2021.12.03 22:27 tantrumdisco help. my asian parents constantly mistreat and degrade my grandma.
hello. it is difficult for me to say these kinds of deeply rooted family matters online, but i am really concerned for the safety and health of my grandmother (70 years old next year)
she is miserable at home most of the time, yet chooses not to focus on it because she believes she has the duty to care for her family. me and my parents. my parents who is mostly away at work all the time and who feel entitled to her.
just some incidents at the top of my head which i think are extremely problematic:
2021.12.03 22:27 fbsocbskddnn Does rap NEED a meaning?
I made a rap verse for “insane in the brain” by cypress hill and the biggest criticism I got was I say nothing. But almost every rap song I listen to doesn’t have a meaning. You either have insane storytelling that tells a detailed story. Or the rap song is just showing off skill and having fun. What is my song missing what other songs like “patty cake by token” or “godzilla by Eminem” has?
“To the one on the flamboyant tip
I’ll just toss that ham in the frying pan
So Aww man
It’s really sad to see him go
He’d grow up one day to be a CEO
Billie went flying
Then she got a little violent
Crashing every pilot
Twenty one of them silenced
Had a big wine list
Got drunk killed em all like her stylist
It ain’t always sunny when I’m in a different county
So I gather up a tally then I bounce the bounty
Then I put him in his place before he found me
I gave him a warning waiting till it was cloudy
My mind ain’t slow when playing these games
I cock load and aim
Able to kill Cain
I might stand out in the pouring rain
Cause I must confess my brain is insane”
I’ve heard mixed opinions on the Billie eilish line. Some loved it and it left them shocked and others said it was stupid
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2021.12.03 22:27 Jazzlike_Treacle_30 Unifier Second Draft
The second draft is hereafter getting helpful feedback from the community, wrapping up finals, and working on edits and improvements for the past five/six hours. I changed the beginning, made certain names clearer, and I believe I removed most of the issues. That being said, there are likely things I missed, and I experimented with new concepts and ideas, so I likely missed things. Once again, I'd love any and all feedback and criticism so I can continue growing.
The Unifier Second Draft
submitted by Jazzlike_Treacle_30 to Screenwriting [link] [comments]
2021.12.03 22:27 IdeaActionUtterance Mariel Buckley -- Hundred Cities [Country/Roots] (2021)
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2021.12.03 22:27 Marius46 Channeled message from Q'uo to wanderers/starseeds
I've come across this passege from a channeling session and I can tell you it helped a lot finding it out, so I hope it'll do the same for you.
...Indeed, the commitment to become a wanderer is not taken lightly. It is thought out carefully and considered for a considerable amount of your time, indeed, centuries of your time, while the commitment to the work is perfected, refined and honed to a sharp edge. It is an act of great courage to be a wanderer.submitted by Marius46 to starseeds [link] [comments]
What wanderers usually do not realize is that that which is so obvious and easy from the other side of the veil is impossible to read and difficult to bear within the thick veiling of the third density of Earth, with its free will and its extremely thick veil. The danger always is that the wanderer will not wake up, or, if it is partially awake, that it will awaken only to complain that it is not comfortable, that it wants to go home, that it must leave this place that is so polluted and dirty.
To those who feel these things, we would suggest that it is precisely because this planet is so in need of higher vibrations that you came to serve at this time, to help lighten the vibrations of Planet Earth. And you could not do this without incarnating and becoming one of the tribe of humankind. Your love was so great that you took that step. And now you have awakened and you know how difficult a step it was to take. We encourage you to take hold of the honor and the duty of being a wanderer.
That which you know of the higher planes, that which you remember in a dim or not so dim way, bring into your heart and let it bless the environment that you see before you, just as it is. You are not here to clean it up. You are not here to make it right. You are not here to fix it. For all of the outer world is an illusion. You are here to love it. Take the world in your arms and embrace it. This is how you came to serve. This is your glory and your crown. Wear it well and rejoice in being here.
2021.12.03 22:27 espressofuel Can we make this subreddit private ?
I'm baffled and worried at the amount of beginner questions regarding complex leveraged products.
Backtest or not, nobody knows how the future will be and the attention this sub has been getting in the past months(correlated to massive red days) is worrying.
Anybody that doesn't know the minimum basics of investing, should not be considering leveraged products. There's a reason brokerages like IBKR require special permissions.
The title is a genuine question, and I'd like the mods to discuss about it.
submitted by espressofuel to LETFs [link] [comments]
2021.12.03 22:27 TonyBravo99 Luffy (now in the story) vs Doffy, how easy would it be for luffy to beat him?
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2021.12.03 22:27 Instinct--- They cant stop whats coming
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2021.12.03 22:27 TRPilsner "Lost" 50/50 to C1 :)
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2021.12.03 22:27 Wild_Guide8310 Hoping they can add a replay function soon. Bcus i hit a lot of crazy snipes and i want to rewatch them lmao.
2021.12.03 22:27 CrypticMillennial Anybody tried Springboard boot camp???
So about 6 months ago, I decided to change careers and get into web development.
I’ve learned a good deal, but I really don’t feel like I know anything yet.
I can build simple websites with HTML, and add some styling with CSS, but when it comes to JS, I just don’t feel confident or comfortable with it, which is a little disheartening seeing I’ve been doing this since July of this year.
This brings me to my question,
Has anyone tried Colt Steel’s software engineering bootcamp where they allow you to defer payment until you get a job, and they absolutely GUARANTEE you a job within 6 months, or you don’t have to pay?
I feel like having an instructor to actually converse with on the harder topics would be really beneficial to me.
So, does anyone have any experience with it?
Please share any and all details you know about it.
submitted by CrypticMillennial to webdev [link] [comments]
2021.12.03 22:27 OkOpinion4612 Best way to improve this squad? Ps. Really wished I’d done the Fofana potm but I hadn’t packed Messi when it was out 😭(everything untradeable except for dembele and cornet)
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2021.12.03 22:27 Individual-Cookie2 I asked starryai to paint "Spirited Away", any thoughts ?
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2021.12.03 22:27 toadpuppy Sims 4 beagles
You can request songs! They run constantky! It legit makes me miss my noisy, stinky, food-motivated, highly energetic little beagle buddies Daisy and Rocky.
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2021.12.03 22:27 otakudiary1 Lupin III Isekai Spinoff Manga's 1st Season Ends, 2nd Season Debuts on February 24
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2021.12.03 22:27 v-ralley Delta SkyMiles Cards: Worth it?
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2021.12.03 22:27 Ikarostv Can you not farm specific monsters anymore + farm parts easily? Been over a year since I’ve been gone.
2021.12.03 22:27 Elunounkstaar Got em
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2021.12.03 22:27 FatDumbUgly Unpopular Opinion: Small cocks are better than big cocks. Change my mind.
2021.12.03 22:27 ErodedOptimist Bf wants to see me even though I have mild breakthrough covid. Why does this make me want him so much worse!
So I (29f), have been dating this guy (33m) for a few months and it’s been going pretty good. 5 days ago I tested positive and have a very mild case, just feels like a head cold, but have been quarantining at my place and have another 5 days :(
Well my bf had covid about 2-3 months ago- also a breakthrough case. He’s been so sweet offering to bring food/medicine whatever I need. Well he came by tonight and we talked for awhile from my window. He said he really wanted come inside to be with me, and that he hated I was stuck home alone. He said he wasn’t too worried because he has immunity, I’m not that sick, and it’s been awhile since I first got symptoms.
I told him it probably wasn’t a good idea and he pushed back a little, almost begging because he wanted me so bad and he said it was worth it. Eventually he agreed to not come in and later apologized if he was being pushy. I said it was fine, but DAMN this turned me on. This guy had admitted he has strong feelings for me and it meant kinda a lot that he was willing to take that risk to spend time with me.
Is that bad?
submitted by ErodedOptimist to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
2021.12.03 22:27 DemonLordMammon I found an odd notebook in my garage, and I don't think I want to know who owned it.
I think I should preface this with one overarching statement; I'm not one of those guy's who's constantly on some kind of true crime binge, not anything like those absolute morons who eat, live, and breathe this kind of stuff. Personally speaking, Netflix documentaries have done more to dissuade my enthusiasm towards this stuff. The last thing this world needs is more fucking idiots idolising people like Ted Bundy or the Zodiac Killer.
However, I won't go and lie like there's not something out there that entices me about the particularly morbid stories that I come across every now and again. Like, am I wrong for wanting to know more about them? It's like a car crash in real time, no matter how horrible it is, you can't really stop yourself from looking towards it. Kinda like that time I saw a charred car with an exploded engine as my coach raced us to our basketball game across the country.
I suppose now would be a good time to say why I'm writing this in the first place then, and why it was these topics I decided to dredge up for the start of whatever this is going to be.
You see, the garage at the back of the house is filthy. Like, it's a health hazard that even a radioactive suit couldn't protect you from. Whether it was the stench of rot, the sick aftertaste of damp wood that inexplicably conquered your tongue, or the many, many infestations of rats, the whole place was just begging you to leave the second you entered.
Trying to clean the thing out is a nightmare, that could be the horror story all by itself. I could go on and on about the trash littering the place like an overflowing rubbish dump. Alternately, I could list all the stupid shit my dad had decided to hoard in the decaying wooden creates he made years ago.
However, that would do a real disservice to the actual thing I'm writing about. It was like a little shining piece of gold amongst the shitty river, and was actually worth pulling out of its watery prison. (Side note: I'm disinfecting my hands once this is said and done, sticky shit is stuck all over them. I think it's sap.)
A simple notebook was shoved in there. One with a pristine, untainted cover no less. The title was written in big, bold purposeful letters. Clearly, someone had to have been awful proud of this little thing if they were that flamboyant about it.
Oh, and I say someone instead of one of my family members because I'm not moronic enough to assume they wrote it. 1) It wasn't in any of our handwriting because it was actually legible. 2) It ain't mine because I didn't know this thing existed less than thirty minutes. 3) My sister didn't live with us, she had moved out when I was still a child. My brother... Well, he wasn't here with us in any capacity, it's still a pretty tetchy subject among out family. Let's just say, the woods round the back of the house haven't been entered in a year or so.
The notebook had a rather simple title, kinda shitting on the nature of the writing. 'Implements', was the title that had been bestowed upon it. The whole cover, whilst pristine, was also this very muted shade of grey. Like, grey grey as well. Not your pussy light grey or dark grey, it was just grey all over. Everything about it just was grey.
That could be extended to the pages as well as I flipped the book open to the first page, noticing the fact that any place where a name could be written was scratched out. The first page, while not as grey as the cover, was still grey everywhere I looked. Honest to God, for the first few seconds I thought I went colour blind. Grey paper, grey letters, grey dividers, it was like it was some avant garde fetish.
But once you got past that utter stroke of brilliance in colour composition, the rest of it was comparably normal... As comparably normal as an odd notebook that no one in your family wrote, yet had somehow found its way into your garage, could be. Hey, nobody and nothing is perfect in this world. I'm just a spoke on the wheel, man.
As I flipped through more pages, the whole thing seemed just as mundane as its colour palette. I was regaled with frankly riveting stories of this person's everyday life. Such as:
"The weather is nice, for once. I saw that Grace child across the road again, going for a walk all dressed up in her Sunday best. Must be nice for the children when the sun's out like this, getting to roam about to their little heart's content. Maybe I'll go ask if I can join in one day."
And such amazing tales like:
"The microwave's broken again, stupid thing. Just another thing to add to the list... Shame, I rather liked that one, was always good at getting the most out of them. A baster, wooden spoon, and pan can only go so far in bringing out flavour. Although... Maybe I could add some fresh peanut butter to properly adjust the texture..."
Clearly, this man lived a life that few could ever hope to achieve!
What was going to be next? Was he going to write down the time his toilet didn't flush properly? Or was he going to wax poetic about the fact his fucking kettle was broken?
My joy of discovery was fading fast. How could it not? Here I was, still in the annoying as fuck garage mind you, and I was somehow being bored to death by some guy's pointless day to day observations. It could have been worse, I suppose. He could've used it as some angsty tumblr blog about how much he hated the world because his parents never loved him, there was always that option that prevented most things from being the worst in the world.
But then again... What was I really going to be doing the rest of the day? My parents were away, down at the small boat we had in the south of the country. I was home all by myself, and had only taken to this as a sort of side project because usual avenues were just so boring. Plus, who needed friends? Clearly not me or this guy!
So, despite my abject boredom, I continued to flip through the notebook. In the back of my mind, the title of the book was still sat. 'Implements,' it was a bit of an odd title to give to something that seemed offensively mundane and average. With how mysterious the whole thing was, you'd have expected it to be detailing what was the start of some Lovecraftian ritual. Instead, as more pages became lost to me the second they left my sight, there was nothing here that stunk of anything interesting beyond the odd weird comment.
Occasionally, you'd see the odd page written in black ink, saving you from the monotony of the monochrome book. But more importantly, there was something a lot more... How can I put this...? Unleashed about them?
It wasn't the typical shit, the guy actually seemed like he had some kind of passion in these pages.
"The feeling was the most immense pleasure I've ever partaken in in my life. How cruel it was to hide it from me for so long! And people are so willing to indulge me in it! The kids just love it! Sure, their parents might get a few looks about them, like they were trying to swallow their tongues, but that's not relevant! Some of these kids... They're real cleaver ones, I must say. Always manage to outfox me... Good... Good swing on them, especially the Grace child...'
Although, to say that passion was a good thing would be grossly missing the mark. I didn't want to think too much of the implications I was seeing in that paragraph. Not least suggesting that the guy who wrote this was an adult...
My hands started to grip the pages tighter as I sifted through some more. I didn't see another black inked page for a while. In a brief respite, it was back to those mundane comments about not getting hired for a farming job he had apparently sent for, or the fact he had somehow missed placed his wallet only to find out that it was where he left it the whole time. A nice young girl had helped him with that one apparently.
In a way, after the shudder inducing thoughts that entered my head courtesy of the black ink, the boring grey became a heaven of sorts. Not a very thrilling one, but one none the less. I recall one too many times about being shouted at for looking a gift horse in the mouth.
However, my relief was not long lived. After a good thirty or so pages of mundane grey, the horrible black was back again.
'Lousy good for nothing... Whole fucking thing is a disgrace! I was being very polite and courteous, perhaps the most courteous person in history! I ask the strapping pair of them if they want lunch, they say yes, I go to make them lunch, and the next thing I know they're bolting out of my house! The rudeness! Well... At least I got food out of it-'
I really hoped that wasn't what I thought it was.
And the worst part was that it was still going onto the next page...
'Bah! It's no matter! I'll just have to remind myself that not everyone here is worth keeping company, least of all rude piglets. Next week... I'll try again next week...'
Ugh... Words couldn't begin to describe how I felt ready that. This guy had a way with words that was just so slimy, they would wriggle their ways into my ears and slither around my brain to the point where it felt like a real slug was up there.
Turning yet another page and the tension in my shoulders still wasn't allowed to be relaxed. The stabbing pain in between the blades with the next page, marked out in red ink, only escalated.
'My favourite thing... My absolute favourite thing in this whole wide world... She gave it all to me... The thrill, the chase, the catharsis... The feeling of my hands around her neck was almost orgasmic. Ten, nine, zero fingers that tried to claw their way out of my embrace.'
The next page went further...
'I choked her to death, how sweet and tender her little body looked as I gazed upon her. I would never see her sunny smile again, and a part of me felt sad. Sadness that will surely pass, but sadness nevertheless! Oh, she really was the perfect summer child, that dress of hers was absolutely exquisite. A little wisteria blossom, too pure for the world around her. She'll find the perfect home within me...'
It was the only feeling I could grasp in that very instance, the book clattering to the floor and remaining there with a little tent forming amongst it.
But none of that really mattered, all I could really feel was the bile building up in my system. I could feel my lunch pounding at the door and begging to be let loose, and it was within mere seconds of doing so. It was still somehow more pleasant than the horrible miasma I could feel myself breathing in.
With my eyes closed, it was very much a spray and pray operation. It went everywhere it could. However, with the fact I wasn't looking where I was going, I could feel my foot crash against something metal that had no place being down here.
Still gagging I cracked my eyes open, groggily reaching out for the box I had likely keyed. My throbbing foot and sick coated mouth being mere side thoughts at this point.
In hindsight, I really shouldn't have looked in there.
What I saw was none other than a small, cloth bag tied with a tiny piece of rope that fell apart on touch.
What I saw as a result? A cleaver, a handsaw, a paddleboard with nails on it, and a butcher's knife. All still stained to the teeth with red splotches, dulled to an extent like they had seen some serious action through tough material. The cleaver even looked burnt to a certain extent, but that was neither here nor there.
I immediately scarpered away from the bloody implements of hell, not taking the time to even look at the book I had left lying there before I swiftly locked the garage door well behind me. I would have to explain to my dad why the lock was now suddenly tighter than it had even been before, but that was future me's problem.
All I could think about was the wording of the last sentence of the book and the bloody weapons. 'Within me...' and the mentions of the microwave being broken... His obsession with kids...
If you excuse me.
I'm going to be even more sick than I was before...
submitted by DemonLordMammon to nosleep [link] [comments]
2021.12.03 22:27 Apprehensive_Gap6546 pra tu lembrar do tempo que nos brigava em troca daquela parada branca em Madureira rs... Tempo bom que não volta
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2021.12.03 22:27 shittyEngineerrr I have all my fingers...
2021.12.03 22:27 GamingGuitarist101 h m m m m
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2021.12.03 22:27 angelxtearss Trading Teddy Z and Val 20 for Amazon Gift Card, Visa Gift Card, Or Robux!