the Atlantic Ocean has always been the Pacific to me. And vice versa. Nebraska was a name I had not ever heard of before I measured another half foot in that damn thing’s already enormous length. To me that place was called the State of Fillmore. If before I measured it to be at 3 feet, you had asked me to point out Paris on a map, I would have stared at you blankly until I realized you probably meant to say Degaulleville which was built just northeast of the ruins of the ill-fated City of Lights after it was used as a testing ground for Germany’s most devastating weapon of WWII - the nuclear bomb.
Apparently in this new world the plant has created for me, it is our country that has the dubious honor of being the first military in the world to use nuclear weapons in an actual war.
And the list of changes I have just goes on and on like that. I’m not going to waste time spelling them all out for you. I’m sure that should be enough for you to at least hear me out or dismiss me as having had a break with reality. All I want now is this thing in my backyard, and these seeds to boot, out of here. Like I said in the beginning, I’d throw it away, but now that I suspect there’s some sort of link between it and all these changes being made, I worry what it could do to me if I yanked it out of the ground and chucked it into a dumpster. Degaulleville, Fillmore, etc. were erased by this thing. I could be too, if I made it mad enough.
There’s another part of me, a selfish part, that hopes if someone else takes it they can be the ones to have all these changes happen to instead. They can be the ones to watch desperately as what you once knew to be true, to be there, to be real, is all ground up and thrown away like it was nothing to bend your reality and leave you as the only one aware of it. I want that to happen to someone else instead of me. I want to be the one who’s oblivious to the changes made in the fabric and window dressings of reality. I want to be the one who reads the complaints and desperate cries of someone like me, and calls them crazy. I want want want that.
There’s another, tinier part of me, that naively hopes once I can leave this thing with someone else, it will change reality again but this time for the better. For the better, for me. Maybe once it starts affecting someone else adversely, it can change reality one more time to make my mom come back. To come back in a way that would make me forget she was ever gone. And then maybe I can go home, go back to the life I was used to living. But I know at the same time, there’s absolutely no reason it would do something nice like that for me.
Hell, if anything, it could decide to make things in reality, history, etc. worse for everyone including me. Like let me think… Okay for example, remember back in 1999 when everyone was afraid of the Y2K bug, but then it turned out to not be such a catastrophic ordeal as people were predicting? That damn plant could change things to make it so that Y2K’s catastrophic potential was fulfilled. Or wait, here’s a more recent example - remember like three or so years ago when there was that weird disease in China all the schools and governments got freaked out about for two weeks, warning about having to do lockdowns and stuff like that only for the Chinese government to successfully contain it before it could leave its shores?
I’d imagine the plant could change that history as well. And it’s not like I want any of that to happen, it’s just that I have little to no control over whether or not it will. And I just want to be free from being the only one to know it’s all happening. To notice it everyday. To have your heart and brain scratched at and tortured by it when you do.
So please, someone, anyone out there who can and is willing to take this thing off my hands knowing full well what it is - just DM me. I’ll give it to you at no charge or expense to you. I’ll even dig it out of the ground and drive to where you are (if you’re on the island that is) so you don’t have to get up and go anywhere. If you’re located somewhere else I’ll happily volunteer to pay all the associated shipping costs at my own expense as well in order to get it to you.
You’ll be my knight in shining armor if you do.
UPDATE: I am no longer in need of anyone to take this thing and these seeds off my hands. Thank you to the person that DMed me after I posted this. I got your email confirming that it safely arrived at your address as well. Also, glad to hear it’s grown another root. By glad, I mean that I am glad to know that it has grown yet again but this time I haven’t noticed anything changing. You have no idea what you’ve done to help salvage my sanity. Bless you.
submitted by Screaming_Mosquito to nosleep [link] [comments]
I grew up originally in Northern California near Mt. Shasta, and four years ago I moved to the Big Island of Hawaii after I got a new job working for the university located in Hilo as an adjunct. The search for a place to rent where I could garden in the backyard took a while, but the wait was worth it. Gardening is like comfort food for my soul, and always has been ever since I was a little girl. My mom brought me up doing it, and I took to it immediately when I was just 3 or 4 she always liked to remind me.
I suppose the reason I wanted to leave California was the fact that she wasn't there anymore, that the last piece or vestige of my family was gone and I was all that was left of the life we used to have out there. I remember the day everything was packed up for the movers and ready to go, I walked outside to wait for a friend to pick me up to take me to the airport. As I sat there on my porch, I saw an elderly man walking in front of my front yard. It was an old friend of my mom's from the neighborhood. He had been very kind to me at her funeral as he had just lost his wife himself. We both waved at each other and I got up to chat with him one last time.
As it turned out, he was there to give me a going away present. It was a batch of strange seeds in a small sack. Some were colored burgundy, others indigo, and still others ivory with fascinating patterns on them. In total, there were 19 by my count. He said that before his wife passed away, she had originally intended to give them to my mom. Apparently, during one of their hiking trips around the mountain, the two of them kept stopping to see if someone was following them. Every time they would, some tree would rustle or a bush would make a quick, sharp noise indicating some sort of disturbance. Towards the end of their hike, they stopped one final time only for them to turn around and notice that someone had left this dingy little sack of seeds on a rotted out tree stump they had just passed. In other words, there was no question at that point that they had been followed.
For what reason? He couldn't say, though obviously the implication was that whoever it was wanted them to have these seeds. His wife died soon after that, before she could pass them along to my mother. He said he was hesitant to part with them after she died, but felt extremely guilty having waited too long to give them to my mom. Now that I was heading to Hawaii, he thought he ought to just give them to me instead of continuing to keep them. Other than that, he told me to be very careful with them, to specifically pour them out into the ground from the sack instead of touching them myself. And I wondered why. Like it's such an oddly specific thing to bring up about them.
Regardless.
I took them gratefully and thanked him for the gift and said that my mother would have loved them. Now, I'm not so sure she would have.
It was only a week or so after I had finally unpacked everything in my new place that I decided to garden again. And the first thing I planted, of course, were the seeds once meant for my mom. In memory of her. It was only one I put in the ground because honestly I wasn’t exactly sure how big this thing was going to grow to be. I wasn’t even sure what exactly this thing was even going to grow to be either. Turns out, it’s a vegetable… of some kind. I think. It’s almost like a yam? Like with the same texture and everything but with bright orange skin… and fur in strange places? Also, another thing, it’s like a yam but at the time of writing this it has most definitely grown beyond the size of a typical yam. Basically it’ll increase in size every week or so by a half a foot by my measure. Also, every time it grows by that much, another bulbous root pops out and burrows itself beneath.
And oh yeah there are little blue flowers (or what I guess you could call flowers) growing out of little nooks and crannies and just random spots all over. I’m not sure what to say. I have yet to identify it. If one of you reading this can, then good for you, would you like to take it off my hands in that case? Please? Okay well, I guess I better finally explain why I want this damn thing out of here. I’ve already ostracized myself at work trying to get people to take it, as well as trying to explain what makes me hate the thing, so what harm will come from making a bunch of internet strangers think I’m creepy or crazy?
The black and white of it is that every time this thing grows a half a foot, every time another root plants itself in the ground, every time another one of those little blue flower buds appears on it, something changes. About the world we live in. About our history. About how we live day to day. And no one seems to notice any of the changes except for me. Today in fact, I almost got into a fatal car crash after I woke up and took note of a new flower bud growing on the side of it facing my house. If you put a Bible in front of me and made me swear to God that I was going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I would swear on that, my life, and my late mother’s grave that I grew up knowing that Americans in all 50 states drive on the left side of the road.
I know you’re probably laughing at me. Because that’s what the person I almost ran into did when I told them. They wanted to know if I was British or something, and I said no I was born and raised in Northern California all my life. The closest I’ve ever even been to a foreign country is San Diego. But when I pulled over after that scare and looked it up on my phone, there it was. Americans drive on the right side of the road and pretty much always have. It’s just so… jarring. I have vivid memories of me death gripping the wheel to my mom’s Wrangler for the first time in my life, with her in the passenger seat teaching me the rules of the road for the first time. And I remember very clearly her telling me that no matter where I go in the United States or Canada, if I ever did that is, I would be on the left side of the road the entire time.
And I remember everyone else driving on the left side too. I remember them doing it yesterday. And now, everyone’s acting like it’s actually been this other way the entire time and that I’m somehow just noticing it. But I’m not “just noticing” it. It changed without warning me, to my abject frustration. This is what my life has been like since I planted it. I remember when it first sprouted. When I first started noticing the changes. The very first one I encountered were the changes made to the American flag. Again, swearing to God, on my own life, and on my late mother’s grave, I can attest that the American flag has always had 13, red and white, diagonal stripes. Not horizontal. Diagonal.
Again, I remember vividly sitting Indian style around our 1st grade teacher as she taught us some of the most basic history of the Revolutionary War. Particularly when it came to the Betsy Ross story. I remember being told that, when Betsy Ross first showed George Washington her initial design for the flag that it did indeed have horizontal stripes just like the one I suppose all of you are familiar with. But at the last second, he had her change them to be diagonal because he wanted to convey that the United States did not intend to be an empire in which some states would be perceived to be dominating the others by being “on top”. Making the stripes diagonal, to him, avoided this undesired symbolism.
I remember it all so clearly, even the little kitschy cartoon drawings in our school books of him with Betsy Ross as she showed him the final design. I remember reading about it in middle and high school. Hell, I even remember writing a 13 page essay for US History I in college that dealt with the subject. The paper of course, along with any historical record or proof of this detailed memory (digital or otherwise), is nowhere I can find it. It’s as if God or something turned the whole world into one big Wikipedia article and began editing reality at random with no one reverting the changes.
If you don’t think I’m crazy yet, then maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. When I noticed the plant had grown its eighth root, I learned for the first time in my life that Richard Nixon resigned over the Watergate scandal and not for having been outed as having had a nearly decade long affair with both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy at the same time as I thought I had been taught. I hadn’t even heard the term Watergate before that. In fact, I learned at the same exact time that apparently for decades since, the affix -gate had been attached to various other scandals and controversies as though it were a naming convention. Until that eighth root planted itself firmly in the ground, I had never once seen or heard of something like that before.
The day I noticed the very first flower to bloom on it, was the same day I found out there’s this little place near Long Island and New Jersey you may have heard of called New York City. You see, to me, that place has always been (and always will be in my mind as I cling onto what I know to be the truth) New Ithaca. Frank Sinatra’s famous song that is played every year on New Year’s Eve, has always been about the great city of New Ithaca, the Big Apple. The changes are just so weird and particular too. The whole general history of that city and state has remains the same though (at least to me), being that it was founded by the Dutch but was taken by the British and renamed before becoming a part of the United States. Only, instead the place was previously named New North Brabant whereas I suppose you have always known that New York used to be New Amsterdam.
There’s even a song about that bit of trivia, I learned. Catchy, and also cringe inducing for someone like me going through what I’m going through.
Actually the overwhelming bulk of changes have had to do with place names. Again growing up, I had it beaten into my brain that in 1492 Columbus sailed the Pacific blue. You heard that right. The vast puddle you probably call the Atlantic Ocean has always been the Pacific to me. And vice versa. Nebraska was a name I had not ever heard of before I measured another half foot in that damn thing’s already enormous length. To me that place was called the State of Fillmore. If before I measured it to be at 3 feet, you had asked me to point out Paris on a map, I would have stared at you blankly until I realized you probably meant to say Degaulleville which was built just northeast of the ruins of the ill-fated City of Lights after it was used as a testing ground for Germany’s most devastating weapon of WWII - the nuclear bomb.
Apparently in this new world the plant has created for me, it is our country that has the dubious honor of being the first military in the world to use nuclear weapons in an actual war.
And the list of changes I have just goes on and on like that. I’m not going to waste time spelling them all out for you. I’m sure that should be enough for you to at least hear me out or dismiss me as having had a break with reality. All I want now is this thing in my backyard, and these seeds to boot, out of here. Like I said in the beginning, I’d throw it away, but now that I suspect there’s some sort of link between it and all these changes being made, I worry what it could do to me if I yanked it out of the ground and chucked it into a dumpster. Degaulleville, Fillmore, etc. were erased by this thing. I could be too, if I made it mad enough.
There’s another part of me, a selfish part, that hopes if someone else takes it they can be the ones to have all these changes happen to instead. They can be the ones to watch desperately as what you once knew to be true, to be there, to be real, is all ground up and thrown away like it was nothing to bend your reality and leave you as the only one aware of it. I want that to happen to someone else instead of me. I want to be the one who’s oblivious to the changes made in the fabric and window dressings of reality. I want to be the one who reads the complaints and desperate cries of someone like me, and calls them crazy. I want want want that.
There’s another, tinier part of me, that naively hopes once I can leave this thing with someone else, it will change reality again but this time for the better. For the better, for me. Maybe once it starts affecting someone else adversely, it can change reality one more time to make my mom come back. To come back in a way that would make me forget she was ever gone. And then maybe I can go home, go back to the life I was used to living. But I know at the same time, there’s absolutely no reason it would do something nice like that for me.
Hell, if anything, it could decide to make things in reality, history, etc. worse for everyone including me. Like let me think… Okay for example, remember back in 1999 when everyone was afraid of the Y2K bug, but then it turned out to not be such a catastrophic ordeal as people were predicting? That damn plant could change things to make it so that Y2K’s catastrophic potential was fulfilled. Or wait, here’s a more recent example - remember like three or so years ago when there was that weird disease in China all the schools and governments got freaked out about for two weeks, warning about having to do lockdowns and stuff like that only for the Chinese government to successfully contain it before it could leave its shores?
I’d imagine the plant could change that history as well. And it’s not like I want any of that to happen, it’s just that I have little to no control over whether or not it will. And I just want to be free from being the only one to know it’s all happening. To notice it everyday. To have your heart and brain scratched at and tortured by it when you do.
So please, someone, anyone out there who can and is willing to take this thing off my hands knowing full well what it is - just DM me. I’ll give it to you at no charge or expense to you. I’ll even dig it out of the ground and drive to where you are (if you’re on the island that is) so you don’t have to get up and go anywhere. If you’re located somewhere else I’ll happily volunteer to pay all the associated shipping costs at my own expense as well in order to get it to you.
You’ll be my knight in shining armor if you do.
UPDATE: I am no longer in need of anyone to take this thing and these seeds off my hands. Thank you to the person that DMed me after I posted this. I got your email confirming that it safely arrived at your address as well. Also, glad to hear it’s grown another root. By glad, I mean that I am glad to know that it has grown yet again but this time I haven’t noticed anything changing. You have no idea what you’ve done to help salvage my sanity. Bless you.