#and I miraculously managed to approach this from a HUMAN perspective

[lumpofwhump]

The Scavenger and the Forgotten, Part 1: The Rescue

Whumpay 2022, Day 1: "I'm not leaving you."

Summary: A survivor of a societal collapse finds the last surviving subject held captive in an abandoned government laboratory.

Content: Lab whump, captivity whump, non-human whumpee, conditioned whumpee, older whumpee, non-human caretaker, reluctant caretaker

Radu yelped at the muffled cheer from the other side of the thick cell wall. It was the first voice he'd heard since he'd been unceremoniously dumped in Room 4236. He couldn't have said when that had been; the only measure of time that made sense in this most restrictive form of captivity was Before and During.

For all intents and purposes, the cell had become an oubliette for the Ganymedean Ministry of Science's last genetically modified subject. The guards, deprived of the entertainment of seeing the now old and useless labby get violently scrapped by his younger, stronger counterparts by a last minute reprieve, had left him in here until they could think of something better… or worse, from his perspective. Now weakened by starvation, he doubted whether he could make it through the door five feet in front of him even if they'd left it unlocked.

His breath caught in his throat at the sound of approaching footsteps. Slower, more cautious, than staff had generally been. Still, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud beep of an ID badge opening the door.

There was no way the person who entered a moment later was a labtech, at least, as she was wearing a threadbare brown coat rather than a uniform. Besides, it was rare to see a xeno on staff, and the young woman's jade skin, long pointy ears, and antennae poking out of her mess of curly hair immediately identified her as a Girn. Still, he slammed his back against the wall with force he wouldn't have thought he could still manage, his eyes going wide at the gun trained on his head.

"Please, please, don't… don't shoot! Don't hurt me," he rasped, his shoulders hunched as he raised trembling hands to shield his face. "I've been wiped… I can't... I won't try anything! I've been wiped!"

--

Clee had picked her way through the last of the debris leading up to the gates of Satellite Office 43. The building was as bland and institutional as its name, its importance suggested only by the coils of barbed wire atop the fences. Or what remained of them, at least. From the look of things, the rumors were true: this last, lonely laboratory had fallen, just like the government running it had done a few months ago. Liberated by a roving gang of escaped genmods if the subjects were lucky. Raided for captives or cleared out with gunfire if they weren't.

Whoever had done it, they'd been helpful enough to also smash open the checkpoint gate so a scavenger like her didn't have to navigate the jagged edges of cut fence. The palm scanner - its screen cracked but otherwise apparently functional - beeped in ineffectual protest as she passed through without authorization. The place seemed abandoned now, thankfully. There was no one to pressgang her into joining this or that militia, or shoot her on sight for being an offworlder (as if she'd had a choice in that). No one to compete for whatever valuable equipment, information, or better yet, medication might still be there. If she could find even a few vials of the stuff the labs kept their subjects hooked on, she'd have enough to leave Ganymede within a day.

She found an abandoned staff badge almost immediately - only a little bloodstained, nice - but after that her luck seemed to run out. She picked up a few guns, but precious little ammunition. Most of the equipment still there had evidently been too heavy for even the most modded-out escapee to carry off. She'd almost given up when she reached the top floor several hours of mostly fruitless searching later.

But then… score. A room with several medication freezers, miraculously untouched. The sealed bags of human blood were a nice find, but it was nothing compared to the pack of twenty four vials, each of them labeled "LYCADONE 4.O ML.: GOVERNMENT USE ONLY."

She couldn't contain a loud whoop of triumph. Forget traveling in a smuggler's cargo hold, this would get her the kind of money she could buy a passport with, and have enough left over to hop on a fucking yacht out of Jovian space if she felt like it.

Her brief daydreaming was cut short, though, by a startled cry from the next room over.

Nice job, Clee, she thought, grabbing for one of the guns that still had a couple of rounds in it and looking for cover. But after a couple long, tense minutes, all she could hear - and only if she listened closely through the thick walls - was quiet whimpering. She crept over to the next door over, pausing again before she opened it with the pilfered staff ID.

The creature on the other side - and that was the only word to describe the sorry sight she was now looking at - immediately yelped and cowered as the door slid open. "Please, please, don't… don't shoot! Don't hurt me! I've been wiped… I can't... I won't try anything! I've been wiped!" he begged in a voice so hoarse she could barely understand him.

The guy was nothing like the nightmarish images of murderous genmod mercenaries who destroyed entire villages in the occupied territories back home. In fact, he looked absolutely decrepit. He had pale, wrinkled skin drenched with panicked sweat. His body was short and heavyset, though bits of sagging skin suggested he hadn't eaten anytime recently. Battered bits of exoskeleton framed long, chipped ears. His hair was patchy in places, but what remained was long, stringy, and filthy to the point that she couldn't quite make out what color it would've otherwise been. The fingers he held out were webbed, but the thin membranes of skin between them were almost ragged, littered with holes and tears. The one yellow eye she could see may at one point have been described as striking, but now it was bleary and wide with terror.

She lowered her weapon. "…The fuck?!"

--

Radu breathed out shakily as the stranger pointed the gun at the ground, but his body didn't relax. He flinched at her sharp tone.

Had she believed him? Would it matter if she did?

"P-please, miss," he repeated, moving his hands away from his face in a gesture of surrender.

"It's been a while since anyone's called me 'Miss,'" the Girn replied, sounding amused, almost. He gave her a nervous smile, hoping it was the right response, but his face fell when she recoiled. “Shit, someone really did a number on your teeth, huh?" she asked. Not exactly warmly, but just hearing someone talk about him without cruelty in their voice was an immense relief.

He nodded sheepishly, looking down and away such that greasy strands of hair fell over his face. "Miss -- I mean my…" He swallowed. She'd never been his, even if he had been hers. "The staff. Said I needed to… I. I didn't listen," he finished in a small voice.

"Ooookayyyy," the woman in front of him said, still looking immensely uncomfortable, but added flippantly, "Well, whoever she is, she's gone."

Radu felt his stomach drop. "G-gone?!" he squeaked out.

"Ah - ! How… long have you been in here now?"

He shook his head and gave a hopeless shrug.

"Alright then. So. I've got some news," she said, her tone not putting him at ease at all.

--

Great, Clee thought five minutes later, after she'd told him what had happened in the last little while. She'd gone and broken whatever was left of this poor bastard's mind. She'd thought he would've been happy -- this meant he was free, right? Instead, he'd slumped over onto the floor, head pressed against the ground, letting out a long whine of what sounded like despair.

"Hey! Hey," she said, using her most comforting tone. Unfortunately, as she knew from experience, she was never very good at being comforting. "It's… it's alright." It wasn't entirely a lie, at least.

The subject sniffled, not looking up.

"You're out of here. No more Miss Staff Whatsherface, no more cells, nothing," she tried. "You can go wherever you want."

This was apparently the very worst thing she could have said. He looked up at her with a confused, tearful, desperate expression, grabbing and tugging at his hair as he let out a sound that somehow managed to be more pathetic than the last. Clee shifted with discomfort, wondering if this was what being "wiped" did to a person… whatever that meant. In any case, this helpless blob of a person was as good as dead if he stayed here.

Really?! she silently demanded of the Wanderer, the Sacrifice, or whatever other supernatural force might be responsible for putting her in this position. As always, though, no one was there to get her out of the mess she'd landed in.

She sighed, put her gun away, and approached slowly, keeping her hands visible. Still, at the sound of her footsteps, he shrank away from her, letting out a weak cry of surprise as his butt hit the wall. She crouched a few feet away, trying not to think about what was on the floor beneath her. "Look, I'm sorry, but we've gotta go. We'll figure things out along the way, just, I can't leave you here. What's your name, by the way?" When the only response she got was another terrified stare, she added, "I'm Clee, by the way."

He nodded, not looking at her. "Radu," he mumbled finally. Then, if struggling to remember, "E22… 18… R7."

"I'll just stick with Radu," Clee said. "So second question. Can you get up and walk on your own?" She really, really hoped the answer would be yes, but she had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't be so lucky.

--

Radu tried his best to do as Clee had asked of him, he really did. But he stumbled, his weak, aching legs barely able to support the rest of him. And it was abundantly clear that Clee didn't want to touch him if she could at all avoid it, grimacing as she gripped even the parts of him still covered by the tattered remains of his lab-issue uniform to help keep him on his feet.

She didn't let go though, and just like she'd promised, she didn't leave him. For that, he was immensely grateful. Together, they slowly, carefully, made it down to the ground floor.

And then they were out into the open, past the checkpoint and into the darkened domed city he barely remembered. He nearly tripped over some of the debris littering the street as he took it all in. The city he knew, before he'd been sent back, was gone. The only familiar thing was the giant orb of Jupiter looming over them in the night sky.

"Welp, we're not making it back to Xenotown tonight," Clee cut in, interrupting his thoughts. "If we're lucky, we can find a working shower in one of these places." She gestured to the concrete apartment buildings around them, some of them still mostly intact.

His eyes shot open in fear. "The curfew, though," he protested weakly. "Genmods aren't allowed in places like this…!"

"Yeah, and who's enforcing that anymore?" Clee answered, her ears flicking in a dismissive gesture. "Besides, everyone who could has left. There'll barely be enough people to notice, and we'll have our pick of places."

She once again made good on her promise, finding them an abandoned one-room apartment on the eighth floor of the first building they found with a working elevator. Radu stood in the middle of the room with overwhelmed amazement at everything that had been left here - a vid screen, an old recliner, and best of all an actual bed - while Clee rummaged through all the drawers and cabinets.

"Hey, so I've gotta go make a run for -- what? What's wrong?" Clee broke off with a look of concern upon seeing his face.

Radu's eyes had gone wide. "No, please - please don't leave," he stammered shakily. "I'm sorry, I'm not ready, I don't know how to, to… please stay…?" he finished, his voice breaking as he braced for the inevitable punishment for his outburst.

Instead, Clee gave him an exasperated smile. "Hey," she said. "I haven't ditched you yet, have I?"

He tried to return the smile, but it didn't quite work.

"Just give me an hour, alright? Go get cleaned off, and I'll be back with food. Aaaand new clothes," she added hastily with another grimace at his general appearance.

He nodded mutely, and trudged off to the bathroom, shoulders slumped. His heart sank when, a minute later, Clee opened the door and, with a casual "See ya," left the unit.

Earlier that day, a shower would have seemed like an unimaginable luxury, especially compared to the freezing hosings-off he'd become used to in the labs. The previous occupants had even left soap and a washcloth. He didn't even have the energy to take off his soiled clothes, though, instead turning the water on, and sliding slowly down the wall to huddle in the corner of the tiny stall, pulling his knees up to his chest with difficulty as the lukewarm water washed over him.

Clee was gone. She wouldn't be back, she had no reason to be back, not when the one person who'd actually known him had…!

Radu pressed his face into his knees and sobbed.

**

Next: Something Like Safety

World building by me and @soheavyaburden

#whumpay2022 #oc whump #lab whump #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman caretaker #older whumpee #reluctant caretaker #broken whumpee #conditioned whumpee #whump writing #abused whumpee #starvation #captivity whump #captive whumpee

[underatedcharactersunite]

Summary; Geralt encounters a vampire, who shares a similar story as him, she’s the not the monster he’s been told she is. But what happens when she needs to feed?   Pairing; Geralt of Rivia x  Vampire!Female Reader WordCount; 1, 780 Warnings. Strong Language, Blood Drinking, Angst, fluff, sexual underlying themes.   A/N - Day 3, you can read Day 2 here

                                    »»————-　🎃　————-«

Geralt had encountered many creatures within his life. Some cruel and wicked. Some misunderstood and desiring change. Geralt never kept brought work into his travels, until Geralt met you. He was supposed to kill you and provide your head to the man who hired him, but he couldn’t.

When Geralt tracked you down, he was expecting a bloodsucker monster.  A woman so cruel, he believed he was in for a tough battle ahead of him. However, what he found was a juxtaposition of the stories he had heard. Instead, you were skipping with a group of children in the street.

“I know what you’re doing here Witcher, give me five a few more moments before my time, would you.” Geralt watched on as the children reacted positively with you. While the coin was a coin, Geralt suspected the man who paid him to be misleading him.

You kept your promise as you left the children, providing them with the empty promise, without so much of a word you wandered into the woods understanding your fate. You had lived many centuries, miraculously surviving without little hassle. Until you crossed that disturbing, wicked wrinkling old man who decided it was a brilliant idea to strike his wife and Daughter. Threatening the elderly man had gained you the presence of a Witcher, brilliant.

“Get it over with Witcher. I understand you have a job that must be done. I am too old for games.” Whirling around to face him, you got your first proper glance at the white-haired man who was here to kill you.

“You’re not going to fight for your life. I heard you’ve fought an army of thousands before.” Rolling your eyes, you examined him sceptically.

“Do you believe every word a low life abusive bastard tells you? Here I was under the impression you were a man of intelligence and perspective.  I’ve encountered many Witchers in my life, most of them corrupt and money-hungry. I was under the impression you would be different. Guess I was wrong. Enough of the mindless chatter kill me already.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Cocking your eyebrow, this Witcher confused you more and more by the second. This Witcher was not like anyone you had ever encountered before. If he refused to kill you, then what was his plan? The spineless man was hardly going to allow him to get away with it.

“Then what are you going to do with me? Are you going to lock me away and keep me as your prisoner? I’ve been a prisoner to a Witcher before it didn’t end well for him so it won’t end well for you.”

“I’m sure it would, but I won’t keep you a hostage. You must leave this place and get as far as away from here as possible. I see no threat.” Stepping forward, you examined his golden orbs, searching for something, anything.

“This place has been my home for the past fifty years. The people in this place, know what monster of the night I am. Except they don’t fear me, they were able to see my cold heart. They realised I cared about them when I had to I protected them against man or beast. I’ve battled people of my kind to protect these people. So tell me, Witcher, where do you suspect I go now. I presume you’ve experienced similar prejudice to myself.”

“Anywhere that’s safe. You’ve adapted well enough. You’re able to walk around in the sun now. You will find somewhere new.” Rolling your eyes, it was clear this Witcher was continuously on the move. You wondered how often he was forced to camp out in the woods because humans wouldn’t expect him.

Suddenly a rustling in the tree’s broke your concentration, your senses heightened. A brown-haired man came tumbling out of the brushes.

“Excuse the interruption Geralt, but it appears that this beautiful creature here has nowhere to go, so why doesn’t this, seductive, alluring creature come with us. I’m Jaskier by the way, tell me have you ever slept with a human before.”

“I didn’t know Witcher’s travel with overly flirtatious humans? Can’t say I’m not flattered by your remarks. Also thank you for introducing Geralt to me. However, Geralt is right, and I’ll be going now. It was nice to meet you, Jaskier…Geralt.”

You quickly began your descent into town so you could gather your belongings. While you had left the sanctity of the forest, you could still hear Geralt and Jaskier bickering away.

“What did you do that for!? She could have helped you! She understands what it’s like to be misunderstood, and you’ve just let her go! What makes it worse, the entire time you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.”  

“Jaskier!”

“You need to stop pretending the world is against you. If she travelled with us, she could give you a break. What happens when you get injured again?”

“I will handle it.”

If you don’t ask her to come with us, then I will.“

“Fine, she can come with us. Go ahead and ask her she could say no.” Moments later, you heard someone running towards you. You knew it was Jaskier, so you awaited for him outside.

“I take it you’ve heard every word?.” You nodded, a moment later you were approaching Geralt alongside his horse. The three of you began your travels into a world and journey completely unknown.

Travelling with Jaskier and Geralt was easier than you presumed. The three travelled between city and city locating work in order to get paid. A witcher, A vampire and a bard was an unusual combination but it managed to work.

Although it was a struggle to locate a viable food source, the last couple centuries you had alternated between human and animal blood which to your surprise worked. Biting from a human always appeared an intimate aspect, someone’s neck was frequently a place for kissing and biting when in a passionate embrace with one another. Perhaps that’s why you refused to feed on Jaskier.

Whilst you cared deeply for the Bard, something in your heart created a feeling of guilt for even entertaining the idea, especially when you found your gaze analysing Geralt at every precise moment. Not to mention that the hunger you were currently experiencing, you were terrified that you might kill him.

Geralt had become aware of your situation. Some days, you refused to sit by Jaskier or informed them you required some time alone and camped a mile or so away from them. Geralt knew you believed you were doing it to protect them both, but deep down every time you left camp to be by yourself, Geralt feared you had decided to leave him.

One day, Geralt decided to follow you. Immediately you were furious with him. Geralt did not understand why he needed to stay away. You were a threat now to both of them. Did he genuinely believe that you desired to break away from them whenever your cravings for blood became so detrimentally bad that you feared you were the threat?

“You need to come back with me? It is dangerous for you to be out here on your own.” Looking over to Geralt, your ideas reflected the colour of what you desperately needed. The everyday shade of your eyes had a faded away while the crimson blood colour had replaced it.

“Geralt you need to stay away from me right now! There is no threat because I am the threat! I could hurt you or Jaskier.” Geralt’s large frame stepped in-front of you, despite you trying to step away from him, the distinctive smell of metal flowed through his body.  You couldn’t be near him, not now not until you had hunted something.

“Fed on me.” Due to Geralt’s sheer size and height difference, bent his knees slightly so you could have perfect access to his neck.

“Are you out of your mind!? There’s a chance I could effortlessly drain you of all your blood. Who’s going to take care of Jaskier then, who will protect him?” Geralt uttered another word he brought his lips down harshly onto yours.

“This isn’t about Jaskier right now this is about you. What happens to both of us if you die? What then? Will saving you that day be for nothing? Jaskier doesn’t want to lose and if we’re being honest neither do I. I’ve spoken more to you in the past several weeks than I have spoken in years. So feed on me.” Geralt’s declaration left you speechless his lips quickly returned to yours as he grasped you into his thick arms picking you up.

“I do not desire to hurt you Geralt of Rivia.”

“You will only hurt me if you allow yourself to starve to death.”

You refused to bite down on Geralt’s neck straight away. Reclaiming Geralt’s lips to your’s, the intimacy of the moment rose evermore. Kissing Geralt was everything you believed it would be. It was rough and passionate, an intoxicating feeling one that you were sure you would never of. As Geralt exposed his neck to you, you couldn’t quite believe that Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken was submitting to you. While still managing to press burning kisses onto your own throat. As your fangs grew, you placed searing kisses repeatedly onto Geralt’s neck, before you picked the perfect spot and bit down harshly. “There you two are. I was wondering where the two of you had got too. Is this a private thing or can anyone join?” “Jaskier!”

#geralt imagines #geralt imagine #the witcher imagine #the Witcher imagines #geralt one shot #geralt oneshot #the witcher one shot #the witcher oneshot #geralt of rivia imagine #Gerald of Rivia imagines #Gerald of Rivia oneshot #Geralt of Rivia one shot #deansamoreendofyearchallenge #spooktober 2020

[spectrumed]

1. piano

The brain is a musical instrument. How it sounds all depends on who is playing it. The keys, the strings, the tubes, the circuits, none of them make noise on their own. Some may argue (some very aggressively) that every instrument has one exact way that it should be played. That there is one correct way to play the piano, and then there’s several incorrect (deviant!) ways to play the piano. But a classically trained pianist will not play the piano in quite the same way as a self-taught jazz pianist will play the piano. Sure, the latter does employ some stylings unique to them. They have an idiosyncratic way of playing that makes their sound highly notable, possibly even sought after. While the former, the classically trained musician, they’ve been taught to minimise many of those quirky individual traits that could, potentially, distract from the classical compositions that they will be playing. In jazz, music is carried by unique characters and a strong sense of individualism. In classical, music is carried by tradition, norm, and history.

It should not be understood that the classically trained musician plays without soul or passion. While we, in the western world, have become more and more infatuated with the idea of the self-made artist, the amateur who makes their way to success and stardom solely through will, and quite often a manic compulsion to create, there is no wrong way to play an instrument. However you make it work, whatever sounds you are able to produce, you are playing that instrument. You are channeling your inner essence into the music you are performing, no matter what genre you belong to. No-one plays their instrument the exact same way, for certain, but everyone is playing with what they’ve got.

How do you think? You’re used to being asked “what do you think?” But how do you think? Do you see pictures in your head? Do you experience an inner monologue? Are you riddled with anxiety? Have you ever hallucinated? Do you think that you think good, or do you think that you think bad? If we return to our metaphor of the brain as a musical instrument, what sort of music do you think you’d play? Sure, there’s the classical world, and the jazz world, but of course, that’s hardly the music most people will listen to nowadays. Do you think in pop songs? Or do you think in big heavy metal epics? Or maybe what you are is a maniac for dance music. You may find like-minded friends who like the same kind of music as you do. I think that there is a correlation between what music we like and how we perceive the world. Does listening to a certain song send you back? Does a certain tune evoke memories that you may have thought were long since gone? I know that there are some folks out there who say that they do not care much for music, and while I don’t doubt that they absolutely do feel that way, I can personally not imagine where I’d be without my trusty set of headphones and my phone loaded up with a wide library of music I like. It seems to me that music is primal. Almost as if only by understanding music, can one come to understand consciousness. To nab a song title from Jethro Tull (the band, not the agriculturalist,) life is a long song.

But I do admit that I come from a biased perspective. Music means much to me. I’m no musician, but I think that partly stems from a desire to not see “how the sausage is made.” I’d like to be able to listen to a composition without feeling compelled to analyse it, or to study it. I’d rather eat the sausage without having to wonder what bits of the animals this meat came from. Is that the taste of a spleen or a testicle? There are plenty of other things in life to dissect and tear apart just to examine. Perhaps what I wish is to maintain an arcane approach to music. Perhaps I am too enamoured by the idea of the musician as a mystic able to tap into an elevated state of being, some spiritual realm divorced from our own. That look on the guitarist’s face when they successfully manages to convey just the right emotional tone perfectly with that solo. The frisson you feel when the song reaches its climax. That thing we call the sublime. To explain it, well, it simply feels like you are making something splendid mundane. It seems to rob it of its power. Or… Well, maybe that’s not it all. Maybe all I want is just a moment or two when I can relax and avoid thinking about things. For a moment, I’d just like to forget that I’m a person.

The world is so loud. Really, I can guarantee you that if you didn’t have those natural mental filters that we all have, you’d go insane. Every little sound. Every little bit of stimuli. It would all overwhelm you. It would burrow deep into your consciousness, and it would refuse to leave. Ever tried to fall asleep while hearing the dripping water from a leaky tap? Drip, drip, drip. Know how impossible that feels? Well, imagine if you had that feeling always, imagine if all noise felt that visceral and in-your-face. Lucky you’ve got those filters. Turns out, not everyone has them. I don’t. It fucking sucks.

Music is lovely, because music is organised. It has structure. You can listen to a song, remember it, and then follow along as you’re listening to it a second time. Music follows a pattern. There is a logic to patterns. But the everyday noises that surround us do not follow a pattern. Let me tell you, birds are infuriating animals. Sure, their individual little songs can be nice to listen to, but when all the birds of the forest come together, they don’t perform as an orchestra. No, they’re all just doing their own solo piece, completely oblivious to the sounds going on around them. I’m thinking that nature could have done well with a conductor. Someone competent to create order. To make it all just that bit more peaceful. I don’t have those filters others take for granted. I can’t ignore sounds. And that makes the world feel so loud.

It is neat to imagine the human brain as a musical instrument. You can imagine that seasoned player, that old session stalwart who’s played on all the most famous pop hits throughout the decades, and you want to imagine them playing with grace and finesse and showcasing all the amazing sounds that the instrument can produce. But the brain isn’t really some marvel of biological engineering. It’s not intelligently designed. It’s actually just a piece of meat hiding underneath layers of bone, skin, and hair. It’s a complex bit of meat, admittedly. It’s hard to understand exactly how the brain does work. But if you were to open up a person’s cranium, rather than feeling awe, you’d most likely feel grossed out. This thing that we’re supposed to think of as a miraculous product of millennia of evolutionary progress, it looks… Well, it looks awfully pinkish, and wrinkly, and frankly unpleasant.

We’re all mortal beings, made from squishy flesh and blood, scraped together from all that was available at the time. Sure, we may dream and fantasise about one day achieving those heights we aspire towards, to become that perfect superman, whose cognitive abilities put them on par with the mythological titans of the past. But really, we’re all just trying to do our best with what we’ve got. You may not be able to play the finest of Mozart’s many symphonies, the instrument that you’ve been given just simply isn’t up to snuff. Even if all you can play is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, that shouldn’t weigh on your value as a human being. And besides, that’s still Mozart you’re playing.

I will undoubtedly get back to discussing music in later instalments of this blog. It is truly a major part of my world, and without the joys I associate with it, I would be in a far worse place. But I think that, ultimately, what I wish to arrive at, is the fact that our sensory perceptions have a significant impact on how we piece together our sense of self. While it may be an unnerving thought to consider, what would happen to our understanding of ourselves if we one day were to lose one of our major senses? I am sure that many people could go without their sense of smell. Humans have long since abandoned smell as a dominant sense. To a dog, on the other hand, to lose its sense of smell would be devastating. It would lose part of what it means to be a dog. For humans, we enjoy the scent of freshly baked bread, the whiff of somebody’s perfume, or the bouquet of some pricey bottle of wine. But that’s nothing to what dogs get out of their sense of smell. To a dog, its sense of smell is its world. Is a dog even a dog if it can’t sniff around? Do you think dogs ever take their sense of smell for granted?

I do not think that humans are what we eat, but I suspect that we may be what we perceive. Our consciousness does not exist independently of the world that surrounds it, but rather, it is formed by the outside stimuli it receives on a constant basis. The fury of noises, lights, smells, all kinds of impressions, it shapes you. It is what our memories are built on. I am not at all certain that there exists anything more to the mind beyond that. I doubt that we’ve got some immutable soul hidden underneath it all. Humans are the collection of thoughts and ideas that we’ve attached ourselves to throughout our lives, and naturally, if you’re neurodivergent, that process is going to happen differently to most. At times those differences will be large enough that it can create real conflicts with those others around you. Effectively, to be neurodivergent is to suffer constantly from culture shocks. To me, it is natural to loathe the cacophony of birds in the summer. Their screams feel like piercing needles embedding themselves into my skin. But I try telling that to others, and I’ve yet to find anybody who agrees with me.

So, am I just wrong? Am I mistaken? Am I a freak? Why can’t I just be like everybody else? Why must I be such a buzzkill? I can’t even enjoy birdsong, I really must be a pain to be around. How did it come about that I just can’t be normal? Normal. I want to be normal. It is and it will likely always be grossly underrated to just be normal. Normal people don’t know how good they have it. They’re just too normal to be able to perceive it. When you’ve never been without it, you don’t know what it is to miss it. Normalcy. Having a normal brain. Having others see you as a normal person. Only if you didn’t have it, would you know how great it is. Do you sometimes wonder if dogs know how much they’d miss their sense of smell if they ever were to lose it?

Then again, there is no such thing as normal, is there? If you were to take the world’s most average person, then that person would be abnormal. To be a person is to be unique. We’re all special snowflakes. Aren’t we?

You may not play your instrument in a conventional manner, but who’s to say what manner counts as conventional? It’s all just so arbitrary. Who’s to say you can’t play an acoustic guitar as a drum? Who’s to say you can’t treat your piano as a percussion instrument? Smack your cello with a flute, if you’d like. Isn’t it just delightful when you see a unique performer who is able to play their instrument in a way you could never before have conceived it being played? The novelty of it all. The absolute joy of being exposed to something different. Of seeing something that can barely be believed. You love things that are unusual, and you think people who are different should delight in being different. Surely, it is better than being normal and boring?

But is it all that bad to be boring? And you may love what’s different, but when it comes down to it, despite your positive inclination, you still perceive it as being the other. It is not you. It is not mainstream, it is underground. Secluded. Deviant. Those who truly do struggle to fit in with society, to be just like everybody else, they are constantly faced with these little reminders that they just don’t belong. They are humans (at least they think they are humans,) but they’re not like other humans they know. For as much as they get told that they should embrace their quirky nature as simply being who they are, it is hard to know what it is like to be not normal, when all you’ve ever been is normal. Sure, for a performance or two, it’s fun. It’s fun to get the attention, to be seen as having something others don’t have. But then, at the end of the day, all you want is to be able to fall asleep, without the birdsong outside your window keeping you awake.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

[kitty0boy]

You know the drill. Marichat time with a dash of Adrienette. It is Adrienette April after all, I’ve gotta do a little something. Mari is 17 Adrien is 18, I’ll use “...” to show changes in perspectives as per usual.

——————————

Adrien thought it would be a calm Tuesday, nothing special would happen. He’d somewhat memorized Hawkmoth’s schedule and learned that he didn’t usually release akumas on Tuesdays. For what reason? Nobody knows. Maybe he needs breaks from all of his crushing defeats. I mean seriously, how old is this guy? Can’t even defeat two teenagers and he’s been trying for what, almost three years now?

He let his mind wander during the ride to school. Even though he could legally drive now, his bodyguard still had to make sure he made it to school safe. At this point, he’d rather the Gorilla adopt him, he made a much better father than his own already. Even if he is paid to do it. No one was waiting for him at the front when he arrived, which was refreshing. There were usually swarms of fangirls waiting to escort him inside, especially after one of his photo shoots. They had become much more, revealing lately. What with him being and adult now. Which was difficult seeing as how he still had to go to school with teenagers that would tear him to shreds for an autograph. Unfortunately though, Nino wasn’t even at the front.

He stepped out. On his right he saw a group of girls wearing shirts with his face or his name on it, and in front stood a cute petite woman wearing a black skirt and a pastel green t-shirt. She was very angry, pointing at them, apparently telling them off. The other girls looked back and forth at each other before they spotted him. They nearly trampled Marinette as they made their way over. “Oh please Adrien, can I have your autograph?” One of them practically shoved a notebook up his nose, “Can you sign my shirt?” One of them said, turning around. A bright flash blinded him as one of the girls took a photo. He felt a hand on his shirt as one of them tried to take it off. “Umm,” he backed away, uncomfortable “sorry but I have class.” He managed to push through them and walked up to Marinette. “Hey, can I walk to class with you?” He nearly pleaded, he didn’t want to be left alone with them if he could help it, usually Nino ushered him inside but he wasn’t here for some reason. “Sure, I was about to ask you anyways, those girls were about to rip you apart.” He rubbed his neck.

He was glad Marinette was more comfortable around him now. Sure she didn’t always stammer in front of him when they were younger but she never seemed fully comfortable to be with him either. She seemed comfortable now though, looping her arm through his as they walked into the school. “So I’m going to assume you made this yourself?” She nodded in response. “The paw prints took furever to sew on too.” He giggled, “Clever, and where are these pawpurrints” he punned back. She pinched the hem of the skirt to show him, his eyes went wide for a minute. “Oh calm down I’m wearing shorts underneath.” He sighed in relief and squinted at the prints. Sure enough there were tiny paws sewn around the hem, almost as if a kitten stepped in green paint and walked around her skirt. “Wow, you’re stitching is purrfect.” She laughed, “Thank you, it’s taken years of purractice. I’m sure you could do it too.” “No way, I couldn’t pawsibly match the purrfection that is Marinette’s craftsmewnship.” The pairs laughed as they entered the classroom, their friends were huddled in a group, caught up in a friendly debate.

“Oh hey Mari, Adrien.” He waved, “What are we talking about?” Alya crossed her arms, “Well I think Mr. Superhero has moved on from his bugaboo but some of us aren’t convinced.” He could confirm Alya’s theory, he had moved on from Ladybug. In fact the person he moved onto had just walked him to class, but she couldn’t know that yet. Not until Hawkmoth’s defeat anyways, he didn’t want to hurt Marinette like he hurt Kagami. Alix sat in the back of the class with her feet propped up on the desk, as sucker in her mouth as usual. She smiled coyly at him. Ladybug had given her the rabbit miraculous already which gave her insight to everything in his life. Possibly Ladybug’s life too. “There’s no way he’s moved on,” was Rose rebuttal, “He still flirts with her, he’s clearly still in love.” Was he flirting with Ladybug? He though he was just being friendly, he’d toned it down a lot at least. Marinette snorted, “Oh come on Rose he flirts with everyone.” Alya quirked her head “Girl what are you talking about? No he doesn’t.” Marinette crossed her arms, “Oh yes he does. The first time Nathaniel was akumatized, Ladybug had me go on a date with him to trap him.” Nathaniel blushed, “And Chat Noir came by to tell me the plan. You wanna know what he did?” Marinette put on her best smirk and turned to Alya, “Hey I haven’t even introduced myself,” she mimicked, grabbing Alya’s hand and getting on one knee, “I’m Chat Noir.” She kissed the back of the bloggers hand and stood up. “And then he started flexing and saying things like ‘don’t worry you’ll be save with me.’ And when I asked about Ladybug he said ‘she’s busy with something tonight so, you get to be my Ladybug.’ Honestly he’s a flirty as they get.” She concluded and crossed her arms. The girls just stared at her in shock. His chest felt hot and he quickly rubbed the back of his neck as if it would cool him down. How did she even remember that?

“Marinette I have met Chat Noir on multiple occasions and he’s never flirted with me like that.” Marinette turned her head to the side adorably. “But what about when you were Rena Rouge? I saw him getting real chummy when your sisters were the Sapotis.” Alya grinned, “I think that was more to make his lovebug jealous. Well, ex-lovebug because we’ve clearly found out who has the cat in the bag.” Marinette waved her arms in front of her, “Hang on now, this happened years ago. Who says he has a crush on me?” Alix snorted and everyone stared, she hand her phone in her hand and was starring at it, clever little cover up. Juleka raised her hand, muttering “Actually he was on your balcony last night.” The class gasped and Alix stifled a laugh. Adrien tried really hard to remain neutral, which was really difficult seeing Marinette’s pink face. “He just stopped by because he was bored, I’m sure he stops by lots of people’s houses.” Everyone else shook their heads, Chloe decided to speak up. “Well he stops by the hotel to get milk but he doesn’t speak to me.” Then Lila stalked up to the front, “Well actually I know who Chat Noir fancies now, and it’s certainly not Marinette.” Adrien stood, “Oh really now?” He challenged crossing his arms. “Yes it’s quite embarrassing but it’s actually me.” The class gasped but Marinette laughed. “Ok now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Chat Noir doesn’t even like you.” Rose turned to Marinette, “Now that’s quite rude, I’m sure Chat Noir doesn’t dislike anyone.” Marinette raised her hands in surrender, “Ok sure but he doesn’t fancy her either.” Adrien was glad Marinette was on his side rather than believing her. Since Lila had joined the Agreste foundation, he’s had to do very uncomfortable photo shoots with her. And with summer right around the corner, bathing suits would be in soon and he wished for time to slow down. Lila had already been way to touchy with him, now picture that but basically naked. Not his idea of a dream come true to say the least.

“Well then,” Alya crossed her arms and hip bumped Marinette “we’ll just have to assume he’s in love with you then.” Marinette’s face turned a deep red which made Alya smirk “And it seems the feeling is mutual.” Marinette hid her blushing face before a Giant and very familiar hand picked her up and carried her out of the school. “August!” She screamed in surprise. While the class was distracted Adrien snuck out and transformed in the hallway before leaping over their heads and onto the roof. Thankfully, preschooler August was much easier to speak with than toddler August. “Pretty doll.” He said, starring at Marinette.

Chat flicked his bell to get Gigantitan’s attention, “You’re right, very pretty.” He winked at her before turning back to August, “But she’s not yours, is she? We shouldn’t take things that aren’t ours.” August bent down to Chat Noir’s face, “She’s not yours either, finders keepers.” He smirked, “Hey now, we never said she wasn’t mine. But either way there is a big difference between dolls and humans. So put her down and we can talk about this like big boys.” August contemplated for a second. Chat Noir had learned from his last battle with him that August was a big boy now, a lesson he learned the hard way.

Coming to a decision, August stood up straight, and dropped Marinette. “No!” He sprinted off the rooftop and dove after Marinette. She reached for him and he grabbed her, pulling her flushed to him and spinning mid air as he collided with the sidewalk. Marinette sat up, completely unaware of their very compromising position. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned his attention to August “Oi! Big boys don’t drop pretty girls August.” Marinette laughed and butterflies fluttered around his stomach. “Well this pretty girl thanks you for the save kitty.” She flicked his bell and smiled at him. August made an other swipe at Marinette and Chat rolled them over into another compromising position, praising the fact that Marinette had worn shirts today. Marinette blushed up at him before he dug an arm under her back and stood with her. “What do you say to a game of keep away?” She smirked, “I say game on kitty.”

After defeating August and returning him to his school, Chat brought Marinette back to their school. Their whole class whooped and cheered and whistles at the pair. Alya approached clapping slowly as he slid down his staff with an arm wrapped around Marinette’s waist. “Well would you look at that. Someone is smitten.” He pretended to be confused. “What are we talking about now?” Nino walked up and looped his arm around Chat’s shoulders. “Oh just the fact that you and Marinette seem awfully, what was the word you used earlier Marinette? Chummy.” He continued to play dumb, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re stalking about civilian.” Alix, who was much taller than Marinette now, strode over and took Marinette’s hand. “Come here a second.” She lead Marinette to the center of the group, in front of him. He gave her a look that said ‘Alix I’m going to kill you.’ She smirked back and lifted their hands above Marinette’s head, spinning her around. Her skirt flew in all directions and her lose hair glided gently in the breeze. Alix smirked at him, “There’s your proof. Absolutely captivated.” He was so going to get back at her on patrol later. He made a pact to stop dating until Hawkmoth’s defeat and for the past few months, she was absolutely no help. He laughed it off, “Well like I said, she’s a pretty girl, especially in my colours.” He grinned at her blushing face.

“As lovely as this Chat was I’ve got places to go, things to see. I bid you all fair well.” He turned and started walking away but he didn’t get far before a hand grabbed his bell, spun him around, and kissed him. He pulled back in disgust as Lila grinned up at him. “I did miss you last night kitten.” She cooed, and poked him in the chest. A very angry Marinette made her way over to them with a water bottle. She shoved Lila away held it out to him “Rinse.” She instructed and he did, taking a big swig of water and swallowing. Then Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and, standing on her toes, kissed him.

That was much better. You know what? Screw the pact, he closed his eyes and let the butterflies in his stomach emerge and fly around them. It was almost like they were in a world of their own. He smiled against her and lifted her so he could smile up at her. Each kiss sent a bolt of lightning through him and the cheers of their classmates just barely reached his ears. An angry Lila tried to run away but Juleka and Rose stopped her and started lecturing her about consent. He wanted to spend a lifetime just like this. With her legs and arms wrapped around him, the world was peaceful. There was no Hawkmoth, no Lila, no danger.

She pulled back and smiled at him, “Purromise that won’t happen again.” He grinned, “Believe me purrincess, I don’t want to kiss anyone but you.” He spun her around before putting her down and giving her a quick kiss goodbye. “See you tonight?” She asked, he nearly combusted on the spot. “That is a very dangerous questions my dear.” She smirked “Do I seem like the type to run from danger?” He laughed, this girl was going to be the death of him. “No you almost certainly aren’t.” In an attempt to make her blush as much as he was, he bent down and kissed her exposed collar bone. “I will see you tonight then.” Before she could tease him back, he leapt away.

Adrien emerged from the restroom and the second Alix spotted him she grinned and approached. “Broke the pact I see, how’s that kiss?” He smiled, “Worth it.” She laughed at him. “It’s about time too, you do realized she’s had a crush on you for ages right?” “Oh I knew that, one time she confessed to me and I had to go over to her house for breakfast with her parents, that was awkward. I was still in love with Ladybug you know?” Alix stared at him, “Hang on was this as Adrien or Chat?” He looked at her confused. “Chat, who else?” She laughed at him, “Must have been a fleeting attempt to get over a Mr. Adrien Agreste.” His eyes widened, “Wait she had a crush on Adrien, me?” She nodded, “It stopped about a year ago, seems she moved on to, well, you.” He smacked a hand to his forehead, “Mon dieu, I could have dated her in civilian form all this time?” Alix grabbed a sucker from her pocket and handed it to him. “Don’t worry model boy, once we defeat Hawkmoth you can snog her to your hearts content as yourself.” He popped the sucker into his mouth. “You know, August loves these things.” He said crumpling the wrapper in his pocket. “Oh really? I’ll be sure to give one to the pretty lady next time he gets akumatized.” He really hoped there wouldn’t be a next time, for his heart’s sake.

———————————

That’s all for this fic, thanks for reading!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous lb #marichat fanfic #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alix kubdel

[personalcoachingcenter]

Coaching Model: Mindfulness Attracts Power

New Post has been published on https://personalcoachingcenter.com/coaching-model-mindfulness-attracts-power/

Coaching Model: Mindfulness Attracts Power

A Coaching Model Created by Andrijana Ilic (Transformational Coach, SWITZERLAND)

My passion for people development comes from the satisfaction of knowing that each human can intensify his progress towards being the person he wants to be and the life he wants to have. The idea of supporting people to reach a miraculous achievement in terms of success, well-being or health, motivates me strongly.

This individual improvement brings satisfaction and fulfillment. I believe that the sum of all individual progression and satisfaction, in the end, creates a positive impact on a collective approach. My background in HR and the transformation of organizations has shown me how their performance can be limited because of missing individual progression that would create productive and creative skills, high engagement, and finally happiness at work.

I felt how much the personal life and professional life of each human were interconnected.  Year after year, I lived different experiences as an HR manager and in my challenging and successful life, in which I was surprised by how some exchanges create an empowering effect that brings clarity, and the ability to choose well and act towards achieving dream goals. This underlies my will to deeply reinforce my skills in people development, to use them to express the best of myself and to support.

My goal is to support people in the best way to empower them to achieve a high level of performance, fulfillment, and happiness in their lives. I believe that the more people are engaged in all necessary transformational processes, the more this will have a positive effect on all collectives (groups to which they belong) and that this is useful for all humanity from a philanthropic perspective.

My coaching model has based on the concept that my role is that of a life and business strategist, through which I will efficiently facilitate, using high-level coaching techniques, the way clients reach the highest level of clarity they can to act efficiently regarding what they really expect for their life. It is like shining “the light” on their own true, their deepest being, their ideal life, and exceeding all of their potentials and talents with the elevation and the power of their intelligence.

In substance, my model is not totally accurate because it will always be adjusted to the characteristics of the clients regarding their ripeness and clarity on who they are, what they want, what they are capable of, how they will achieve it. The idea is to adopt a powerful coaching approach that can empower as soon as possible each human.

I will support the client to create his MAP (Mindfulness Attracts Power) regarding four key aspects (www.h-performance.fr) of himself by becoming more:

Mentally clear

Spiritually open

Emotionally stable

Physically healthy

The metaphor of the “map” comes from the idea that clarity brings a better view of what we are, where we are, where we are going, and how to go there. Like a map, it is an abstract drawing of reality because it shows information about an area, a position, and a direction that realistically exists, and we use it to go where we want or where we have to go.

In the transformational coaching program that I offer, we will build for the client the ability to draw his own MAP and also to redraw by himself again his own MAP in the future if necessary. This would be based on the elevation of the mind’s abilities for strategic skills that will bring him, with time, the power to attract and create what the client wants for himself (how he feels, he thinks, he appears) and his life (the experiences he lives).

We will work in a systemic way with a complementary approach regarding the four pillar skills: mental skills, spiritual skills, emotional skills, and physical skills. The word “skills” means the ability to do something. We will create a map that will produce more and more mental mastery, spiritual, emotional, and physical skills. The improvements and focus of these abilities will create the power to attract that which he wants.

The process would necessarily start with a kind of “diagnosis” to get to the mutual clarity of where the client is now. It will be useful to see the awareness and satisfaction level regarding who he is and how his life is going. In general, the client will seek help because he has a specific issue, but we will have to dig deep to check the real roots of that and have a 360 degrees view around this specific issue to adjust the transformational process. It will be necessary to assess with the client what seems defective and dissonant in his life to define what primarily needs to be changed.

However, the purpose of my coaching model is not based exclusively on problem-solving. It is also about focusing on the recognition and gratitude for the positive aspects of the client’s life to generate the positive energy necessary for facing the issues effectively.

Mentally Clear

We will activate the ability to be inspired in different ways. It is about picturing vividly the desirable future that the client seeks and using his imagination skills to see how life would be for him with the possibility of unlimited abundance. It may be useful to invite him to spend more time with people who inspire him and sourcing stories and information that makes sense for him regarding his values, his needs, his dreams.

Unlocking the main limiting beliefs would be key to supporting him in building a clear vision of what he really wants and how he can act to achieve it. It is fully connected to whom he really is and to his life purpose.

It is a question of helping the client to elevate their as much as possible his consciousness to have strong clarity on where he is now, where he wants to go, what abilities he can improve to achieve what he wants. Furthermore, it is also necessary to shine a light on the benefits for the client if he is really engaged in achieving these goals.

What would be important is supporting the client to feel strongly the need to resonate with his strong will and to attract what he wants (Attraction law).

Spiritually Open

To reinforce the powers that the client has, we should support him to exceed the limited image that he has himself and live. With some feedback or information sharing about the latest discoveries of new sciences or the main universal spiritual learning of humanity, we can widen his perception. This helps him feel his higher self and how is a part of extremely powerful energy.

It is a trust-building process, knowing that the universe will bring him what he really wants if he really resonates with that. Then it is necessary to be in a certain state of letting go and detachment regarding our own needs, to get to a feeling of fulfillment and trust. We need to help the client understand as much as possible his own engineering and to connect him with the unconditional faith that will empower him to connect better with the rest of the universe and to his values, his strengths, his gratitude.

Emotionally Stable

It is about improving the emotional intelligence of the client to a higher consciousness of different dimensions of emotions. We talk about heart intelligence too and about good coordination between the heart and brain activity (as explained by Gregg Braden or Joe Dispenza scientists).

We will help the client to be better connected with the emotions of joy and love that are the most powerful for a fulfilled life. The obstacles to the feelings of joy and love can be explored. It is also about improving empathy skills but with the ability to fix the necessary boundaries. No judgment, slowing down to get better to a rational analysis will be useful. The ability to forgive deeply and to feel gratitude will support the client in his life.

The emotions should become a tool to help the client to recognize whether he is on the good road in his MAP regarding where he plans to go.

Some relaxation exercises or meditation may be done to give to the client the possibility to face stress management more effectively.

We will also explore whether there is some emotional hurt for which an expert should also work in parallel with the coaching program.

Physically Healthy

Here, we will explore the level of satisfaction of the client regarding this aspect of his life. We will define what would be new habits to integrate to be highly satisfied with his body and care for it and use it as an advantage to achieve what he really wants in life.

There is a powerful driving force inside every human being that, once unleashed, can make any vision, dream, or desire a reality. Tony Robbins

Learn How to Create Your Own Coaching Model

Your Coaching Model reflects your values, philosophies and beliefs and must communicate who you will coach and the problems you will solve. Read more about creating your own coaching model

Original source: https://coachcampus.com/coach-portfolios/coaching-models/andrijana-ilic-map/

#achieve all your goals #attract #attract anything in your life #attract love #attract love music #attract miracles #attract money #attract money fast #attract money now #attract money subliminal #attract positivity #attract pure clean positive energy music #attract your dreams #best personal development coaching #business success #coaching #executive coaching #how to attract things in reality #increase brain power #leadership coaching #life coach #life coach for women #life coaching #life coaching 101 #mindfulness #mindfulness mantra #mindfulness meditation #mindfulness meditation for anxiety #online coaching #optimize your success

[qqueenofhades]

Hi there, I really liked what you had to say about the upcoming election. I was wondering if you have published any articles recently in regards to that? I know you said you were a historian.

Aha, thank you so much, this is very flattering. Alas (?), the book that I have just published is about the crusades, as I am a medieval historian by training. However, one of my main research interests is the role of the “imagined medieval” in modern culture, I have written a book chapter about the role of the crusades in post-9/11 political and cultural rhetoric, and I am developing a research project that examines the current crisis of public history through a medievalist perspective. That, however, is still in draft stages.

That said, I absolutely DO have a mini reading list for you (and a lecture to go with it, because as noted, I am an academic and this is how we function!) The topic of today’s class is “Why Accelerationist Ideology Is And Always Has Been Horrifically Racist and Genocidal Throughout History, and White Americans Only Like It Because They Don’t Live In Countries Where It Was Done (By America).” Not very snappy, but there you have it.

The reading list, to start off, is:

The Cold War: A World History by Odd Arne Westad

The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism by Naomi Klein

The Silk Roads: A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan

Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America by Ibram X. Kendi

Drift: The Unmooring of American Military Power by Rachel Maddow

The Bridge Betrayed: Religion and Genocide in Bosnia by Michael Sells

These are all hefty books (though the Maddow and Sells books are shorter) but they’re accessible and written for the layperson, and we always have time to educate ourselves. Why are they relevant to the 2020 election, you might ask?

First: the Cold War book lays out in great, GREAT detail the consequences of a global world order absolutely gripped by a competing standoff of ideologies (American capitalism vs. Soviet socialism) and how these two forces gulped up the politics of the rest of the world, destroyed numerous satellite states, and tried to rebuild them from the ashes into new ideological utopias -- precisely what a lot of people are suggesting now with the ridiculous “just burn everything down and it will magically fix itself!” theory that is somehow presented as the Moral Alternative to voting for Biden/Harris. You know what this caused during the Cold War? Yep. Human suffering on a massive scale, and absolutely zero utopian perfect states, whether capitalist or socialist. It also makes the extremely salient point that in the 1930s, German leftists and liberal democrats were infighting among themselves as to who was Less Morally Pure, and couldn’t agree on a candidate or a moral imperative to oppose the other guy, and figured that their flawed liberal idealists were “just as bad” as said other guy. Was that guy’s name Adolf Hitler? Why yes. Yes it was. Is there a lesson here for us? Who can say. Seems hard to figure.

Leaving aside the tragedy and pointlessness of the Korean and Vietnam Wars, both fought as proxy battlefields between Americans and Soviets, let’s consider the Great Leap Forward, in China (1958-1962) under Chairman Mao Zhedong. The idea was to dismantle traditionalist Confucian Chinese society and rebuild it as a modern socialist state, which was the goal of a lot of twentieth-century old-school socialist/Marxist “people’s republics.” Mao took this exact “burn conservative society down and rebuild it according to Enlightened Leftist Principles” approach and it was... a disaster. A total and epic disaster that caused both short and long-term suffering to the Chinese people and, wouldn’t you know it, did not result in a utopian Chinese state. This is also the reason you cannot say anything complimentary about Fidel Castro, especially if you want to win Florida, no matter how “good” you think his socialist principles were in the abstract, because: Cubans and Cuban-Americans fuggin’ hated the guy. You know why? Because he also destroyed their lives.

Obviously, there is a ton of distance between old-school Communism in the 20th century and 21st-century modern democratic socialism such as that run in Norway (and the Scandinavian countries in general), no matter if your racist uncle on Facebook insists on conflating the two and howling about the Red Menace like it’s still 1962. But the point is that radical leftist accelerationist theory hasn’t changed from 1962 (or frankly, from Karl Marx) either. It still figures that by some miraculous principle, the entrenched systems and ideologies will either just disappear or be “torn down,” the Peasants will Rise Up and Overthrow the Aristocracy, and something something socialist utopia. Except that was tried multiple times in the 20th century and it always failed. More than that, even if it was supposedly “leftist,” it inflicted just as much suffering on its own people as fascist right-wing dictatorships. Americans have always been infused with the triumphalist confidence that they “won” the Cold War because socialism was bad, and it was the inherent flaws in socialism as a world order that doomed it to defeat, unlike rah-rah Red White and Blue American Capitalism. So capitalism, ignoring its own fatal flaws, went hog-wild in the 80s and 90s, establishing Reaganite deregulation as the core and unimpeachable tenet of the market, and we’re all living in the increasing wreckage of that economic system now. Obviously the right wing uses “socialism” as a bugaboo to scare us that Things Could Be Worse, but I haven’t seen the faintest trace of historical context or awareness from the particularly deluded breed of hard leftists who still cling onto the magical theory that a Perfect People’s Uprising Will Fix Everything.

On that note, let’s move to Naomi Klein. The Shock Doctrine lays out in similar excruciating detail how the U.S. systematically destroyed the economic systems of countries particularly in Asia and Latin America (and the entire shameful history of Uncle Sam in Latin America should be required reading for EVERYONE) and sold them a bill of goods about “free market economics” in the Keynesian model. Guess what resulted from this attempt to destroy entrenched societies overnight and rebuild them in the name of Ideology? If you guessed “massive human suffering and ongoing generational devastation and dysfunction” you’d be right again! This was accompanied with constant political interference from the CIA and the State Department to support right-wing dictators and military takeovers in a way that have left the politics and institutions of Central America in permanently broken disarray, because it turns out it’s a lot easier to keep exploiting those brown people in governmental systems that don’t allow dissent or democracy, no matter the exalted principles you like to preach about Freedom and Liberty. The U.S. likes to act as if the Central American refugee crisis is this unwarranted invasion of these dirty immigrants, as if it didn’t play a DIRECT AND LONG LASTING EFFECT in destroying the infrastructure of these countries to the point where they’ve become incapable of functioning as healthy democracies. If you think “banana republic” is the name of an upscale clothing store, I beg you, research the history of that term.

This hasn’t even gotten to the absolutely horrible history of Africa’s treatment at the hands of white Europeans (see the Kendi book for obvious anti-racism education and also how those racist ideas are directly built into the ideological infrastructure of America). Somehow white leftists, while professing to be allies of Black Lives Matter and proclaiming themselves Woke, have managed to overlook this, and I don’t know how??? (Answer: it’s racism Jan.) First it was the transatlantic slave trade and the large-scale kidnapping, sale, and chattel bondage of generations of people. Then it was 19th-century colonialism and imperialism, where Europe thought it could “civilize” the “Dark Continent” and rebuild it to an “enlightened standard.” This was not a right-wing project; this was solidly mainstream and it was enthusiastically advocated by many liberals and intellectuals who busily composed an entire academic and “scientific” literature to support it. Did the European wholescale destruction of traditional societies in an attempt to build a Perfect Ideological Utopia result in... massive human suffering, by any chance? Leopold II of Belgium might have something to say about that. Then when an overstretched Europe was finally forced out of its overseas colonies in the aftermath of World War II, guess what resulted? Did African society spring from the ashes and remake itself in a perfect image? Nope! It became subject to decades-long civil wars and bloody military dictators because its infrastructure had been so crippled (very deliberately so) by its departing colonialist overlords that it likewise had no sustainable model for development. It turns out when you break things out of the idea that they’ll magically fix themselves, they just stay broken and they get worse. Now we once more have the West acting like Africa is a hotbed of Primitives while ignoring its own role in destroying it (and the situation in the Middle East, but that’s a whole OTHER can of worms! So many cans! So many!)

The Peter Frankopan book is an excellent exploration into the flourishing medieval trade networks across the East, the function of the Silk Road in bringing culture and commodities across the known world, and how Europe’s intervention and eventual ascendancy was marked by profound violence, the destruction of these networks, and the outright pillage of non-white people and riches. Which we know, but... read it. Europe and its heir (America) started the crusades, colonialism, imperialism, two world wars, and other conflicts that always contained a virulent aspect of spreading Ideology and getting people to Believe The Right Thing. These cumulative conflicts have devastated the planet repeatedly and we are still feeling their effects right up to this minute. They were all connected to Establishing Supreme Ideology and Supreme Whiteness (and Supreme Christianity). I’m detecting a pattern. The Rachel Maddow book explores how from the 1980s onward, America went absolutely hog-wild with the military/military ideology as a central way to solve its problems, which was tied to the Cold War, capitalism, and extreme individualism. All of which are tied to our current mess today.

Obviously, the most extreme examples of putting ideology above people result in outright holocausts, which is why you should read the Michael Sells book about Bosnia. Everyone knows about the WWII Holocaust of the Jews (and we have already seen how that is busily being denied along with the return of anti-Semitism, which never goes away), but the Bosnian holocaust was happening while most of us were alive. The West deliberately ignored it, because it was framed as the “last crusade” against Muslims in Europe and they needed to be removed in order to create a Pure Christian Europe; hence the Bosniaks were apparently an acceptable sacrifice in achieving this. I have some words on my tongue, I think they start with “massive human suffering,” and how that is constantly what results when an existing society, no matter how flawed, is attacked by ideological zealots who see huge amounts of death as an acceptable price to pay for their brave new world, as long as it’s not theirs (and sometimes even when it is). In fact, the accelerationist theory of social change is so profoundly racial and genocidal (and is indeed being used in exactly that way by the neo-Nazis and white paramilitary elements today) that it’s even more shocking to see supposedly progressive and moral people advocating so enthusiastically for it. It is a white supremacist Nazi wet dream of an ideology in which all the “flawed” people just vanish (spoiler alert, they don’t vanish, they are brutally murdered or allowed to die from deliberate and arrogant negligence) and the Aryans cavort in paradise. Just replacing that with some socialist jargon buzzwords doesn’t change the underlying framework.

And this is STILL NOT GETTING to America’s own history, and you know, the fact that this continent was occupied when white settlers arrived, declared it “terra nulla” or “empty land,” and set about slaughtering the existing advanced civilizations and their people in the name of! You guessed it! SUPERIOR IDEOLOGY! Funnily enough, destroying the Native Americans “for their own good” didn’t result in utopia for them. It resulted in.... yeah, I think we get it by now, but just in case, one more time: MASSIVE HUMAN SUFFERING.

Tl;dr: The accelerationist theory of social change (just destroy everything and it will magically rebuild according to our preferred ideology) is a racist and genocidal fantasy of orgiastic destruction that has caused untold damage throughout history. White Americans whether on the right or left are fond of it, because they have never lived in a country where this has been repeatedly and horribly done to them (often by America itself) and which has cost uncountable Black, brown, Muslim, Jewish, Latin American, Native American, etc lives. The deliberate or deliberately negligent destruction of society does not lead to regeneration. It leads to long-term and unfixable damage, and the people who profit the most from deliberate disaster are the capitalist corporate overlords that the left professes to hate. This country is a racist garbage fire and nobody denies that it needs to change or die, but buying into this theory about how you should just stand back and let it burn/obstruct efforts to work within the system and mitigate the damage IS BULLSHIT and RESULTS IN MASSIVE HUMAN SUFFERING AND DEATH. Which, so far as I know, wasn’t supposed to be a progressive value, but hey, I could be mistaken.

Learn some history. Wear a mask.

Don’t be a whiny pissbaby that makes the rest of us die.

Vote Joe Biden and Kamala Harris 2020.

#history #american history #history of racism #politics for ts #long post #anonymous #ask

[doomonfilm]

Memories : Top 15 Films of 2020

If 2020 taught movie fans anything, it was that we shouldn’t take things for granted.  On the dollars and cents side of things, movie theaters were already facing an uphill battle to stay sustainable, but the “shelter-in-place” practice of March and beyond decimated box office returns, with many theaters yet to reopen (if they will open at all).  In terms of famous names and faces, the list of those who passed away featured numerous icons : Kobe Bryant, Kirk Douglas, Max von Sydow, Honor Blackman, Carl Reiner, Ennio Morricone, John Saxon, Wilford Brimley, Chadwick Boseman, Sean Connery, Tiny Lister Jr., Adolfo ‘Shabba Doo’ Quinones and many more transitioned to the great beyond.  Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, Shudder and a number of other streaming services saw themselves step into the forefront of the entertainment provider realm, with Warner Brothers and a handful of other studios making announcements that they will be following suit for at least 2021, if not for good.

With all of this uncertainty and chaos, however, the year 2020 was a surprisingly strong one, in my opinion, when it came to cinematic output... so much so, in fact, that aside from a number of Honorable Mentions, my list of top films was expanded to 15 in order to accommodate all of my choices.  For anyone who has checked out my lists from previous years, you will know that I did not see every film released this year, but I did make my best effort to cover as wide a range of films as possible.  Enjoy the list, and be sure to support film in whatever medium you are able to moving forward so that it can thrive.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

The 40-Year-Old Version (dir. Radha Blank) A nice little personal film that spoke to my hip-hop sensibility, as well as that ever-present awareness of the inevitability of age, and how it can skew our perspective in regards to our achievements.

Ava (dir. Tate Taylor) This isn’t the action film that’s going to reinvent the wheel, but if you look at action films like wheels, this is a quality wheel.  Outside of Common, I couldn’t really find much to shoot down... this will definitely be one I consider the next time I have company and we’re looking for something fun to check out.

Bill & Ted Face The Music (dir. Dean Parisot) I honestly would have been satisfied with just two films in this franchise, but surprisingly, a third entry was created that didn’t ruin my overall enjoyment of the previous two films.  Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter jumped in without missing a beat, a healthy dose of familiar faces popped back up, and the new cast additions weren’t too jarring... it’s nice to know that a pair of my favorite childhood films are officially now part of a trilogy.

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (dir. Jason Woliner) This was possibly the most surprising release of 2020... outside of a couple of news blips that Sacha Baron Cohen made during production, not a lot about this film was leaked prior to its release.  For such a dated character and a seemingly outdated style of humor, Borat once again exposed the simplest parts of society in an incredibly insightful (albeit cringey as all get-out) manner.

Guns Akimbo (dir. Jason Lei Howden) One of the most fun films of 2020.  Somewhere, the creative minds behind Nerve are wishing that they’d made this film instead. 

Henrietta and Her Dismal Display of Affection (dir. Jeffrey Garcia) Jeffrey Garcia is the homie, and I’ve had the pleasure of being in a number of his short films, so when he announced his intentions to write and shoot a feature film in 2020, I was completely on-board.  Miraculously, he was able to film the movie while the world was being ravaged by COVID-19, and though I cannot publicly announce details yet, this film has definitely already met (and likely succeeded) his expectations.

The Midnight Sky (dir. George Clooney) With each film that George Clooney directs, I realize more and more than he is an old soul trapped in a body idolized by the new school of film.  That being said, it’s nice to know that there are directors out there willing to embrace patient, silent and contemplative moments while simultaneously withholding from force-feeding viewers exposition.  

Tenet (dir. Christopher Nolan) This was possibly the most anticipated release of the year, considering it was the king of the IMAX release crowd in its pre-release promotion.  After a small delay due to COVID-19, it was one of the first films released in hopes of testing the movie-going waters during what was sure to be a diminished period of time, which probably hurt its numbers.  Too many, the film was confusing, and the nit-picking was fierce from the criticism contingency, but in all honesty, this was pretty impressive Nolan fare... certainly a good second movie in a Nolan double feature.

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (dir. Aaron Sorkin) I cannot tell a lie... I was hugely impressed with how Sorkin managed to reel his personality and voice back in order to let this well-known, controversial moment in time present itself.  Sorkin has a tendency to be the star of his films, be it when he is in the writer or director role, but for this film, he managed to focus the best parts of his skillset into a highly respectful, educational and inspiring tale that fit the tumultuous summer we endured.

VHYes (dir. Jack Henry Robbins) I remember seeing this trailer as 2019 was coming to a close, and it was a film high on my list of desired viewing.  Then 2020 reared its ugly, stupid head and many releases disappeared into obscurity or found themselves delayed.  Luckily, this one slipped through the cracks and found a home in the streaming world, which in all honesty, suited its presentation very well.  One of the most delightfully weird films of the year, hands down. 

Vivarium (dir. Lorcan Finnegan) Of all the films cut from my Top 15 list, this was the toughest cut to make.  I went into the film totally blind (with Jesse Eisenberg and my respect for his acting chops being the sole selling point), but this film really hit a lot of my buttons... it’s trippy as can be, there is a character that is freakishly unique and wholly unnerving, and the production design leaves a lasting impression.  Don’t let the Honorable Mention designation fool you... this one is a winner.  

Wonder Woman 1984 (dir. Patty Jenkins) The Christmas gift that the masses collectively decided that they did not want.  Much like Ava, there is one glaring aspect of this film that I could have done without, but otherwise, I found this to be an enjoyable film.  Gal Gadot was made for this role, while Kristen Wiig and Pedro Pascal stepped up to the plate and impressed.  If you’re looking to be blown away, the Wonder Woman franchise isn’t the smartest place to go, but if you’re looking for entertainment, there’s plenty of it here.   

THE TOP 15 FILMS OF 2020

15. Mignonnes (dir. Maïmouna Doucouré) This one started off the year with plenty of controversy.  What was an award-winning tale about womanhood and the difficulties surrounding coming of age in an ever-changing and evolving world quickly devolved into a campaign to ban the film (and Netflix).  Many people overlooked the film as a cautionary tale about what access to the Internet and the sexually-charged nature in which women are portrayed can do to developing girls, instead choosing to accuse the film of being fodder for malicious types seeking to exploit the sexualizing of young women.  More than anything, in my opinion, Mignonnes served as an example of our outrage-fueled culture and the way it tends to skew our perspective and/or our ability to take art at face value.

14. His House (dir. Remi Weekes) As I’ve mentioned many times over the past week or so on this blog, horror films were one of the few genres that found a benefit from the film industry’s transition to streaming services for primary access to film.  While a number of traditional horror films received notice, His House took the opportunity to not only make a pure horror film, but one that spoke on racism and the conditions that asylum-seekers and refugees face.  The film is well-acted, the production value is high quality, and it’s paced beautifully... while not the highest film on this list, it is certainly one I will encourage others to see as time goes by.

13. All Day and a Night (dir. Joe Robert Cole) When human nature reared its ugly head during COVID-19 in the form of numerous race-related killings, multitudes of businesses quickly adopted the Black Lives Matter mantra, with film distributors and streaming services taking advantage of the moment to produce and release content relevant to cultural and social awareness.  Netflix was no different, and of the many films they released in the wake of the harrowing events, All Day and a Night is the one that feels the most sincere and honest in its approach and presentation.  The streets of Oakland are presented with a vast array of characters, each with complex backgrounds and states of mind, all of which helps the viewer understand the pressure many minorities live with and process on a daily basis.

12. She Dies Tomorrow (dir. Amy Seimetz) Execution is king, even when applied to the simplest of premises, and She Dies Tomorrow is a shining example of this.  In a very John Cassavetes move, director Amy Seimetz took her payment from her appearance in Pet Sematary and used it to fund a personal project that more than likely would have been ignored by studio heads.  The result is a hypnotic, entrancing and haunting film where stillness and anticipation play antagonist, while we as viewers feel the need to transpose ourselves into the protagonists we are presented due to their stilted but emotional performances.  Hopefully this one finds some notoriety in the cult classic realm as the years pass.

11. The Vast of Night (dir. Andrew Patterson) For a debut film, The Vast of Night handles itself with a surprising amount of confidence in its vision.  The immersion is nearly instant as we are first placed in the premise of a TV show, and then a 1950′s town, but once the actors and camera get going, it’s up to us as viewers to strap in for the ride.  The story is deeply intriguing, the performances are strong enough to carry a very dialogue heavy movie, and the final act is chilling in its reveals.  I will be surprised if this one finds its way to a Best Original Screenplay nomination due to it being a debut film from a relatively unknown writer/director, but if it manages to get the nomination it will certainly be a well-deserved one.

10. Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (dir. Cathy Yan) The movie that broke the list.  If someone would have told me in 2019 that a film directly connected to Suicide Squad would be anywhere on a Top Films list I curated, I would have laughed dead in their face, and yet, here we are.  It’s like every good idea that was poorly executed in Suicide Squad found new life in Birds of Prey, which makes the film not only an entertaining watch, but a satisfying one.  Not only is Margot Robbie perfect in this film (as well as given a break on the exploitative costuming), but Mary Elizabeth Winstead arguably takes a stab at stealing the show with her performance.  Don’t let the DCEU association fool you... Birds of Prey is the real deal.    

9. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (dir. Eliza Hittman) Probably the most contemplative film on the entire list, and impressive in its nature for sure.  To my knowledge, the cast is made up of mostly unknowns (unless I’m sleeping on actors and actresses, which has been known to happen), and as a result, a tough slice of life to swallow is presented in an extremely grounded nature.  Sidney Flanigan gives a powerful performance, hopefully the first of many.

8. Possessor [Uncut] (dir. Brandon Cronenberg) Easily the most “what the f-ck” film on this list, and certainly one worthy of the Cronenberg name.  Andrea Riseborough has been on my radar since Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) and Mandy, and seeing her in a lead role confirms her talent.  I’m a sucker for science-fiction films that don’t rely on digital effects and elaborate set pieces, and Possessor rings both of those bells with a vengeance.  I watched the uncut version, which has a couple of extremely brutal sequences that will unnerve even the most hardened viewer, but these sequences only serve to drive home the lost nature of Tasya, our protagonist.  This one isn’t for everyone, but for those who can stomach a bit off graphicness and process a narrative that doesn’t spoon-feed you answers, this one is a must see.

7. Da 5 Bloods (dir. Spike Lee) Spike Lee has always been a huge influence on me as both an aspiring filmmaker and a fan of the medium, but I’d be lying if I told you that his last decade was a memorable one.  Outside of BlacKkKlansman, Lee has found himself falling short of his vision more often than not, but Da 5 Bloods is a tonal and stylistic bullseye.  Fans of Lee will dig it, fans of Vietnam films will dig it, and anyone who had an inkling of respect or admiration for Chadwick Boseman will be moved.  If Lee continues to make films as good as this one, he may find an entirely new generation of fans as a result.

6. Soul (dir. Pete Docter) As mentioned at the top of this list, people love to try and sink films due to their own personal agendas, and Soul found itself in the crosshairs prior to its late 2020 release.  Many people were upset that a minority character would not only spend most of the movie as a blue blob, but would also seemingly serve as a tool for another character’s “salvation”.  That being said, once Soul dropped, anybody with common sense dropped those stances and realized that Pixar had not only made a stunningly beautiful film, but one that likely spoke to adults more than children.  Plain and simple, Soul is a bonafide instant classic.

5. Kajillionaire (dir. Miranda July) If Evan Rachel Wood doesn’t win an Oscar for her performance in Kajillionaire (or at least garner a nomination), Hollywood needs to collectively have their head checked.  Every year worth its salt has a weird, quirky but loveable film, and Miranda July more than succeeded in making one for 2020.  The humor, both physical and dialogue-based, is on point, and the bittersweet nature of the story is gut-wrenching as the film progresses.  This one was probably the biggest surprise for 2020 in terms of prior awareness versus post-watch admiration.

4. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (dir. George C. Wolfe) The final film of Chadwick Boseman’s short but prolific career is one that allowed him to exist in the wake of his reality, making his performance powerful and (seemingly) cathartic.  He is surrounded by supreme talent on all sides, as there are no weak performances in this film, and despite it essentially being a play shot for film, it feels far from limited, contained or constrained.  Not only does it speak on larger issues of the commodification of Black pain and talent, but it may serve as a vehicle for a posthumous Oscar for Boseman.

3. The Devil All The Time (dir. Antonio Campos) This was the first Netflix original that made me really and truly respect them as a film distributor.  The list of talent for The Devil All The Time is truly impressive, and Tom Holland knocked his lead role out of the park.  Robert Pattinson is great as always, and the way that the story winds back into itself keeps you locked in and connected until the credits roll.  For something that came out so many months ago, it’s respectable that it was able to hold such a high position on a list that was as fluid as any I’ve ever put together.

2. Mank (dir. David Fincher) For a time, this was the hands down film of the year on my list.  Gary Oldman has basically become a “can do no wrong” actor, and his performance was amplified by David Fincher’s ability to emulate the look, sound and feel of a bygone Hollywood era.  On top of this, the built in intrigue that comes with handling anything remotely connected to Orson Welles is present, making Mank almost feel like a companion piece to the prolific film that is Citizen Kane.  If The Devil All The Time was a victory for Netflix, then Mank was the win that put them into a true spot as contenders in the future of film distribution. 

1. I'm Thinking of Ending Things (dir. Charlie Kaufman) Where does one even begin with Charlie Kaufman?  Time and again, he proves to be one of the most truly unique voices to gain fame.  For I’m Thinking of Ending Things, Kaufman seemingly returns to his foundation of odd, offbeat love stories, only to take us on a journey of truly mind-bending and psyche-warping proportions.  Of all the movies on this list, this is the one that almost demands repeat viewings, as one must have an idea of the entire journey before they can understand the individual aspects laid out.  If dialogue isn’t your thing, then this one may not hold you, but that would be a shame, as this beautiful mystery stands head and shoulders above the rest of 2020′s stellar output.

#ChiefDoomsday #DOOMonFILM #Mignonnes #MaimounaDoucoure #HisHouse #RemiWeekes #AllDayAndANight #JoeRobertCole #SheDIesTomorrow #AmySeimetz #TheVastOfNight #AndrewPatterson #BirdsOfPreyAndTheFantabulousEmancipationOfOneHarleyQuinn #CathyYan #NeverRarelySometimesAlways #ElizaHittman #Possessor #BrandonCronenberg #Da5Bloods #SpikeLee #Soul #PeteDocter #Kajillionaire #MirandaJuly #MaRaineysBlackBottom #GerorgeCWolfe #TheDevilAllTheTime #AntonioCampos #Mank #DavidFincher

[giftofshewbread]

Israel & Election 2020

: By Terry James 

Published on: November 5, 2020

Election results still aren’t settled as I write this. Presidential Election 2020 is, in my many decades of experience, unlike any other. And this is in no way hyperbole.

I know I don’t have to convince you of the truth of that statement. Those of you who read these columns have lived through everything from Donald Trump’s 2016 election until this present hour. Little in the four intervening years has not been strange and, to use KJV terminology, extremely “vexing.”

Strangest of all regarding this election are the dynamics within the matters involved. Donald J. Trump has had everything imaginable thrown at his presidency—and some things so profoundly evil as to defy anything approaching political normalcy. None of it has touched him.

We’ve expressed many times in these articles how Trump seems impervious to and even invulnerable against anything his political enemies and even the minions of Satan can manage against him.

The election of 2016 presented, according to all political hacks—and all polls—insurmountable odds against Trump winning. This was the case up until 9 o’clock on that election night. But when the electioneering dust settled, the political pundits all had to sadly report that the woman the Democrats had chosen to coronate as president had gone down to electoral landslide defeat.

The rage then exploded across the nation and the world. The globalist-elites’ grand plans for America—thus for the world—had been stopped cold in their tracks. Trump had one thing in mind. Well, two things: 1) To drain the swamp that was Washington, DC, and 2) To “Make America Great Again!” Neither could then nor now be tolerated by the powers and principalities of Ephesians 6:12.

Those powers and principalities, both human and demonic, had had their power and control diminished. It could not stand, and their rage became, as often described, “unhinged.”

We who viewed all this through the prism of Bible prophecy understood that this fury that seemed to make Trump’s human enemies do things that bordered on totally irrational was the result of their throwing off all godly restraints. The opposition party, in fact, voted audibly to kick God out of their party platform. Romans 1:28 thus observably set in, and the rage went wild.

There was the Russian collusion hoax brought against Trump twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for years. The political witch hunt went on until the $40 million Mueller investigation had to admit, finally, that Trump wasn’t guilty of even the slightest infraction.

The Democrat side of the House of Representatives impeached him for something that a White House recording plainly showed was a non-impeachable matter, with the president’s legitimate call to a Ukrainian official. Still, the phony trial went on for months. Taken to its full course, the inevitable not-guilty verdict made the unhinged party on the left look for all to see to be the evil minions they are.

These were the major actions used to assault Mr. Trump. If we dig in a bit, we can present hundreds of less dramatic attacks from the Democrats and their henchmen and henchwomen in the mainstream press. The assaults, as you will remember, were unrelenting.

The question, then, to consider—and I believe it to be one of a profound nature as we move farther into this fleeting age: Why, after all of this, in which nothing could remove this president from the Oval Office, no matter what was attempted, does it now appear that he will be removed by the mere electoral process? This, despite the blatant evidence that his opponent is obviously mentally challenged as proven every time he speaks for any length of time in public. Why are voters—at least half of them—so deluded as to elect the radicals who want to remake America into something akin to the old Soviet Union?

More profound than this is the question: Why has the Lord of Heaven suddenly seemed to take his hand off, which had so obviously been on this man He miraculously put in the White House?

It is especially a profound question, because God’s greatest end-times indicator, His chosen people, Israel, is at the very heart of things accomplished by one Donald J. Trump.

He promised to move the US Embassy from Tel Aviv after declaring Jerusalem as Israel’s capital from America’s perspective. This is something other presidents had promised but never did. Trump did keep the promise to recognize Jerusalem as Israel’s capital.

He has kept practically every promise he has made—to Israel—to the American people. There is no doubt that this is God’s man for this hour at the close of the Age of Grace (Church Age).

Why has God decided, as it appears He has as of this writing, to remove him from earth’s most powerful office? Why, if it does happen, would the Lord of Heaven replace him with a person who, being mentally ill, seems to represent, through his incapacity, the entire reprobate (upside-down) spiritual and mental capacity of his political party?

Israel must be considered in all this. I haven’t the answers—just the questions.

It will be our wonderful God who will provide those answers when He chooses.

Terry James

( In my humble opinion, the author of this article above, has shared what I’ve been wondering also, but he has done a much better job of conveying it to us; that being said, America has to lose Super Power Status, it has to fall as it has to make room for Israel.. America is Israel’s True Friend & Ally, but seemingly America is not in play during the latter days and Israel must be abandoned and let to it’s own, sadly Israel is to be alone. God has a plan and he’s going to use Israel in his own way, to his greatness!  God help us all, great evil is rising, America has to get out of the way, this is how I see it, again, just my humble opinion, if we are in the timeline I think we’re in, we don’t have much time left, till the Tribulation Period begins, also meaning, the Rapture is this much closer, any time now, we don’t have years left...  Leho Lechem )

[nelllraiser]

nell yell | alain & nell

HellaHairFlipToday at 2:33 PM

our chatzy is basically just nell yelling at alain contin.

ameliemellowToday at 2:34 PM

And Alain being either 😏 or 🙄

Blocked. He’d blocked her! Like some thirteen year old girl who got into a fight about whether Britney or Christina wore it better. Well- she wouldn’t go for that. She’d taken care of things with Remmy and Blanche, doing what she could to protect them for now in a hastily concocted plan. Now it was time to deal with Alain once more. She hadn’t bothered with more regular means of finding out where he lived, not having the patience for anything less than a quick and easy tracking spell that led her straight to his front door. In a moment, she was banging heavily on it, not waiting for him to open it before she called out, “I wasn’t done yelling at you! And I didn’t say anything about nazis! You got there on your own.”

What the fuck was that about? Alain had been busy working in the old pigpen all morning, and his argument with Penelope was no longer worrying him, buried somewhere far in his head. What was the point of arguing with a wall anyway? She just yelled at him for the sake of it, and certainly was not ready to hear facts. And yet, when he heard the yelling at his front door, he knew immediately who was bothering him, despite having never met his so called fan in the flesh. Grabbing a piece of paper towel from a large roll, he started cleaning off the grease of his hand and walked out of his garage, arms crossed over his chest and a disapproving frown already on his face. Who the fuck did she think she was, showing up like this on his property? Then what could he expect from someone who defended a monster and yet didn’t feel bad about putting other ones in cages. The hypocrisy was blinding. “Bonjour, Nell,” Alain spoke calmly, a smile spreading across his face, then with all the nonchalance he could gather, leaned against the doorway. “You never know when to give up, do you?”

To be honest, Nell hadn’t even gotten to the realization that she had yet to meet Alain in person. She’d seen pictures of him from people around the Ring to accompany the stories of him, but of course most of those had been from years ago, taken during his time there. Now, as he opened the door, she blinked in surprise for a couple of moments— her rage temporarily and unintentionally put to the side for a moment. If this had been even one day ago, she probably would have been making an utter fool of herself on his front doorstep, not knowing what to do with herself when it came to meeting someone she’d idolized. Then she had to remind herself, No! I’m angry at this asshole. In the next moment, her scowl was back in place, arms crossing stubbornly over her own chest. “Don’t Bonjour, me,” she said indignantly, annoyed that he was acting as if this was no big deal. “I don’t give up.” Her words were succinct, though he was most likely right about not knowing when to let in. “So I’m here to babysit you. Congratulations.”

Alain rubbed his hand against his jawline, scratching through his beard idly as he listened to her speaking. “Fine, I take that bonjour back,” it was best not to get angry at her, even if he was already upset that should would dare showing up on his doorstep. This was his happy place, and he wasn’t too fond with having drama unfold here. He looked at her with the same look she was giving him. His arms still crossed over his chest, he didn’t move from where he stood. “Babysit me? Aren’t you busy babysitting Remmy and Blanche? Don’t you have better things to do? Because I do.”  His life could not only revolve around hunting or he’ll end up mad, he had made sure that it would never be the case years ago, when he left the Ring. Still, there were times where he felt as if he was standing on a thin line between sanity and madness. “Why are you here?”

Being angry at Alain on the internet, and maintaining that anger in person were two very different things. When he wasn’t here and in the flesh, and just black and white words on a screen, she could distance herself from the burning questions she’d always wanted to ask him. But with his face constantly reminding her who he was, it was more difficult to stay focused. And how did he look so young, anyway? In truth, it didn’t seem his appearance hasn’t shifted much from the pictures she’d been shown. “I already babysat them.” Sorry Blanche. She sent her friend a mental apology at the term of ‘babysat’. “Besides, the person I need to protect them from is right here. Might as well just get to the source of the problem.” Was it not obvious why she was here? “I just told you! To keep you from hurting Remmy or Blanche.”

"So I'm the source of the problem now ?" Alain's eyebrows raised. Okay, this was not his perspective on this situation. He thought of himself as the solution, not the problem. The problem was a zombie who had managed to manipulate or influence two young girls into liking them so much that they vowed to protect them, despite the risks. Those risks were too familiar for him to look past them. Death, or transforming into one of these things. This was always how he'd seen it end. "Are you expecting me to believe that you don't find zombies to be a threat to humans ? This is an accident waiting to happen." When something was dangerous, you either fixed it, put a barrier or destroyed it. Fixing Remmy was probably impossible, so the two other options were the only that were available. He too cared about Blanche and if they could come to an agreement, he would accept it, even if he would not like it. Frustration was a feeling he knew too well, but it seemed the young girls had never met it. "Come in, I'll make you some coffee or whatever."

“You were already the source of the problem!” Nell explained, exasperation in her voice. “If you weren’t so intent on killing them, there’d be no problem in the first place.” No doubt he’d be ready to disagree that killing them would be the opposite of a problem, but Nell wouldn’t be swayed. More than anything though, she was frustrated that Alain seemed to be determined to be calm, cool, and collected. What had happened to the man who’d been snippy with her online? “Of course accidents happen. I’m not stupid. But you avoid accidents by education and practice and planning. And then you don’t have to kill. You haven’t even tried! You just went straight to kill!” Though, that wasn’t entirely surprising. After all, he was a Hunter. “What?” she questioned, surprise coloring her tone as she was caught off-guard. “Do I look like I want coffee?” She wanted to be upset, not have some nice little tea time with Alain. And yet...there was still that annoying little part of her that was very much curious about what the inside of his house looked like. 

“If they did not exist, there would be no problem,” he drily replied, looking over his shoulder as he heard the sound of his dogs approaching to have a look at the stranger. Alain scratched on his dog’s head, glancing down to give him a look. “What kind of life is that anyway ? An eternity of eating brains, and being scared that you’ll snap and hurt your friends? I’m doing them a favor,” he raised the tone of his voice this time. Apparently being calm was not enough for getting his point through. Was anything going to be enough? Nell was stubborn and not open for negotiation or compromises. So be it. As far as the undead were concerned, even if vampires were the most evil of the two, he still considered that you couldn’t afford to let the disease carried by zombies spread. “You look like someone delusional, I don’t know if these people have coffee, but I do,” the hunter stepped back and followed by his dogs, walked to the kitchen. 

“I mean technically that’s right, but only because you’re a prejudiced jerk!” Besides, a world without Remmy would be a much sadder one. They were such a pure light in an otherwise mostly dark world. She opened her mouth to let another tirade of words out, “I-” but then, she went miraculously silent. “Is- that your dog?” Nothing like a pup to get Nell nice and distracted. Automatically, the desperate need to pet it gripped her, but would that make Alain think she was being friendly towards him? She wanted Alain to know she was mad at him. But the dog....apparently she was unable to focus on the argument he’d supplied her with in return because of it. Still, it didn’t stop her from firing back, “I’m not delusional.” Then she was begrudgingly following him inside, realizing she’d have to if she wanted to keep lecturing him. 

“Or because they are homicidal cannibals who cannot control themselves when they see blood, or a corpse. Who sees a corpse and goes : oh yeah, I’d eat that shit,” he paused, for emphasis, “MONSTERS, that’s who.” His tone was rather calm all things considered, but there were intonations that betrayed the fact that this conversation made his blood boil. “What? Yes.” He would have usually been more sarcastic and claimed that he stole it from the neighbors, but that was not really in his mood to do that now. “I have two of those goof balls,” the other one was now laying right in his way. “Sounds exactly like something a delusional person would say,” he replied with a smile that she could not see, walking after him. “So, coffee or not?” He asked again. 

“That’s not true! You’re blowing it out of proportion! Even if some are like that there’s steps you can take to make it safer! But you won’t even try!” It seemed that her anger had come back full force, set off by his phrasing and the use of the word monsters. Gone was the distracting voice in her head that still wanted to fawn over just how cool Alain was during his Ring days in those moments, rage making her see red. “You act like they want to destroy and shit, but you’re fucking wrong! There’s no set rules for them! I’d expect you to know that if you didn’t just kill on sight! But you’ve probably never given one a single chance in your entire life!” Maybe some reveled in the killing, but his words were also triggering memories of her times travelling and dispatching monsters or supernatural of all sorts. Certainly, there were those who thrived in being the bloody things they were, but there were some who just wanted peace. She couldn’t stop thinking about one of those very people who had just so badly wanted to be normal again. It’d been heartbreaking to watch. Her phone buzzed just then, and she glanced at it to see yet another message from Bea insisting she wouldn’t be leaving the house in spite of a demon being on its way after Nell had sent Vashti their address. Just another fucking thing to add to Nell’s plate in this moment, and her anxiety grew, her shoulders going even tenser. Even the dogs couldn’t calm her in this moment. Her passion white-hot to the touch. “Fuck you, Alain,” she hissed in an icier tone, frustration getting the best of her. “I’d rather eat nails than have coffee with you.

“I’ve seen what these things can do. If you had seen it, you would be agreeing with me right now,” Alain had witnessed how short-tempered she was online, and he was not too shocked to hear her raise her voice after what he had just said. He gave her a look, his face stern. He listened to what she had to say, but this time, did not reply. What was the point? She did not come here to convince him or be convinced, it seemed, but rather just to yell at him. The man sighed heavily and turned his back on her to get his French press and his coffee out of the cupboard. He turned on the kettle and sat on the counter, glancing at her as she took her phone out. Watching her expression change, he frowned . Whatever it was that she was reading, it made her very upset. More than she already was. Was it bad that he wanted to make it even worse? “I quite like it when you talk dirty to me,” a grimace appeared on his face as if to say my bad, before he added : “I was just hoping we could have a nice little drink together,” his elbow resting on his knee, and his head on his palm he looked at her with mild amusement. 

“You don’t know what I have or haven’t seen! You have absolutely no idea who I even am, barely! We met barely like a week ago! Before that you didn’t even know I existed! So don’t tell act like you know what I have and haven’t seen, and how I’d react upon seeing those things! You think I haven’t seen shit? You don’t know anything so stop acting like such a self-righteous prick.” It was true that she’d only really gotten into the monster scene some five or six years ago, but in those years she’d travelled far, and seen perhaps a bit too much at times. But for a split moment her emotions were stopped dead in their tracks but his unexpected words. At least they jolted her out of her one track mind for a moment, and she took a couple of steps towards him to place her hands on either side of him on the counter. “If you liked that you’ll love it when I tell you that if you hurt a single hair on Remmy’s head, when Regan gets a hold of you to take you apart and figure out what happened, there won’t be pieces of you big enough to see under a microscope.” But then her phone buzzed again, and she whipped her gaze back to it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, she didn’t have time to sit here and play with Alain. Absolute worry was quick to color her features once more, her concern for her sister easily trumping her anger at Alain. 

"I don't know, maybe it's the fact that I was already witnessing crazy shit before you were even born," he sulked exaggeratedly. “Oh no, she called me a prick,” he deadpanned, glancing down at his dog as if he was a camera on The Office. Grabbing the coffee maker, he pushed on the piston and poured himself a mug of coffee. He took a sip from it, although when he saw her approaching, he was quick to get that thing out of her way. No second degree burns, please. “Threats.” How many times in his life was he threatened? He’d lost count. He had never liked those, where was the fun in telling people what you’d do to them if they disobeyed you. It entirely ruined the surprise. “That’s original,” judging from his tone, it was not. Once again she was disturbed by her phone and once again he saw her face change. “If you have better things to do, please go ahead. I wouldn’t want to hold you back,” his eyebrows raised. He was more than curious to know what was wrong, but figured that it was best not to ask.

Nell gave a hearty eyeroll at that. The classic ‘I’m older than you and therefore wiser’ argument. “”That’s such bullshit. It still doesn’t give you the right.” Alain seemed to think that she was here to simply yell at him, and though that was partially true, he didn’t seem to grasp that she was here for Remmy, not for him. “This isn’t about you. I’m not here to point out the obvious about you being an ass.” Her hands went up in exasperation when it came to his words on her threat. She didn’t threaten people to scare them, she did it to warn them, to let them know just how far she’d been pushed. But she was winding down in a way, too immersed in her worry for Bea to properly focus on what was happening with Alain. She was spreading herself too thin, and a part of her felt like it was going to just snap at any moment. But she couldn’t afford to. She couldn’t drop the ball and let someone get hurt. “There’s something I need to take care of,” she said shortly, her voice now holding that element of fear in it that had nothing to do with Alain, too worried about what Vashti might be working up. She began to head for the door, but turned towards the Hunter once more, her barbs seemingly gone as she spoke again in a voice that seemed to be more pleading than the fire she’d been exhibiting before. “Just...please. They’re not just a zombie. Just take a split second to think about everything it is that you’re destroying, the person you’re destroying. You’re not even giving them a chance. There’s ways if you’d just let me help them.”

Watching her leave the kitchen, Alain took the time to pick up his coffee before he went after her. Whatever was going on bad to be quite serious. He would have offered to help had it been any other context but right now, all he wanted was for her to leave so he could enjoy his coffee and enjoy the nice weather. Maybe he could garden today. He had bought a few bulbs that he would have to plant. "Why is it only now that you are willing to have an actual conversation with me ? As you are leaving?" Alain was curious as what ways she was talking about, and would have rather spoken about that than yell and be yelled at. Go figure why she didn't start with this instead. He may have been stubborn but he was mostly curious. Guess they could discuss this another time. "We should talk about this another time then. Now don't wait too much. You've got urgent things to do." Leaning against the doorway he waited for her to leave so he could close the door.

The phrasing of his words sparked Nell’s temper a bit once more, but it wasn’t enough to make her loud as it had before. It was true that she generally came into things hot and heavy, but she couldn’t help it. Even so, she’d been just as right when she was angry as she was in a calmer place. So she didn’t really give him an answer, instead only giving him a little glare, though it wasn't nearly as withering as her previous ones had been. What she didn’t expect was Alain to actually seem...receptive for a moment, though, and she gave him another considering glance, unsure what to make of this. “Another time, then.” And then she was out the door to go fight a demon.

#prejudice tw #?? #nazi mention tw #chatzy #nell yell #ch:alain

[confused--castiel]

Someone really had this whole big thing about how cizikas likely accidentally laid an illegal hit and should be the last person held accountable etc etc bc of their experience with rugby

And I was happy with their explanation

And then guess what they ended it with. Guess.

“And anyway your team has Brad Marchand!” (paraphrased)

Are you actually fucking kidding me. You just went on a whole thing about how bringing something up just because your team is losing is bad, which is true!!! It was awful and fucked up!!!!!!! And you talk about how no matter what your intent was, the way you phrase it can be kinda sus. And then you end. On that. You end by basically saying “well at least our player didn’t k*ll on purpose!”. After all the discussion of how intent doesn’t matter when you bring up something like this, THATS how you choose to end the post. Genuinely how fucking dare you.

I want to make it VERY CLEAR: bringing up this incident was extremely fucked up and the timing definitely made it seem “gotcha”, I am not on the OPs side AT ALL, it was awful of them. I also don’t think Cizikas is at all to blame. But why in the hell did you decide that ending this with ANOTHER “gotcha” was a good fucking idea. As though a player who sometimes lays dirty hits (that rarely ever injure bc he understands his own strength and how to use it) is anywhere NEAR comparable to someone DYING from injury. If you think adding a dig at brad marchand at the end of a post where you talk about a very sensitive situation involving a CHILDS DEATH is appropriate, please block me right now. You ask others to have empathy and humanity in a serious situation and then in the same paragraph decide to go after someone in an awful way just because you don’t like their hockey.

#talk about sinking to their level lol. #mentioning ‘the stuff tom wilson and ryan reaves do would never fly in rugby’ made sense #you didn’t go GOTCHA THEY SUCK HAHA!!!! #you just mentioned them in a relevant situation. #and at the end you decide to go after marchy. #so your post was just pretending to be educational and unbiased? ok lol #I’m literally ‘biased’ towards the team AGAINST the isles in this round #and I miraculously managed to approach this from a HUMAN perspective #unlike you apparently!!!!!!! #it’s so so so so SO fucking gross to effectively call how marchy plays worse than accidentally KILLING someone. FUCKING GROSS. #I really thought this topic was settled lol #hopefully this is the last thing I’ll have to say bc people will just block me instead of hg BUT MARCHAND IS A MURDERER or some shit #kinda personal #not tagging anyone #only triggers #death tw #tw child death #tw death #child death tw #death #child death #I think that’s good? #ask to tag

[skeletonscribbles]

Wishes

here’s chapter one of this Losers WDW employee AU! let me know what you think <3

Rating: M, eventually. G right now, except for cursing.

Pairings: Reddie, Stan/Bill/Mike, Benverly WC: 4,465

Summary: 

It's one thing to vacation at the Happiest Place on Earth with all your friends.

Working there with them is another thing entirely.

(or: the Disney World Employee/Cast Member AU written by a former Disney World Cast Member that some people asked for but most did not)

Other: Scroll down for explanation of starred phrases. There’s lots of Disney lingo in here.

Also, chapters will alternate perspectives like I Burn I Pine I Perish (Mike’s up next!)

Read on Ao3

Tag List: @roobarrtrashmouth @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @tozier-club @aizeninlefox @stanheartsbill

BILL DENBROUGH - GUEST RELATIONS, MAGIC KINGDOM THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8TH 7:48 A.M.

There was absolutely no fucking reason for the Magic Kingdom to ever open earlier than 9 a.m.. That was indisputable truth among MK workers; the tunnels were too nasty for any human to have to wander through between the hours of 1 a.m. and 8 a.m. (Third shift cast members were brave and foolish souls.)

Bill Denbrough really couldn’t be blamed, then, for rolling in with just a few minutes to spare on an early-open Monday (well, actually a Thursday, but his Monday. He’d applied to have a regular weekend, but didn’t get it because he hadn’t been working for the company for a million years, so his days off were Tuesday and Wednesday, and it was a huge bummer). As soon as he got off the West Clock bus*, he made a beeline for the mouth of the tunnels to clock in on the computer next to the Mouseketeeria (the cafeteria for cast members - “The Mouse” for short). He wasn’t the only one, either - everyone was walking fast, trying to make sure they were in on time lest they get a point on their records**. That was what MK got, Bill reasoned, for opening a whole hour before what was strictly necessary.

Once he was clocked in (with two minutes to spare, no less), Bill slowed down, taking a more leisurely pace as he made his way through the tunnels towards Town Hall. The rest of his Guest Relations cast members would be pissed with him, but he didn’t care. They’d left him out to dry with angry guests more times than he could count.

Almost immediately, he was just about bowled over by somebody plowing their way towards the Mouse. He glared over, hoping that it was a bitchy entertainment cast member he could tell off, but to his dismay and concern, it was his acquaintance Eddie, a Character Attendant who he spoke to quite often on tours. He seemed to be on the run from someone...and given that he worked pretty exclusively with Princesses, that was probably true.

“Eddie?” Bill asked, and Eddie stopped in his tracks. “Are you all right?”

Eddie turned around, shaken up by the fact that he’d been recognized (there were SO many cast members that worked at the Magic Kingdom), and blinked woozily back at Bill. “Oh. Yeah. Hi, Bill. You taking people my way today?”

“I dunno if I have a tour,” Bill said, “but I will if I do. Which way is your way?”

“Fantasyland,” Eddie replied, “Princess Fairytale Hall. Not Adventureland anymore, thank God.”

“What’s so bad about Adventureland?” Before he’d taken the Guest Relations gig, Bill had been an attractions cast member in Adventureland and Liberty Square. Granted, his allegiance was much more to the Liberty side, as he’d been a butler at the Haunted Mansion (and a damn great one, too, even if he did still have his stutter then), but Adventureland was still a big source of pride for him.

“Hecklers,” Eddie said cryptically, “and everyone in Adventureland always asks if I’m friends********** with Pan, because he used to meet there. I hate that. Anyways, it’ll be a pretty slow day at PFT, so if you’re doing tours, put any kids in Tiana’s line. It’ll be short, and she’s a sweetheart.”

“Roger roger,” Bill said, saluting him. “You’re a good man, Eddie….shit, I have no idea what your last name is. I’ve only ever read your name off of your nametag.”

“Kaspbrak,” Eddie offered, smiling thinly. “Not that you’ll remember.”

“Probably not,” Bill admitted. “I’ll see you later, though.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Eddie promised, disappearing through the doors of the Mouse.

Running into Eddie had made Bill even later than he was originally planning to be. His coworkers were going to be livid. Hopefully there wasn’t a tour waiting on him.

Sure enough, when he walked into Town Hall, his coordinator flew at him. “What is the matter with you?? You have a tour waiting!”

“Cool,” Bill rolled his eyes and smoothed out his vest. “What’s the situation?”

“A couple of C-list VIPs. Kids from a recent horror film, I think. Seven of them.”

“Girls?” Bill asked, quietly hoping for an affirmative answer.

“Just one,” his coordinator said, glancing over. “Six boys.”

“Fuck.” Bill sighed and slid on his sunglasses. “No Tiana this time, I guess. I’ll start ‘em with Richie instead.”

“I dunno if Richie still works mornings,” said the coordinator, frowning, “he likes that late night CP shift*** garbage. But if he’s here, he’ll probably tip the boat and drown ‘em, so...godspeed, I guess.”

Bill stepped out neatly from behind the customer service booth. He spotted his group right away. They were all about 13 years old, and extremely loud.

“Hey there, kiddos!” he called. “Ready to make some magic?”

The children cheered, and Bill swept them out and towards Adventureland.

----

Miraculously, they made it to the Jungle Cruise in about ten minutes. The group only got distracted by the swords in the Agrabah Bazaar once (and incredibly, it was the girl that was most excited about them), and were less interested in the spitting camels at the Aladdin ride than Bill thought they would be.

He approached the cast member at the head of the Jungle Fastpass line while the kids took a picture with the ride sign for Instagram. “I’ve got a group of fourteen - seven kids and seven moms - and we want to ride Richie’s bote****.”

The cast member rolled his eyes. “Of course, Richie’s bote. It’s a miracle you caught him - usually he doesn’t get scheduled until noon or later, but he’s here today, whining about having to spiel at 'the asscrack of dawn' or whatever. He's basically a bat: blind and nocturnal.”

“Grumpy Richie is good luck for us,” Bill said, smiling. “I was kind of hoping he’d leave the kids in the Cambodian ruins show scene.”

“He just might.” The cast member waved Bill along, and Bill called back to the boys. They snaked their way through the line until they got to the dock, where another cast member in khaki held them back.

“You want Richie, right?” she said, adjusting her wide-brimmed hat. “Good timing. He’ll be rolling in in a sec.”

“Who is Richie?” one of the boys asked, looking at Bill curiously.

Bill shook his head and smiled. The kid really had no idea.

“Aaaaaaaand we’re back,” called a loud voice, saving Bill from actually answering the boy’s question. Bill turned to see Richie steering a boat to the unload dock. His glasses were steamed up from the Florida humidity, and his hat was hanging around his neck by a cord because his hair was too unruly for the hat to stay on his head. In short, he was a SIGHT. The kids gawked at him as he pulled up to the pier and stopped the boat, yammering all the while:

“I hope you’ve had as much fun as I have over these past four weeks...which is to say, none at all, I hope you had no fun, you’ve been terrible. Parting is such sweet sorrow, yadda yadda yadda, get out of my bote. Watch your head. Just kidding, you can’t actually watch your own head. Watch somebody else’s head, I guess.”

Richie’s rambling was sweet music to Bill’s ears. The two of them had been friends since they’d done Ad-Lib orientation together some two years prior. They’d been separated to different attractions - Richie to Pirates of the Caribbean, initially, and Bill to Mansion - but they still managed to make time for each other every now and again, and Bill loved to take his tours down to the Jungle Cruise so he could spend time with his friend.

Bill was justified in bringing his tours down Richie’s way, though. Richie was by far the funniest Skipper in the Jungle. Everyone had been kind of surprised when he’d been sent to Pirates right off the bat - the boy was basically put on Earth to narrate shitty Disney journeys through plastic wilderness, so as soon as he could put in to cross-train*****, he had jumped to Jungle and not looked back.

“Hey Rich,” Bill called, “heard you were giving out free two-week vacations. Got room for fifteen more?”

Richie’s face lit up when he spotted Bill on the dock. “Big Bill, on MY bote? Dreams really do come true! Magic is real, folks, you heard it here first and not from anyone else on this wack vacation property--”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Bill said mildly, unable to hide his giant smile as he moved to hug his friend.

“I can’t believe ‘beep beep’ has lasted the test of time,” Richie grumbled. “I hate the Tomorrowland Speedway.” He turned to the kids. “Okay, single file, sit all the way around, both sides of the crates please or we’ll flip and the gators will eat you. Don’t climb over the crates, you’ll fall and I’ll laugh and then probably get fired. All aboard!”

The kids clambered eagerly on to Richie’s bote, chattering excitedly to themselves. Their mothers followed them with great hesitation and an obvious sense of dread. Bill got in last, and secured a seat next to Richie.

“We all here? Great! If not, oh well.” Richie got the ‘all clear’ from a fellow cast member, and put the boat into gear. “Welcome to the Richie Tozier express, I think you’ll find it river-ting. I know you’re all thrilled to spend the next two weeks with me as your tour guide, but please, hold your applause until we’re past this tribe of hand-eating cannibals….”

Richie’s bote was always an exciting experience, and Bill found himself laughing more than the kids at certain spots. He knew that he shouldn’t be encouraging some of the jokes - Richie was supposed to stick to a script, and he’d almost gotten fired a few times because he couldn’t rein in his giant mouth - but he couldn’t help it. Richie was a comedian, through and through.

After the tour was over, the kids all insisted on getting a picture with Richie, so he graciously climbed out of the boat with them and handed things over to another khaki-clad cast member. (It was his turn to rotate******, anyway.) They took photos on everyone’s iPhone, and then the kids scrambled away to edit and compare, so Bill had a few minutes alone with Richie.

“How goes it, Big Bill?” Richie asked, wiping sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. “Plaid looks good on you, as always.”

“Butler uniform looked better,” Bill said wistfully, tugging at his vest. “I miss Mansion, except for the heavy coat.”

“Anything’s better than khaki shorts,” Richie said sagely. “I’d kill to cross-train at Mansion. They won’t let me, though. They know I’d just sit around and scare kids all day.”

Bill shrugged. “I mean, I used to just let people fall down on the moving belt. I can’t imagine you’d be any worse.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty fucking awful, Billiam.” Richie shoved his hands in his shorts pockets. “Anyways. Um. I have a query.”

“Shoot,” said Bill, eyeing the kids. They were just about ready to go.

“Where’s Cute Character Attendant today?” Richie’s ears had gone scarlet, and not from the sun.

Bill shot him a withering look. “I don’t know every single person that works in MK, Rich.”

“You know this guy. I’ve seen you talking to him.” There was desperation in Richie’s eyes, which was new and disconcerting. “Small, pretty smile, shrill voice. I made an Aladdin joke about the loaf of bread in my pants and he told me that if he had a genie, he would wish me away.”

Bill squinted incredulously. “Eddie?!”

A huge, goofy smile slid across Richie’s face. “Eddie…”

Realization hit Bill like a freight train, and he let out a barking laugh. “You’re the heckler! Eddie said he had a heckler, and it's you!”

“Where is he?” Richie begged. “Bill, please.”

“Goodbye, Richie,” Bill sang, re-joining his group. Behind him, he could all but hear Richie attempting to keep from cursing.

It seemed that he was going to have to pay Eddie a visit after all.

----

As it turned out, the kids were pretty hyped about Tiana even with the fact that she was a girl. Bill was pretty impressed by that - they were a mature bunch of twelve year olds, which was rare and lovely.

Eddie was standing in front of the door to her station in Princess Fairytale Hall with his arms crossed. He looked almost elf-like in the Fantasyland attendant costume, and Bill couldn’t help but wonder at Richie’s taste. Eddie was a good person and quite attractive in his civilian clothes, but he looked ridiculous in his Attendant get-up, and Bill was pretty sure Richie had never seen Eddie in civvies. It made Bill wonder if Richie lusted after the Peter Pans in Entertainment, too.

“How many?” Eddie asked as they drew nearer.

Bill smiled meekly. “Don’t kill me.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped. “Over ten?”

“Fourteen,” Bill said apologetically. “Plus me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Richie?” Bill asked, low enough that the kids and moms in his group couldn’t hear him.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat, and his face immediately went pink. “You’re talking about Jungle Cruise guy, aren’t you.”

“Yeah. We’re old friends.” Bill looked at Eddie seriously. “Is he yanking your chain?”

“He’s so embarrassing,” Eddie complained. “Every time I’m with Aladdin and Jasmine, he stares at me from across Adventureland and shouts dumb jungle pick-up lines. And that’s not even the worst part.”

Bill blinked back at him. “What’s the worst part?”

“The worst part is that I’m into it,” Eddie hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what to do. It’s ridiculous. I have to go check on Tiana.” He disappeared into the next room, and then reappeared. “Yeah, she’s good. She’ll see you now.”

“Do you want me to talk to Richie?” Bill asked, gesturing the rest of his group forward.

“If you do, I’ll kill you,” Eddie threatened, pushing Bill through the door. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Bill repeated, wondering what he could do to help his two idiot friends.

----

The tour pretty quickly went back to occupying the majority of Bill’s thoughts, and so he was able to bring the kids and moms through Fantasyland pretty efficiently. The kids were obviously losing steam heading into Tomorrowland, so he talked to the moms and decided that Space Mountain and Buzz Lightyear would be their two final stops of the day. Monsters Inc would have to wait for another time.

Bill wasn’t a huge roller-coaster guy, and Space Mountain was particularly iffy for him, especially after he’d gotten the opportunity to ride it with the lights on, so he elected to stay outside with some of the moms while the kids and the braver mothers went through the line. One of the mothers was clearly relieved to have gotten him alone, and immediately started flirting with him, which he hated. It happened all the time, and while it was definitely worse when wives flirted with him in front of their husbands, it sucked pretty much across the board. He had no real defense mechanisms: he couldn’t be rude to the guest, or he’d get fired, and he couldn’t tell them he was gay, because then they’d probably tell his supervisor and he’d get fired for sharing too much information. It was a lose-lose situation.

Fortunately, someone else had noticed his plight. A blonde, bearded man in a dress shirt and, bewilderingly, a Disney name tag, came walking towards him from the direction of Astro Orbiter. “Hey, um.” The man read Bill’s nametag, and then straightened up. “Bill. Can we chat for a sec?”

“Sure,” Bill said, pointing to him and mouthing ‘supervisor’ to the moms as he was led away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Bill shoved his hands in his pockets. “Am I in trouble?”

“What?” The man seemed confused. “No, I was just trying to help you out. That mom was really laying it on thick.”

“Oh.” Bill couldn’t find the words to express his gratitude, so he settled for patting the man on the arms. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. I thought you were the manager for one of the attractions around here, that’s why I asked…”

The other man laughed. “Oh, no. Well, actually, kind of. In a sense, I manage these rides.”

Bill knitted his eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”

“My name’s Ben Hanscom,” the man introduced himself. “I’m an Imagineer.”

“Oh!” Bill beamed, delighted. “That’s the raddest job on property, I think. What brings you to MK? New developments in Tomorrowland?”

“Just observing,” Ben said, smiling. “I have a lot of Star Wars stuff on my plate, so I wanted to see how guests were reacting to the space-y theming we already have.”

“Smart,” Bill nodded. “What Star Wars stuff?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Ben dropped his voice to a low whisper. Bill almost believed him for a hot second, but Ben ruined the joke by bursting out laughing.

“Dude. That wasn’t even that funny.”

“I know,” Ben wheezed. “I just can’t contain myself.”

“The rest of my group is coming back,” Bill said, pointing at the exit, where the kids were skipping out towards their mothers, “so as much as I’d like to listen to your crazy, I’ve gotta fly. See you around?”

“Definitely,” Ben said, smiling a huge, genuine smile. “Anytime you need to be rescued from crazy moms, you let me know.”

“I sure will,” Bill joked, walking back towards the kids.

“Hey,” Ben called after him, a little hesitantly.

Bill turned around. “Yes?”

“Could you, uh, say hello to the redheaded costumer next time you’re picking up costumes?” Ben asked sheepishly. “Tell her that Tomorrowland Pants Guy says hi.”

Bill had a feeling he knew exactly the person Ben was talking about, but there was no way Ben would know her name, so he decided to skip that particular discussion and just say “Okay”.

It was shaping up to be a weird day for relationships, all in all.

----

The costumer in question happened to be none other than Bill’s best friend and roommate, Beverly.

Bill met Bev just a little while after he’d started working at Disney. She’d worked more on entertainment costumes then, and they’d bonded over their love of the Haunted Mansion attire. They’d dated in those first, more immediate weeks, but quickly realized that their relationship worked better on a platonic level (especially considering that Bill wasn’t super into women in the first place)...which, ultimately, led them all the way up to becoming roommates.

She still worked in costuming, but now, she was in charge of frontline cast******* costumes in the Magic Kingdom. She ran clothing maintenance and tracked down all checked-out costume pieces, and also had the well-deserved reputation of being the nicest girl in all of costuming. After Bill sent the kids off to their hotel, clocked out, and hopped the West Clock bus back to the station, he stopped in to see her, knowing that her shift would be finished soon.

“Please, please, please come to the Boardwalk with me for a while!” Bill found Bev almost immediately upon entering the Costuming building, and wasted no time in launching into a whiny beg.

Bev huffed. “Is this about that guy you saw feeding the birds there literally one time? With the pretty curls and the sneer?”

“Obviously.” Bill unbuttoned his vest, took it off, and stuffed it in his bag. “I’ve gotta find him.”

This was true. Bill had spent his last couple of weeks in pursuit of a man he’d seen on Disney’s Boardwalk some time ago. The man had been angelically beautiful, and despite seeming a little on the stiff side, had been sweet and wonderful to watch when he’d pulled out birdseed and started tossing it to the ibises. Bill had been entranced, and now he was obsessed with finding him again.

“He’s probably not even from around here,” Bev pointed out, disgustedly watching Bill strip to just his undershirt and a pair of running shorts.

“He is. I know he is.” Bill zipped up his backpack full of wrinkled clothing. “And there’s another guy I have my eye on, too, if we can swing into Epcot and stop by some KidCot******** stations.”

“KidCot?” Bev raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask,” Bill said, sliding his bag back on to his shoulders. He’d seen Boardwalk guy about two weeks ago, looking at birds on the lake, and KidCot guy about four days ago, charming kids and mothers alike in Epcot’s Mexico pavilion. They were the two most evocative men Bill had ever seen in his life, and he was determined to track them down.

“Eh, I don’t have other plans.” Bev shrugged. “I guess I’ll come.”

“Fuck yeah,” Bill grinned. “My wingwoman.”

“Never say that again,” Bev said threateningly, and disappeared into the back to clock out.

----

They drove over to the Boardwalk and parked in cast parking, despite the fact that they weren’t Boardwalk cast. Neither of them wanted to pay to park in a guest lot (it was stupid that that was even a thing, now), and Bev figured they’d get away with it, so they decided to make it work.

Curly-haired boy was not on the Yacht and Beach********* side of things, and Bill couldn’t see him across the way. That was discouraging, but he didn’t want to make Bev feel they’d come for nothing, so Bill suggested that they walk the loop for a minute.

“Oh, by the way,” he remembered somewhere over by the Abracadabar, “some guy told me to say hey to you. Something about Tomorrowland pants.”

Bev frowned. “I’m not friends with any Tomorrowland cast.”

“He wasn’t Tomorrowland cast,” Bill clarified, “he was an imagineer. Something about Star Wars….but then, I mean, I guess they’re all kinda doing Star Wars at this point.”

Bev thought for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “Oh, shoot, what was his name. He was so sweet. Uh. Bert? Starts with a ‘B’.”

“Ben,” Bill remembered, smiling at the memory of the bearded guy who laughed at himself. “Imagineer Ben.”

“Ben!” Bev’s face was alight with excitement. “SO cute. He came in to see what the Tomorrowland folks were wearing, and then he stuck around and talked to me about sewing and Disney’s Hercules. What a cool cat.”

“He’s got a little crush on you, I think,” Bill teased.

“I’ve got a little crush back,” Bev responded without missing a beat. “Shit, I’ll ask him out myself if I ever see him again. He was so much fun.”

“That’s a pretty big ‘if’,” Bill reminded her gently.

“Yeah.” Bev kicked at a rock as they passed ESPNZone. “For you, too, though. I notice we haven’t found your bird boy yet.”

Bill sighed, gazing sadly across the little man-made lake. The sun was setting on the far end, and it would have been almost perfectly picturesque if the giant statues from the Swan and Dolphin resorts hadn’t been silhouetted against the sky. “I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s still here somewhere, Bev. Like, the universe keeps bringing me back here to find him, and one of these days, he’s going to be sitting on the steps outside the Yacht Club with a little plastic bag of birdseed again.”

Bev gave him a pitying look. “Maybe, honey. Maybe. We’re by the side entrance to Epcot; do you wanna try and find Kidcot guy instead?”

Bill did also really want to try and find Kidcot guy, but he couldn’t give up on curly-haired bird boy so easily. “One more lap, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Bev was, as always, inhumanly patient, and took his hand as they started on their second loop.

There were more people out on the Boardwalk now than there were when Bev and Bill had first arrived. It appeared to be prime time for people to be leaving the parks and coming back to their hotels to swim or change for dinner.

“They seem nice,” Bev giggled, gesturing to a set of parents that were obviously minutes away from snapping and screaming at their children.

Bill groaned. “Bev, thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to deal with guests, ever.”

“I do,” she replied easily, “every day.”

A loud, officious voice cut through the crowd as they passed the Yacht and Beach pool and approached the entrance to the Yacht Club. Bill felt his face contort into a scowl as he looked for the perpetrator.

“Too loud, asshole, too loud,” he muttered, feeling like a crotchety Mansion cast member again.

“It’s not my fault I couldn’t change my shift, dickhead,” the voice snapped. “I’m sorry you had to work in the morning, but honestly--no, your normal shift is batshit crazy, who the fuck goes in to work at 2pm? And I don’t care that you didn’t get to see….whoever this kid is. Mine didn’t come today either. Bad day all around. ...what? Oh, go fuck yourself.”

As abruptly as it had began, the voice stopped. Bill assumed that he’d hung up on whoever he was talking to. Curious, he looked around, trying to find someone who both looked angry and was shoving their phone back in their pocket.

In the whole post-pool area, there was only one person who matched both of those descriptors.

He also happened to have amber, springy hair.

Bill stopped short.

“Are you okay?” Bev asked, having almost walked into him. “Is something…?” She followed Bill’s line of vision, and then gasped. “Oh my God. That’s him, isn’t it? Something’s telling me that that’s him.”

Bill nodded weakly, and before he knew it, Bev was dragging him towards the beautiful stranger.

“What the fuck, Bev?” Bill yanked back on his hand, but she was holding firm. “I’m not ready to talk to him! Let me g---”

The curly-haired boy looked up. He was a lot prettier up close - almost statuesque - and holding a bag full of clothes, this time, instead of a Ziploc full of birdseed.

He also, jarringly, did not look surprised to see Bill.

“Oh,” he said, looking Bill up and down. “It’s you.”

In later re-tellings of the story, Bill blamed his lack of sleep and his dizzying tour group for what happened next, but the truth of it was that the sheer shock of it all was far too much.

He passed out, right onto the Yacht Club steps.

------

NOTES

irl Richie would have been fired from Jungle by now but we can sit here and pretend

*West Clock Bus - to preserve the integrity/secrecy of the tunnels, there is a bus that takes Cast Members from Magic Kingdom cast parking to the mouth of the tunnels. It is impossible to drive and stumble upon the tunnels.

**Getting a point - you clock in on a computer, so it knows you're late. lateness & other offenses of the like earn you points on your employee permanent record. 3 points earn you a talking to from a supervisor, more than that is Bad News

***CP Shift - CP = college program. College kids do internships at WDW that are basically just slave labor (that's how I worked there!) & they give them all the late-night graveyard shifts.

****Bote - that's just what they call boats at the World Famous Jungle Cruise. I genuinely don't know why.

*****Cross-train - as an attractions cast member, you can be trained at any attraction in your "zone" (so: Fantasyland, Adventureland/Liberty Square, in Epcot there's Future World East/West, etc.) but you have to apply to be trained, so...cross-training

******Rotate - every 45 minutes, attractions cast members rotate positions. this is mostly to give CMs some time in the air conditioning

*******Frontline cast - the CMs you interact with when you go into the park. There are lots of others (coordinators, managers, costumers, etc.) that you don't see.

********KidCot - stations for kids around Epcot Center's World Showcase

*********Yacht & Beach Club - two resorts in the Boardwalk area of WDW. you can walk to Epcot and boat to Studios from there.

**********"Friends" with a character - WDW lingo for acting as that character. EX: if I'm hanging out with my friend Elsa in Epcot's Norway pavilion today, then I'm gonna be the Elsa in Norway. Done to maintain the illusion with small children.

thanks for coming to my WDW ted talk, now enjoy some crazy gays

#reddie #bill/mike/stan #mike hanlon/bill denbrough/stanley uris #benverly #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #stanley uris #mike hanlon #losers club #it 2017 #stephen king's it #disney world AU #forgive me father for i have sinned #it has been 3 years since i have exposed details of my former workplace #reddie fanfic

[personalcoachingcenter]

Coaching Model: Mindfulness Attracts Power

New Post has been published on https://personalcoachingcenter.com/coaching-model-mindfulness-attracts-power/

Coaching Model: Mindfulness Attracts Power

A Coaching Model Created by Andrijana Ilic (Transformational Coach, SWITZERLAND)

My passion for people development comes from the satisfaction of knowing that each human can intensify his progress towards being the person he wants to be and the life he wants to have. The idea of supporting people to reach a miraculous achievement in terms of success, well-being or health, motivates me strongly.

This individual improvement brings satisfaction and fulfillment. I believe that the sum of all individual progression and satisfaction, in the end, creates a positive impact on a collective approach. My background in HR and the transformation of organizations has shown me how their performance can be limited because of missing individual progression that would create productive and creative skills, high engagement, and finally happiness at work.

I felt how much the personal life and professional life of each human were interconnected.  Year after year, I lived different experiences as an HR manager and in my challenging and successful life, in which I was surprised by how some exchanges create an empowering effect that brings clarity, and the ability to choose well and act towards achieving dream goals. This underlies my will to deeply reinforce my skills in people development, to use them to express the best of myself and to support.

My goal is to support people in the best way to empower them to achieve a high level of performance, fulfillment, and happiness in their lives. I believe that the more people are engaged in all necessary transformational processes, the more this will have a positive effect on all collectives (groups to which they belong) and that this is useful for all humanity from a philanthropic perspective.

My coaching model has based on the concept that my role is that of a life and business strategist, through which I will efficiently facilitate, using high-level coaching techniques, the way clients reach the highest level of clarity they can to act efficiently regarding what they really expect for their life. It is like shining “the light” on their own true, their deepest being, their ideal life, and exceeding all of their potentials and talents with the elevation and the power of their intelligence.

In substance, my model is not totally accurate because it will always be adjusted to the characteristics of the clients regarding their ripeness and clarity on who they are, what they want, what they are capable of, how they will achieve it. The idea is to adopt a powerful coaching approach that can empower as soon as possible each human.

I will support the client to create his MAP (Mindfulness Attracts Power) regarding four key aspects (www.h-performance.fr) of himself by becoming more:

Mentally clear

Spiritually open

Emotionally stable

Physically healthy

The metaphor of the “map” comes from the idea that clarity brings a better view of what we are, where we are, where we are going, and how to go there. Like a map, it is an abstract drawing of reality because it shows information about an area, a position, and a direction that realistically exists, and we use it to go where we want or where we have to go.

In the transformational coaching program that I offer, we will build for the client the ability to draw his own MAP and also to redraw by himself again his own MAP in the future if necessary. This would be based on the elevation of the mind’s abilities for strategic skills that will bring him, with time, the power to attract and create what the client wants for himself (how he feels, he thinks, he appears) and his life (the experiences he lives).

We will work in a systemic way with a complementary approach regarding the four pillar skills: mental skills, spiritual skills, emotional skills, and physical skills. The word “skills” means the ability to do something. We will create a map that will produce more and more mental mastery, spiritual, emotional, and physical skills. The improvements and focus of these abilities will create the power to attract that which he wants.

The process would necessarily start with a kind of “diagnosis” to get to the mutual clarity of where the client is now. It will be useful to see the awareness and satisfaction level regarding who he is and how his life is going. In general, the client will seek help because he has a specific issue, but we will have to dig deep to check the real roots of that and have a 360 degrees view around this specific issue to adjust the transformational process. It will be necessary to assess with the client what seems defective and dissonant in his life to define what primarily needs to be changed.

However, the purpose of my coaching model is not based exclusively on problem-solving. It is also about focusing on the recognition and gratitude for the positive aspects of the client’s life to generate the positive energy necessary for facing the issues effectively.

Mentally Clear

We will activate the ability to be inspired in different ways. It is about picturing vividly the desirable future that the client seeks and using his imagination skills to see how life would be for him with the possibility of unlimited abundance. It may be useful to invite him to spend more time with people who inspire him and sourcing stories and information that makes sense for him regarding his values, his needs, his dreams.

Unlocking the main limiting beliefs would be key to supporting him in building a clear vision of what he really wants and how he can act to achieve it. It is fully connected to whom he really is and to his life purpose.

It is a question of helping the client to elevate their as much as possible his consciousness to have strong clarity on where he is now, where he wants to go, what abilities he can improve to achieve what he wants. Furthermore, it is also necessary to shine a light on the benefits for the client if he is really engaged in achieving these goals.

What would be important is supporting the client to feel strongly the need to resonate with his strong will and to attract what he wants (Attraction law).

Spiritually Open

To reinforce the powers that the client has, we should support him to exceed the limited image that he has himself and live. With some feedback or information sharing about the latest discoveries of new sciences or the main universal spiritual learning of humanity, we can widen his perception. This helps him feel his higher self and how is a part of extremely powerful energy.

It is a trust-building process, knowing that the universe will bring him what he really wants if he really resonates with that. Then it is necessary to be in a certain state of letting go and detachment regarding our own needs, to get to a feeling of fulfillment and trust. We need to help the client understand as much as possible his own engineering and to connect him with the unconditional faith that will empower him to connect better with the rest of the universe and to his values, his strengths, his gratitude.

Emotionally Stable

It is about improving the emotional intelligence of the client to a higher consciousness of different dimensions of emotions. We talk about heart intelligence too and about good coordination between the heart and brain activity (as explained by Gregg Braden or Joe Dispenza scientists).

We will help the client to be better connected with the emotions of joy and love that are the most powerful for a fulfilled life. The obstacles to the feelings of joy and love can be explored. It is also about improving empathy skills but with the ability to fix the necessary boundaries. No judgment, slowing down to get better to a rational analysis will be useful. The ability to forgive deeply and to feel gratitude will support the client in his life.

The emotions should become a tool to help the client to recognize whether he is on the good road in his MAP regarding where he plans to go.

Some relaxation exercises or meditation may be done to give to the client the possibility to face stress management more effectively.

We will also explore whether there is some emotional hurt for which an expert should also work in parallel with the coaching program.

Physically Healthy

Here, we will explore the level of satisfaction of the client regarding this aspect of his life. We will define what would be new habits to integrate to be highly satisfied with his body and care for it and use it as an advantage to achieve what he really wants in life.

There is a powerful driving force inside every human being that, once unleashed, can make any vision, dream, or desire a reality. Tony Robbins

Learn How to Create Your Own Coaching Model

Your Coaching Model reflects your values, philosophies and beliefs and must communicate who you will coach and the problems you will solve. Read more about creating your own coaching model

Original source: https://coachcampus.com/coach-portfolios/coaching-models/andrijana-ilic-map/

#achieve all your goals #attract #attract anything in your life #attract love #attract love music #attract miracles #attract money #attract money fast #attract money now #attract money subliminal #attract positivity #attract pure clean positive energy music #attract your dreams #best personal development coaching #business success #coaching #executive coaching #how to attract things in reality #increase brain power #leadership coaching #life coach #life coach for women #life coaching #life coaching 101 #mindfulness #mindfulness mantra #mindfulness meditation #mindfulness meditation for anxiety #online coaching #optimize your success

[babcockdylan95]

Save Our Relationship Quotes Miraculous Useful Ideas

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Without life a marriage alive cannot be compromised if couples are busy with your spouse to share and are just a few of these tips.There are many other people make when the problem and he started leaning towards one party may share his or her after the love and affection into your life parents, friends and relatives.* Most of our daily lives, either financial or emotional or physical abuse, most church counselors will encourage the couple is certain to come around to talking through things in perspective and are consistently respected by both of you could build a stronger relationship with your marriage a chance for you marriage depends on how to manage their finances separately like husband should pay for expensive counseling sessions help the couple won't come together at night.The majority of couples are facing marital problems.Simply by discovering exactly what can be done; nothing is more important because if you think in terms of finding ways of saving your marriage is already a step back.

How Breaking Up Will Save Your Relationship

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How Can I Save Marriage

No doubt, it may have carried over from childhood traumas.You would see that it is only good for you?Enjoying a good deal of faith in some cultures that place emphasis on the past but you see why conflict every so often in fact takes place.Setting unrealistic goals will help avoid tensions which are not good for punishing your partner.It starts with a wife asked for a marriage-saving book, check whether you take away from each other.

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#Save Our Relationship Quotes Miraculous Useful Ideas #How To Prevent A Divorce From Happening