#I love jiu-jitsu and I’m so happy I was able to go to practice again (for the first time in a. while) but also. ouch :(

[tragedykery]

hate when actions (going to practice) have consequences (ouchie)

#elli rambles #I love jiu-jitsu and I’m so happy I was able to go to practice again (for the first time in a. while) but also. ouch :( #my neck especially is being a little bitch

[matrixreimagined]

The Dream Chronicles

Chapter Six on A03

or right here :)

"Come on, coppertop. Flying in the Matrix doesn't mean shit if you can't support your own weight in the real world. Five more."

Neo dipped down again, feeling his arms quake as he grew closer to the floor before he forced himself back up. And again. And again. The sweat beaded on his brow dripped to the steel floor. His arms and abdomen and legs were aching for five minutes of just sitting down. He'd be happy to collapse. But Apoc must have been a drill sergeant in another life because the man knew exactly which buttons to push.

You think Trin deserves a weak, scrawny kid who can barely muster his way through a pull-up? You think she's going to want someone who can only embrace her with the floppy-noodle arms of an infant?

Fuck that.

Neo let his arms take his weight and ignored the quiver of his abdomen while he closed his eyes and pictured hers. There was no waking up from this, he had accepted. This was real. The dreams he had lived for had become his reality and he would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to keep it.

Neo inhaled has he dipped down a final time before forcing himself back up. He let out a small gasp as he allowed his knee to make contact with the floor.

"Well done," Apoc said, tossing a towel at him.

Neo brushed away the sweat before trading it for a water bottle. "Please tell me we're done for the day?"

"Why?" Apoc quirked a brow. "Think you got enough in you for another round?"

Neo decided silence was the best course of action.

Apoc shot him a grin. "Don't worry. My goal is to push your limits. Not break them. Because you'll be doing this tomorrow, too."

"Great." He took a long gulp. "Love this. Super fun."

"I take it you have no memories of this?"

"What? Basic training? Calisthenics? Can't say I do."

"It won't be forever. Just until you're at a healthy mass. Think you could eat lunch?"

"Eating it won't be the problem. I'm worried about holding it down."

"We can forgo lunch for now. Want to take a nap before you get your Matrix crash courses?"

Desperately, but he shook his head in denial anyway. He'd slept long enough. "No. I'm good to start. I want to catch back up to where I was. Or, where I should be, I guess."

That was going to take a while, he knew. While his dreams had given him enormous insights into the world around him, every member of the crew looked at him like a stranger. Even Trinity did not know him the way that he knew her.

Yes, she was welcoming. The undeniable chemistry between them was alive and real. And the crew were largely trying to not make him feel like an outsider, but the fact remained they didn't know him.

He could recite one of Dozer's kids' favorite story books cover to cover. He knew Tank's anniversary and that Apoc collected old-world trinkets. He knew that Switch would slouch when they had a winning hand at poker and Morpheus was a worse liar than Neo was. But they did not know him.

And they wouldn't. Not until he had reintroduced himself. Not until he listened to them all, relearning what he knew. He would be a stranger until he relearned himself.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to take a short break?"

"Positive," said Neo, rising to his feet. "Besides, I'll just be in the chair anyway. I'll relax my muscles and work my brain."

Apoc led the way out of the makeshift gym in the engine room and back to the main level. Trinity was sitting on a stool near the operating station examining the screens intensely.

She turned at the sound of steps and offered a smile when she saw them. "How did it go?" she asked Apoc.

"Amazingly. Honestly, I've never had a coppertop do so well in the first week, let alone the first day."

Neo looked at him incredulously. "Seriously? You gave me so much shit about how I was doing!"

Apoc smirked. "Well, a pat on the back wasn't going to help you do better, Messiah."

"You'll sleep like a baby tonight," said Tank. "You want to take a break before you start this?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm ready to start."

"All right. Trin, can you get him set up?" Tank spun around back to the computer and opened a case with a bunch of small drives. "I know you already remember a lot but your girl wants us to cover your bases." He held up one that had Jiu-Jitsu crammed across it in red ink and ensured that Neo was indeed plugged in and ready to go. "Hold on."

A sharp pulse went through his body, tensing him up. He felt impossibly stiff as a rush of information entered his system and then it was gone, leaving him thrown back and limp. And breathed in and shuddered. "Oh shit."

"Hey Mikey, I think he likes it." Tank gave him a grin, but his eyes flashed to Trinity. She smirked and swept his brow.

"How do you feel?"

"Shit, that's a rush."

"Feel up for another?"

"Hell yes." He leaned back. "Hell yes."

Kung Fu.

Karate.

Aikido.

Taekwondo.

Krav Maga.

Fencing.

Arnis.

Boxing.

Kickboxing.

Drunken boxing.

Quarterstaff.

Judo.

It went on and on, hour by hour. Every offer of a break from Tank was denied. He kept going, desperate to regain the parts of his memories that were lost.

Morpheus came by when dinner had passed without a sign of Tank, Trinity, or Neo.

"How's he doing?" Morpheus asked.

"He's a freaking machine," Tank said, rubbing at his own eyes. "Not even tired from this. The only reason we're stopping in the next half hour is because Mamacita over here is insisting."

Trin whacked him upside the head and Tank winced even as he grinned.

Morpheus looked at Trinity. "Can I ask what your plan is?"

"Day divided into real world and construct for the next few days. He's physically training with Apoc, who insists he's doing well. I think with the speed at which he can handle the trainings, he should be done in two days with operations, combat, and first aid. From there, we can divide time in the construct between vehicular and stealth trainings and practice within the construct. Open world—drop him in and see what he can do and go from there."

It was a thorough plan though Morpheus quirked a brow. "Hmm."

"You disagree?" she asked, not unkindly.

"No. It makes sense. I'm just surprised you're choosing to have him spend so much time in training."

"Like I said, Morpheus, it's not the training itself that I disagree with. He needs just as much as any newbie. But Neo has an advantage in speed and that will be utilized."

Neo, whose eyes had been fluttering as he learned to stitch, cauterize, and otherwise close a wound, blinked back into reality. He exhaled sharply. His eyes opened and he caught Morpheus' gaze.

"Neo," the captain addressed, "how are you holding up?"

"I know what moves were missing in my mind," he replied, his lips twitching into a smile. "I know Kung Fu."

"Just a few more programs and first aid will be done," Trinity told him as Tank switched the drives. "We'll stop there for the day."

Neo nodded and smiled at her before Tank inserted the next lesson and, once again, Neo's eyes fluttered through a new program.

"Truly astounding," Morpheus murmured, watching the screen that monitored Neo's brain as the new information was uploaded.

"I've never seen a poddie adjust like this," Tank said with a disbelieving shake of the head. "This point, we're usually still getting the kid to trust us enough to upload something and if we're lucky enough to get them in the chair, they can barely handle an hour at this."

"He's doing well." Trinity handed Tank the next disk in the program sequence, allowing Neo to remain completely wired in while his brain recalibrated itself with the new information.

"Doing well?" Tank said. "Trin, your boyfriend is freaking out of control."

"Still human," she repeated the small phrase that had somehow become her mantra over the past days. Yes, Neo knew more than any poddie had ever known. Yes, his skills were already unparalleled. But she'd be damned if that was all he was reduced to.

"Ain't denying it," said Tank, "which is kind of what makes this all so incredible."

Trin gave a slight nod. "Just make sure it stays remembered when we get to Zion. I don't know what's going to be worse—the Council or the military."

"None of it will be pretty. You'll have your work cut out for you."

"That's why I want him in shape as soon as possible. Aside from the obvious reasons. Neo is going to need to be able to take care of himself so that we can deal with the backlash of finding the One."

"It might not be so bad. Most people will be happy."

"Happy or angry don't help me. Happy will be excited, intrusive. He's as anti-social as they come. He won't like being the center of attention. And angry? He'll be dealing with the backlash of the disbelievers of the world, pushing him down without knowing a goddamn thing about him. The only people who will actually help us are going to be the apathetic ones."

"Keep some faith, sister." Tank placed his hand on her arm. "We found the One. That's pretty damn amazing."

She shot him a smile before turning her attention back to Neo's brain scans.

Morpheus shook his head. "We really did it. Decades of searching and he's only feet away from us."

Trin ran her hand through her hair.

Morpheus, Tank... honestly everyone was so damned excited that they had found him.

And it wasn't that she wasn't.

Trinity could not deny the way her heart pounded just being feet away from him, nor the way her skin practically ached to be in contact with his, always. When he had been training with Apoc, she had to force herself to focus on the routine maintenance she had been working because all she wanted to do was go to him.

Even though she knew where he was, she had wanted to track him down and not let him walk from her sight.

What made it worse was that the feeling was mutual.

He didn't just cling to her because she was familiar. In a way, they all were to Neo.

It was so much deeper than that.

Neo had woken up without her just a day ago and had wrecked half of the medbay because she hadn't been there.

Through and through. Balls to bone.

Isn't that what the Oracle had said all those years ago?

She fought the urge to laugh. The Oracle certainly never mentioned anything like this.

"You okay, Trin?"

Tank and Morpheus both eyed her with the same look of concern. She offered a smile.

"Just thinking." Without any real explanation, Trin turned her attention back to the screen. "How much more does he have to go in this stack?"

"Maybe thirty minutes."

Trinity nodded. "All right. Once this stack is finished, he's taking a break. I don't care if he can handle more."

"You got it."

"I'll be back." And it took her more effort than she'd like to admit to not flat out run from the room and to her room. Their room.

She leaned against the door, letting out a long breath.

Overwhelmed, both by the fact that they had actually found him and by everything that Neo seemed to know, she crossed to the small sink. Turning the faucet, she splashed cold water onto her face.

Even leaving the Core to take five goddamn minutes to reassess had her on edge. It felt wrong.

She had lived without him for years and now leaving him under Tank's perfectly capable care had her ready to punch the glass in front of her.

Trinity turned the faucet off, leaning forward against the sink.

Did her heart always beat so heavily?

Her body quaked.

Neo knew her intimately. The books next to her bed. The ink on her body. Every single place where the smallest touch would have her gasping against him. It shouldn't be possible but there was no denying it.

Her chest felt tight, her head was pounding.

Ans his memories… What did he know? What had he seen?

Some of them were conflicting, it seemed, but they all focused on her.

The Oracle had said nothing about that.

Her breaths began to come faster and faster.

He loved her; he had said in his moments of clarity after arriving on the ship.

Did he? Or did he love a memory of her?

There was a loud creak and she wanted to push up and look behind her, but her muscles were frozen.

She inhaled through her nose, but each breath was still short.

There was a thud of the door closing and two arms wrapped around her from behind.

"It's all right," Neo whispered gently, pulling her back into his chest.

The world seemed to be slipping from her fingers but he was firm in his grip, holding her upright. He stepped back, nearly dragging her with him as he guided her back to the bed softly. "It's okay, Trin."

He sat down, pulling her to his lap. It took little effort. She fell back into him with ease even as her breathing continued to come in heavy pants.

With one hand, he held her steadily to him. With the other, he gently caressed her as he kept whispering sweet assurances. "You're safe. I'm here. I've got you."

His words and ministrations didn't stop. She tucked her head into the crevice of his neck and breathed in his scent. There was still the tinge of antiseptic but there was something rich and earthy underneath it. Warm and gentle and so utterly Neo.

She felt a kiss atop her head.

"I'm never letting go," he whispered and the doubt started to slip away at last.

Her breathing slowly came back down and she let out a long breath.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

She swallowed. Wasn't she supposed to be the one comforting him?

"I don't know." And Christ, had she ever sounded so weak and unsure? She was one breath away from a whimper. "It's so much."

His grip tightened and he held her closer. "I know, love. I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now."

"You feel what you feel, Trin. You don't need to feel anything."

"Not feeling isn't the problem," she said with a shake of her head. "I feel… so much right now. More than I ever have in my life and I don't know how to make sense of it." She sighed softly, leaning back to get a better view of the man who was undoubtedly the One. "Aren't you supposed to be finishing up the programs?"

Neo offered a small smile. "Asked Tank to take me out. Something felt off."

He wasn't talking about the program.

Trinity swallowed. "Hooked up to the Construct, you felt me having a panic attack?"

"I knew something was wrong," he said, his eyes staring at her with such concern and such adoration that it was hard to take in. "I didn't know what. Told Tank I wasn't feeling well"— thank god for small favors, she thought—"and came to find you."

Her lower lip quivered. Oh.

"I know…" Neo looked torn. "I know that this isn't easy for you. I… can't imagine what you are going through right now. And I'm not making it easy. Even now"—he sighed and shook his head ever so softly—"I'm not making this easy. If you want me to go, if you need space from me—"

"I don't." It came so quickly it surprised Trinity but it was true. "I don't want you to go. I don't want to be away from you. I don't want a moment to go by where I'm not touching you but"—she raked her hand through her hair harshly before continuing—"Jesus, I… I don't know you, Neo. But I do. And I need you and I don't know how that's possible." She looked into his eyes, the words spilling from her faster without leaving a moment to breathe. "I can't make sense of this. I don't know you, but you are so familiar to me. Every step away from you, even to let you train, makes my skin crawl but that shouldn't—"

Neo cupped the back of her head and brought his face to meet hers.

She kissed him back, lips slowing to allow for a hundred gentle but desperate kisses to pass. She angled her head, twisting in his arms to straddle his lap. Her hands traced up his torso, stopping only to cup his face.

Neo was hers.

"Why?" she asked, pulling back before placing another kiss on his lips, "Why does it feel like I'll die"—she pressed her forehead to his—"if you're taken from me?"

Neo shook his head softly enough so that she was undisturbed in their current position together. "I don't know. I wish I could give you the answers."

"You are mine," she breathed, the declaration like a prayer.

"I am." He tucked her hair back. "And you are mine."

"We don't even know each other," she whispered, "dreams and shadows aside."

"We'll learn," Neo promised, "but you cannot deny that this is more than just dreams and shadows." He pulled back and kissed her forehead. "It doesn't all need to make sense, Trin."

She offered a small smile. "Everyone is so excited about finding the One and all I want to do is lock you away so no one can touch you."

"Except you."

"Except me," she agreed, lightly stroking his face.

He kissed her nose and her lips once more. "I'm just saying, if you want to tie me to the bed and never let me up, I wouldn't be opposed."

She cracked a smile. "I'm sure you wouldn't."

With a gentle shove to the shoulders, she sent him down onto the bed. Neo grinned as his head hit the pillow.

"Finally going to have your wicked way with me?"

Trinity laughed, leaning down with him. "Shut up."

"Make me."

And she did. With a smile, leaning down to capture his lips. Soft and slow. There was no need to rush.

They had time.

The world could keep moving at the speed of light, but they didn't have to. Not when there were moments like this.

"Are we happy?" she asked, leaning against his chest.

Neo wrapped his arms around her and rolled her to her back, kissing her as he did.

"Deliriously."

She smiled and traced his brow with her finger, "Good."

Trinity pushed her hand around his head and wrapped her it around his neck, gently pulling him down to meet her in another kiss.

A sigh escaped her as their lips touched. Familiar and beautiful, he kissed her with a desperation that rocked Trinity to her core.

Years of waiting on her part and dreams on his, finally culminating in reality. How had she lived so long without this, without him? It was unfathomable.

Neo broke the kiss, only to hug her tighter.

"I'm sorry things are so confusing."

"It's not your fault."

"I know." He caressed her face. "I'm still sorry."

"We'll figure things out," she told him with a sense of renewed optimism.

Neo narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. For a minute, he stared at her. Then, he pushed up to a sitting position, taking Trinity with him.

"I want to do this right," Neo said. "I don't—I don't want things with us to be based on a dream-world."

"Okay." She wasn't entirely certain what that meant.

"I'd like to take you out on a date."

Trinity blinked. "We're on a hovercraft, Neo."

"A modified date then."

She wondered if her cheeks were flushed again. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I go hit the showers—"  She laughed at his candor, but Neo continued, "Then, we get takeout from the mess hall, and we just stay in tonight. And talk, just the two of us."

And it just wasn't fair, Trinity thought, how fucking perfect he was. He'd been taken from the Matrix, told his entire life was a lie, and his concern still lay with her. On making her feel good and safe.

Swallowing, Trinity nodded. "I think that sounds perfect."

"Okay," he agreed, leaning forward to kiss her. "I'll be back in twenty."

"I'll be here," she promised, and Neo rewarded her with a heart-stopping grin. Oh.

He recalled, without a problem, where the towels were kept and grabbed one. He walked over to the drawer which contained her yarn and trinkets and stopped himself before he opened it. He glanced back to her. "Where would I find fresh clothes?"

"Morpheus had planned on putting you in the room next to his. There should be spare clothes in there."

"Thanks, love." Neo bent down and kissed her head before he left to head to the washroom.

She wondered, when the door had closed behind him, if he noticed the endearment.

Trinity rose to her feet. While Neo showered, she'd get their dinner ready so neither of them had to go back out. Keep things simple that way. Luckily, she thought, nearly everyone else would have already eaten so the mess wouldn't be too crowded.

She slipped down the hall. Sure enough, only Tank was present when she walked in.

"Coming to join me?" he asked.

"Just grabbing dinner for me and Neo. We're going to eat in our room."

Our room. It slipped out before she had even stopped to think about it.

For the thirteen years she had been on the Neb, it had been her room. Her private space, where she could and did go to get away from everyone else when the world seemed to be too much to manage. She spent more time in that room than in her apartment in Zion, which Trinity supposed was also their apartment.

Why was it so easy to make that transition from me to us?

Tank grinned at her. "Oh really? Quiet night in, just the two of you?"

She really hated how much she was blushing these days. But, a part of her, the giddy and excited part, shrugged a shoulder.

"He says it's a modified date. Since we're on the Neb and can't really go anywhere."

She half-expected the Operator to make a joke but instead he just shook his head. "That's freaking adorable."

"I know!" She found two mugs and started to prepare their teas, adding, "It's almost… unnerving."

Tank stood up, walking with his bowl to stand at the little counter next to her. "Which part? Being treated like a princess? Or the fact we finally found the One and he is already completely and utterly whipped by you?"

Her lips twitched. "Ooh, I'm going to have to go with both."

"Fair enough. And for the record, since I know you've been waiting with bated breath, I approve."

"Oh, do you?"

"Hundred and ten percent, yes. I know he has memories of you, in some obscure way, but I like that he's still making an effort. It's like, he's the One—the guy who's going to save Zion and the world. And he is still living and breathing to make you happy."

He was that, Trinity thought. She could see it on his face, the way he lit up when she came into view. The way he always moved, however casually, closer to her.

It was more than familiarity. He was familiar with everyone on the crew, but he made her feel so damn special.

"It sounds unbelievable when you say it like that," she said as she grabbed a tray and started to fill two bowls.

"So absurd that it has to be real."

With a smile, she picked up the tray. "See you tomorrow."

"As your friend, have fun. As the guy who bunks in the room next to you, please don't have too much fun."

Trinity rolled her eyes. "Good night, Tank."

"Bet it will be."

She transitioned the tray to one hand and shot him her middle finger over her shoulder as she went back to their room.

Ships had been designed for utility, not for comfort. For that reason, Trinity knew that there wasn't much she could do to brighten the room up.

That said, she unlocked the little table from where it was strapped to the wall and moved it so that it was next to the bed. She quickly found a spare blanket and set it across the table as a makeshift cloth, before setting their dinners side by side.

She was nervous. Actually fucking nervous, which seemed almost silly to her.

Trinity rarely got nervous in the Matrix. And while fear occasionally bubbled up when they met a sentinel on a search and destroy mission, it felt far more justifiable than this.

Nervous over dinner.

A date, at that.

She ran a hand through her hair and wondered if there was anything else, she could do to make the room look… nice. Nicer, at least. There were candles on the Neb, but they were supposed to be saved in the event of an emergency or power loss. This was neither, but she wondered if she could get away with taking just one…

She was saved from having to make a decision when the door opened. Neo slipped back inside, dressed in a fresh set of slacks and a blue sweater. He'd found one with minimal wear and tear. It was well-fitted. He looked really good.

She wondered if she should have changed but the thought quickly vanished from her mind as Neo grinned at her.

"Looks great."

Trin found herself smiling back. "Making do on the Neb." Spying a bottle in his hand, she asked, "Is that Dozer's homebrew?"

Neo nodded. "Stopped by his room on the way over. It's no bottle of wine but it'll do."

Smirking, Trin added, "Just go easy. A sip of that can knock Mouse on his ass."

"Don't worry. I have no intentions of getting drunk. I just thought it might help us both to relax a bit."

He closed the space between them, setting the bottle on the table. In their small room, it didn't take much.

He caught her chin in his hand and angled her face up. She expected him to kiss her, but he didn't. Instead, Neo just seemed to be soaking in her sight.

It was only a bit disconcerting, but she still shivered under his gaze.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Neo…"

He really shouldn't be allowed to say things like that, she thought. It wasn't fair, the way he could make a statement and just demolish every single wall she had spent a lifetime carefully constructing.

"I still can't believe you're real," he admitted.

"Very real," Trinity promised.

Finally, he bowed his head, pressing his lips to hers.

They were still so soft and not used to the coldness on the Neb. Warm and assured, his kiss made her a little weak in the knees. Again, she had to remind herself that while Neo was familiar to her, he knew her completely. He knew her body intimately.

And that was an intimidating thought.

With a peck to her lips, Neo broke the kiss. He stroked her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hand, reaching for hers. He led her over to the bed, carefully sliding in so as not to disturb the table she had set up.

He waited for her to sit first. Despite their earliest encounters, in which Neo had thought himself dreaming, he was proving to be quite the gentleman. Which fit in with everything she had seen from him prior to meeting him.

In the Matrix, Neo had been such a gentle creature. It had really thrown her for a loop. Usually, when Morpheus found an individual he believed to be the One, they were characterized by blind ambition or strength.

For a while, Morpheus had even thought she could be the One.

The Oracle had shut that down fast with her revelation. She hadn't been disappointed to not be the One. Truthfully, she was grateful not to have the burden of all that placed on her own shoulders but then the Oracle had hit her with the rest.

Entwined with the One, bound to the One.

A thought that had been so much more frightening before she met Neo.

The moment they started watching him, she knew he was different than the usual potentials Morpheus chose. After just one night on duty, she realized very quickly that she would have to either lie to herself or accept that they had found the One.

Still, nothing could have prepared her for the night in the club.

Her world had spun on its axis exponentially faster and she no longer knew what direction she was going in. And she could not bring herself to care.

Neo opened Dozer's homebrew and poured a hearty shot into each of their teas.

He handed her the first mug as he set down the bottle. Then lifted his own.

"To what's real," he toasted, and she raised her cup, echoing his sentiment. They clinked their mugs together. She took a large gulp, feeling her nerves building.

Because now he was here. In her room. He was sleeping in her bed. Tangling his life with hers until she was no longer sure which strings belonged to him and which were hers.

Neo, on the other hand, seemed to be sipping at his beverage. Probably for the best. He had no tolerance to the heavy stuff yet.

She set her mug back down and caught Neo's eyes.

It really wasn't fair that he was so handsome.

"So, what were you up to while I was being put through basic training?" Neo handed her a bowl.

Trinity rolled her eyes. "Basic training?"

"Apoc is a drill sergeant."

She felt herself grin in response. "I'll be sure to pass on the message."

"Oh, please don't. I like being able to move my limbs." He took his own bowl and dramatically demonstrated being able to lift his spoon. Trinity found herself laughing in response, still in awe of the man in front of her.

"I was running repairs most of the morning," she answered after swallowing a bite. "Then I had to do some paperwork. Respond to a communication from Commander Lock."

Neo barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "What did Deadbolt want?"

Her lips twitched at the nickname used on a man Neo technically hadn't actually met yet. "Yesterday, I sent in the new red pill paperwork, which is standard for whenever we unplug anyone. Lock wanted to know why we pulled someone of your age out of the Matrix."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Half-truths. Agents were after you, limited time to make a decision, and we assessed that it was better for your safety to take you than to leave you in the Matrix. I'm sure by the time I check the communications tomorrow he'll have sent another message but there's nothing he can do about it."

"Quite literally too late," Neo agreed. "I'm not sure how much of what I know actually translates into this world, but I'll give you fair warning: Lock does not like me."

Trinity found herself unable to stop smiling as they conversed. "Lock doesn't like anybody."

"Which is perfect, because you won't find anybody who likes Lock." Neo paused. "Maybe I shouldn't pass judgement until I actually meet him in the real world. I mean, I technically have no real reason to hold as much animosity as I do for him."

"Sounds sweet," Trinity said. "I give you an hour in Zion before you change your mind."

Neo shrugged. "For Niobe's sake, I'll give him a chance." Then he paused and sighed. "It has occurred to me that I technically haven't met Niobe, either."

"No."

And fuck, it was confusing for her because he talked about all these people like he knew them. He had memories that weren't real, both from the Matrix and from his subconscious and Trinity wasn't sure if one was more valid than the next.

"It sounds like you're remembering more," she commented.

"Some things are still hazy," Neo admitted. "But the dreams are becoming a little bit clearer. Everything is."

"You were on a large dose of painkillers while we were working on you. It might have kept you a bit groggy."

Neo nodded. "Maybe. But I also think I'm just remembering more. Before… so much of what I dreamed almost seemed to disappear when I was waking. The dreams with you were easy to recall because I had them so many times that they became more habit than dream, but the other ones… it's like, the more time I spend with the crew, the more I'm remembering."

"It's a lot to process."

Again, he nodded. "But let's not talk about that. Why don't you tell me about being unplugged?"

"You don't already know?"

"Bits and pieces," he admitted. "Still, I'd like to hear you tell it."

"It was shortly after I hacked the IRS…"

"Which, if I haven't told you, is incredibly hot."

She shot him a half-hearted glare. "I was fifteen."

"To be fair, I was the same age at the time."

"But you hadn't picked up hacking yet."

"True." Although he was interested in computers, he hadn't been able to afford his own until college. "Why the IRS? I mean, at fifteen you weren't paying taxes."

Trinity shrugged a shoulder and set down her mostly eaten dinner back on the table. She leaned back scooting back across the bed until she hit the wall. "Because no one had done it before. Because I hated the government. Because… I was fifteen and stupid?"

"Clearly not stupid." Neo set his own bowl down before scooting back to sit next to her, against the wall.

She smiled at that. "I was impulsive. And I didn't fully think through the consequences of my actions. I was a freshman in high school by day and a top-10 FBI's most wanted cyber-terrorist by night. It was… a strange time."

Neo smiled softly back, the fondness in his eyes nearly made her lose her breath.

"I bet."

She looked down, unable to handle his gaze. It made her light-headed. "I, uh, I was walking home from the library one day, when a car pulled up next to me. Agents, although I didn't know what that meant, at the time. They told me I was under arrest and to get into the car and I made a break for it.

"At that point, Morpheus had been monitoring me for a couple months. He was reluctant to take me out because I had a good relationship with my family. Typically, he tried to only take kids who wouldn't be missed or people with fewer social ties.

"He had been debating whether to take me for a while but once the Agents targeted me, he made a snap decision. He was already in my city; his crew was taking out another potential."

"Ghost." Neo filled in the blank.

"Yes. He separated from his crew and went after me. I, quite literally, ran into him. It all happened very fast. He told me he could show me what was wrong with the world. That he could tell me what the Matrix was, once and for all, but that it wouldn't be easy. I would lose my life in the process. That if I went with him, I could never go home."

She hesitated. It had been a long time since she truly allowed herself to think back to her life before the Matrix.

Morpheus had been right. It hadn't been easy to walk away from her family without so much as a goodbye. To abandon the life she had carefully constructed, even as a teenager.

But Trinity had craved answers. She had wanted, more than anything, to fill the hole in her chest that consumed her.

Knowing about the Matrix hadn't done that. If anything, it just made the world feel colder. It made sense, of course. She had her answers, had a better understanding for the world around her.

And then the Oracle had called.

Normally, under usual circumstances, going to see the Oracle was a choice. Some people wanted insight or answers beyond what Morpheus or Zion could provide for them. They wanted clarity or reason or something to help them navigate their new world.

Trinity had been skeptical of the very idea of an all-seeing Oracle.

When Morpheus had told them, Ghost had been eager to see her and learn more. And Trinity had, politely, declined.

Before Ghost and Morpheus could even jack back into the Matrix, they received a message from one of the Oracle's priestesses.

A brief note, acknowledging Trinity's disbelief and reluctance, but asking, nonetheless, for her attendance for tea.

Fucking tea.

And while she had still been nervous, still unsure, Morpheus had pushed her.

"It's a great honor for the Oracle to request one's presence," he had told her.

So, she went.

For tea. And cookies. And a conversation with a grandmotherly woman who successfully fucked her up in a matter of minutes.

The result of which, Trinity realized, was now sitting in front of her.

"You must have been frightened."

"Terrified," she admitted, before realizing that Neo wasn't talking about the Oracle, but about taking the red pill. She thought back to the moment where Morpheus had held a pill on either outstretched hand.

Neo's hand found its way to her thigh, squeezing gently in support.

"I—I've never regretted my choice. But it was hard to leave my family. And I didn't have time to fully process what it would mean before I took the pill."

"You were fifteen," he reminded her. "It's hard to understand anything at fifteen." Neo stopped, his eyes widening a fraction almost in surprise. Trinity inclined her head, unsure what was going on in his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Fifteen," he repeated.

"Yeah?"

Neo swallowed. "Was it summer?"

"Yes." She narrowed her eyes.

"That was about the time that the dreams started."

Her own eyes widen, her lips parting. "O-oh."

"I… is that possible? No, no, that can't be right."

"Given the circumstances, I'm not sure I can classify this as coincidence or synchronicity."

He was silent, looking down, like he was trying to process it all.

Welcome to the club.

She wondered if she should resist the urge to close the space between them, to allow them each the space to process it all.

Fuck it, she decided instead.

Trinity rolled to her knees, following through before she could change her mind. She leaned forward, reaching for his face, angling his head up to kiss him.

She still didn't know what it all meant but she was certain that she felt more at home in his arms than she ever had in the Matrix, the Neb, or even Zion.

Neo's hand wound its way into her hair, cupping her head, as his other arm circled her. He pulled her closer and she found herself climbing onto his lap. He hummed his approval, the vibration of his lips making her nearly dizzy.

And it's like, all at once, the hole inside of her chest was gone.

"Trin…" he said her name in a desperate voice, kissing her again until they were both breathless.

He had been dreaming about her for fifteen years. It had never occurred to him that his dreams could be based in reality. That Trinity, his Trinity, was real.

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his.

"I'm so afraid," Neo whispered, "that every time I open my eyes, you're going to be gone. That this is just an elaborate dream or maybe I got hit by a car on my way home from work and this is just a coma."

"I'm here," she told him, squeezing harder. "You're awake and this is real."

"Can I… can I just hold you for a while? While we talk?"

She nodded, her lips twitching. Trinity slipped to the side so that she was sitting across his lap rather than straddling him. Neo rewrapped his arms around her as she settled, resting her head on his shoulder.

She placed a hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was strangely comforting "Tell me about when they started."

He slipped a hand under her shirt, feeling her skin. It wasn't sexual, she knew. It was meant to ground him the same way her hand over his heart was helping her remain steady.

"The first dream I remember was the club where we met. And I remember it feeling so surreal. I didn't understand half of the words I was saying but I remember you. You warned me that people were after me and told me that there were answers out there."

"You must have been confused."

Thinking back, he hadn't been confused. At fifteen, his first reaction to dreaming of a beautiful woman pressing against his body was to wake up with a physical reaction, which he had immediately taken care of.

He probably shouldn't comment on that.

"At first, I thought it was just a random dream. Collection of my subconscious and all that. But I kept having different dreams. Some in the Matrix, the others on the Neb, or in Zion. It was all too… detailed.

"I used to take the bus to one of the local colleges in high school to be able to use their computer. I'd try to find things about you, but after the IRS, it was like you were wiped from the map.

"But I found leads on the Matrix. Nothing I could access, but ghosts and whispers pointing me in the right direction."

Toward you.

His hand rubbed circles on her back as he continued. "It was too chaotic to make sense but there were too many coincidences to let it go. After a while, I thought I was going crazy."

She couldn't blame him. She'd think the same thing if their position was reversed.

"You really thought you were dreaming that night in the club."

Neo nodded. "I'd had that dream so many times before. It felt real, but it always felt real, you know? Like I was going through the motions of the dream, waiting to find out which version I was in for."

"Hence, propositioning me?" she teased.

Neo half-laughed, half-sighed. "Yeah, I did that, didn't I? I'm really sorry about that. I can't imagine how confusing that must have been for you."

"It was… unexpected to say the least. We weren't going in with the plan to unplug you that day."

"I'm glad you did."

"Me too." She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, snuggling into his embrace. "Even if I did catch a lot of shit for it."

"Did you?" He sounded almost amused.

"Are you kidding? I kissed you while you were still plugged into the Matrix."

"Twice."

She lifted her head off his shoulder to shoot him a look.

"Uh-huh. Even fucking Morpheus got in on teasing me."

Neo grinned all the more. "Yeah, well, I like it when you're flustered. And flushed." His hand cupped her cheek and, right on cue, felt her face heat up.

"You do seem to have that effect on me."

"And this is while I'm trying to be good." He leaned forward, bringing his cheek to hers to whisper in her ear. "Just imagine what it'll be like when I start to misbehave."

The teasing words sent a wave of warmth through her body faster and harder than Dozer's homebrew ever had. Oh, he should not be allowed to say things like that, she thought. And yet… a part of her was dying to know what he was like when he wasn't focused on being good.

She appreciated that he had slowed down, that he was truly trying to give up some of his control with what he knew by letting Trinity take control of the speed. But fuck…

The things he knew.

Part of her wanted to know it all and part of her wanted time to just stop so she could just lay down in his arms and not have to think about the rest. To ignore, just for a little while, that Neo was the One and that he was meant for great things. That the moment they left the safety of their bedroom, he would be forced to become a hero.

Neo kissed her cheek before he leaned back against the wall.

She didn't want to think about his mission or the expectations that were already starting to pile up on his shoulders. Instead, she wanted to just enjoy the night. His presence.

"Tell me about your life in the Matrix," she said.

And maybe, for a little while, they could leave the rest of the world behind.

He told her of his life. Of the job he hated and his nighttime activities. How he had to force himself not to spend every spare moment trying to sleep, to get back to her.

And, in turn, she told him about monitoring him. About sitting down at the computer, annoyed, at the start of her shift, only to leave at the end convinced that they had found him.

They talked until the ship went into its overnight stasis and the lights around them dimmed.

Trin caressed his face. "You look exhausted."

He shrugged it off. "I'm fine."

"You spent hours exerting yourself physically and mentally. Why don't you sleep?"

"Haven't I done enough of that?"

She read between his words, though she wasn't sure how she knew to. "I'll be here when you wake."

"I"—he hesitated—"can I stay?"

Her heart ached. It was his room, too. At least in his head, but he was still trying to give her space and control and everything else she might need to adjust and she adored him all the more for it.

She nodded and admitted, "I'd prefer it if you did."

Neo sighed, almost in relief.

She got up to move the table back to the wall, just in case any late-night sentinel activity forced the ship to jolt. Neo tugged back the covers as she did, climbing under and opening his arm for her to join him.

She slipped under, face to face, so she could see him. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Good night, Trin."

#the matrix #the matrix fanfiction #the Matrix has queue #the matrix fanfic #matrix fanfiction #neo x trinity #trinity (the matrix) #neo (the matrix)

[sparkie96]

Okay sooo this is obviously for if you feel like it/ if you have time, and I dont know if you take requests, but I think a highschool Chreon AU with a badass vendetta leon (who practices some form of gymnastics/acrobatics/jujitsu) would be lovely. You are a fantastic writer! Keep up the lords work ❤❤

(Not sure how to decipher this request so have some Chreon Gym Teachers AU, PS, I don’t know a lot about gymnastics.)

It wasn’t that Chris should have probably been paying attention to his own paperwork for his Health Class tomorrow, but he probably should have been actually doing his paperwork and not drooling over it. Nor should he have been watching his fellow gym teacher and coworker do his stretches and exercising while the gym was empty. 

It was after school, and the whole building was essentially empty at this time of night, which was rare for a winter day, considering how many sports and after-school activities usually took place. But, today, it was primarily due to the weather raging outside that had caused an early dismissal earlier in the day and the cancellations of clubs and activities. 

Chris had decided to stay after to work on some paperwork and assignments for his future health classes, but was currently distracted with Mr. Kennedy, his fiance who had decided to stay after work with him, but decided to occupy his boredom with the gym equipment. 

Which is why Chris was having such difficulty in completing the job he was trying to accomplish so they could go home, cuddle up with some hot cocoa and a hot dinner and watch the snow. 

He looked through the viewing window, watching as Leon stood on the balance beam, bending forward with two hands before grasping the bar. Long, lean legs kicked up, Chris watching anxiously but with a hint of excitement as Leon began walking on his hands. The man’s back bent backward, legs now arching slightly before planting themselves behind Leon’s head, the brunette using his core strength to bring himself back into an upright position. 

Chris watched as the brunette did it again, but going slightly faster, doing whole flips now. Chris often wondered how his beautiful fiance was able to achieve such impossible feats without slipping or falling off the balance beam, but then he reminded himself of the medals, pictures, and even the sparkly unitards that were sitting in storage in their basement. Right next to all of Leon’s Jiu Jitsu stuff. 

That had been a long time ago, though, Leon preferring to sometimes forget about all of that due to his parents’ deaths. Though, there were times like this that gymnastics and shadow sparring/practice would put Leon in a jovial mood while also occupying his boredom and just...clear his head for a while. 

And Chris would be lying if he said that he didn’t genuinely enjoy watching Leon practice. Seeing the younger happy made Chris happy. 

Though it was definitely a wonder how Leon had managed to achieve some awesome feats in jeans and a t-shirt. He had taken his boots off and was still in his socks, and Chris was surprised he hadn’t slipped, but at the same time, he really wasn’t. Leon held all the skill and grace of an Olympian Gymnast and had been training his whole life up until his parents had died. He had been so devastated that he let the opportunity to go further pass him by. It was honestly heartbreaking. 

But, Leon decided to focus his energy on helping others, becoming a Gym Teacher at Raccoon City High School and doing work during the summer at a gymnastics studio. He also would occasionally accompany his students at said studio for the Summer Gymnastics Competitions, having coached many talented kids. 

And although he and Chris had worked at the same school for many years, Chris had “officially” met him at a Competition one summer. He had originally been there to support Jill and Carlos’s little girl, who was in one of the Junior Olympics Competitions. Leon had been her coach, whom both Jill and Josy praised, Josy saying that Leon was her favorite teacher. Carlos just laughed, saying that he didn’t know the guy personally, but Jill and Josy seemed to like him. Josy had been the one to introduce them. 

Chris had treated his “niece” to ice cream, and even invited the coach to come with them. Chris had spent time with Leon even after Jill, Josy and Carlos had gone home. It had also been Leon who suggested going on a second date, Leon inviting Chris to go see this movie he had been contemplating seeing for a while, picking up pizza beforehand. Of course, Chris accepted, and then from there on out, they had dated and then eventually Leon had proposed on their “Fourth Anniversary, the two going on a trip to the mountains and staying at Chris’s friend’s cabin. 

It warmed Chris’s heart thinking about it, again, not focusing on his work like he was supposed to. 

“Hey, Big Guy!” Leon called up, now standing on his hands and walking across the balance beam, his legs stretched out and lifted slightly so he could waddle across, “You almost done up there?” 

Chris righted himself, clearing his throat before pressing the button on the intercom, “Uh, yeah!” He lied with a chuckle, “I’m halfway through!” 

“Really?” Leon asked, legs, moving back up into the air and then doing another backbend before standing upright once more, standing on tiptoes, “Cause it looked like you were gawking at me again.” 

“I was not!” Chris protested, making the younger laugh, “I was...well…”

“It’s alright,” Leon laughed, “Why don’t you just call it a day? It’s not like we’re gonna have school tomorrow anyway and then it’s the weekend.” 

Chris sighed, scratching the back of his neck before giving a nod of agreement. He packed up his paperwork and put it in a manila folder and then put it inside of his messenger bag. He looked up and saw Leon now stretching out his limbs before bending over to grab his boots. Once Chris met him down on ground level, Leon had Chris’s sweatshirt on underneath his leather jacket, adjusting his beanie as they stood by the backdoor to the faculty parking lot. 

“So,” Leon asked, pushing open the door and holding it open for Chris, “Whatcha making me?” 

Chris chuckled, pulling his jacket closer before pulling Leon along with an arm around the shorter man’s waist. The two of them talked about dinner possibilities while making their way to Chris’s truck. The snow dancing around them as the streetlights lit their way. 

#Early WIP Wednesday #Chreon #Kennfield #Leon S. Kennedy #Chris Redfield #Teacher AU #Send Me Asks

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 15: Aaron*

After Roger*, I don’t completely leave the app game, but I don’t go on any dates. I talk to a couple guys for a short bit, but nothing really sticks. One guy is kind of creepy, and even drops the “love” bomb on me, and I straight up yikes him. 

I knew when I matched with Aaron* and saw “Conservative” listed on his Bumble profile, that it was not going to work out. However, I was still coming off my fucking with people state, despite this now being the end of June, almost a month after my last date, that had been with Roger*. However, he is a nice looking, all-American looking man. Blonde hair, blue eyes, decently tall, fit but not overly buff, also does jiu-jitsu, so I say fuck it let’s see what happens. 

I even started my first message to him about this: “oh shoot you’re conservative” he asks if that is a problem, which I respond with “depends.” He asks what it depends on, and I say “if you own a maga hat.” He comes back with “Am I in more trouble if I own 2?”

Why would a person need two MAGA hats? I don’t know. This is something I will never know, and I’m okay with that information. He jokes about us both being able to wear one. I say definitely not. He asks why. I explain my DJT sentiments, “He’s constantly running his mouth when he shouldn’t/he has no chill. He’s terrible to women. His interests are biased to benefit businesses/his rich buddies and not the people.” 

Expecting him to debate with me with some bullshit, instead, he says I have fair criticism and agrees with my first point. We talk more politics, I say the party system itself sucks, which he admits he thinks we are closer politically than he thought. He purposely changes the subject, with the all wonderful “what are you looking for on here?” question. Blah blah blah.

He said he says I have a good plan and he “matched with [me] cause [I’m] cute and seemed like [I’d] be fun to play some vidya with.” We then talk games and systems for a bit. He asks me for my Snapchat username, then our conversations continue strictly on there for the foreseeable future. He mentions something about feeding his dogs raw chicken, and due to my job working in veterinary medicine, I let him know that isn’t a good idea. He tries to mansplain me, and I clap back, saying that whereas raw red meat is fine for them, raw chicken isn’t and I’ve seen a lot of dogs get sick. He thanks me for the information and drops it. I respect how he backs off and listens.

We set up a date for a Wednesday, but then the day of, I get some news that my coworker I work closely with at one of my jobs, may have contracted coronavirus. I let him know that I don’t want to risk it, just in case I may have gotten it. Instead, I suggest we do a video chat instead. 

Video chat actually ends up being pretty fun and is a nice way to get to know each other without going out out. He has two dogs and I get to see them. He mentions that he played World of Warcraft and I’m surprised. He looks more like a pretty boy type and not nerdy like that, despite us talking about other video games previously. I then suggest we play some video games together for the rest of the night. We even add each other on discord/Battlenet (Blizzard Games) and play Heroes of the Storms together. He and I actually work very well as a team and opt to play a character together which requires complete teamwork as you share a body with different powers. It’s a difficult character to play, so normally I don’t play it, even with my friends. This gives me a glimmer of, hey maybe I could make this work: naive. 

I decide one day I should ask some non-superficial questions to get to know if the MAGA thing is something I can ignore for better qualities. I ask him about his goals and his future.

He mentions he wants to own a lot of land and grow his own food, have some cows. So basically he wants to be a farmer? Definitely not a life I could see myself in. I mention as well that my future doesn’t involve kids. He says he definitely would want to have kids. 

I ask him why he feels the need to have children. He simply says, “Idk it’s just what you do.” TO which, I intelligently let him know, “just because it’s what you do, doesn’t mean it’s what YOU do.” Essentially, fuck societal rules, live your life as your own. He sticks to his guns, which are his rights. I kinda just remove myself from the conversation as it doesn’t go anywhere. 

At the same time, I’m also chatting with another guy. This guy is way more compatible personality-wise, but he isn’t really physically attractive to me. I feel bad as I am practically stringing him along. I even had a video chat date with him around the same time as Aaron*, but whereas he is nice, I don’t see him as a romantic prospect, which makes me more confused. 

Despite our conversation that would seem like an end-all for the relationship continuing, Aaron* continues to send me Snapchats, which are nice eye candy. He goes to the gym and would send me pictures of him in the sauna, ie shirtless pictures. He asks me out again, and I confirm that he is still interested. He asks fairly if he has indicated in any way that he was no longer interested. Also adds he wants to see where things go and at least give it a shot and is willing to risk the possibility of my coronavirus exposure. Fair enough. 

We reschedule essentially the date we were gonna have earlier that week, going to the same Greek restaurant. I get there first and wait in my car. Somehow I am not paying attention when he arrives, and he says he is there but doesn’t see me inside. So I walk up to him in the restaurant and give him a hug. He is the only one there, so it is easy to spot him. We share a platter of hummus and veggies, just talk, and have a good time. I get a sense, as I did during the video chat as well, that he is more introverted than I am and on the quieter side. The restaurant is closing for the day, and we are done eating, so we head out. Walking to our cars, he asks if I wanna come over and meet his dogs since he lives ten minutes away. I agree. 

I half follow google maps with the address he gives me, half just follow him. Jokingly when we arrive and we start to walk in, I ask him if he’s going to murder me. He laughs and says no. As I add “not this time at least.” 

I get to meet his dogs, one is definitely a wild child. We play Super Smash Bros on his Switch, and after only winning one round and getting obliterated otherwise, I ask if we can play something more co-op. We bring out Mario Party but are kind of confused about how anything works. Instead, we opt to just watch a movie instead. We cuddle and watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

At the end of the movie, it is late and I say that I’m gonna head out. He walks me to our car and we kiss goodnight a couple of times. Unfortunately for me, I was happy to kiss him goodnight. I do ask him that he actually give me his number, though he had given me a similar story like Darren*, saying his service isn’t good and he chats primarily via Snapchat. 

We talk some more and set up another date. I invite him over for dinner. When he arrives he tries to kiss me at his car side when I greet him which catches me off guard. I’m not huge into PDA so I don’t really know what to do. He seems fine when I instead give him a kiss hello when we get inside. I make the food and all seems good. He gets along with my dog very well and they’re having fun. We eat our food then decide to go to the couch to watch a movie. We settle on Toy Story 4 as I determine that he should see it since he hasn’t. During the movie, he initiates kissing a few times. At some point though, it gets a little more heated as kissing becomes a true makeout session, and he lays me down on the couch. His kisses are a little more hungry, and honestly, I’m not super into his style and feel more like I’m just kind of there. I stop him and say “can w talk about something really quick?” I can tell that he is trying to lead up to things, and given the fact that we are on very different paths for the future, though it would be a good time to discuss where we are at. I pause the movie officially. I say I like him and ask him what his realistic expectations for us would be. He says that given our opposite feelings towards children, that “well we wouldn’t get married, but I definitely want whatever is the next step under that. Until I’m ready for something more serious with a person that would want kids” I simply respond that I am looking for something that would be potentially more serious, and don’t think we want the same things. I make a joke about him not wanting to get married, and that I already have the venue picked out, Sabrina has a flower girl dress, etc. Just to lighten the mood. He laughs and we continue watching the movies.

At the end of the movie he again initiates kissing me. I’m confused, I thought we had essentially ended whatever was going on via our conversation. He then just asks me, “hey would you want to fool around a little before I leave?” Again, given the conversation we had just had, I don’t think this man really understands where I am at. “No, I don’t really wanna do that now,” I say to him. We watch some short skits and then I say it’s probably time for him to go. I ask that he lets me know when he gets back home. 

We video game together a couple more times, he sends me more shirtless pics, I just kind of ignore him/don’t respond as much, as especially after his reaction of trying to sleep with me, I am officially no longer interested.

We went from #1 best Snapchat friends with a 12-day streak to nada, but oh well. He still looks at my stories sometimes but never initiates contact. I wish him the best and hope he gets what he wants.

#bumble #tampabay #dating #tampa #stpete #clearwater #florida

[danielletinybruiser]

On Competing as a blue belt

Last week -- exactly a week ago, I’ve made myself ruminate for a few days before posting -- I competed at Grappling Industries Manhattan. It was first time at GI at blue, though in December, I did my first blue belt tournament. Most of this, I wrote a week ago, but I have a few other conclusions here that I’ve added. Here goes!

January 18 2020

I competed today for the second time at blue belt (I did a sub only in December where I lost all my matches but got a bronze and a silver, but, since precisely none of them were in my weight class, I wasn’t mad about it).

Today was the toughest mentally. Out of my now-6 tournaments, I’ve never been this crushed and had to come from as far behind. I had a good warmup and went into gi feeling nervous -- the masters (30+) division disappeared and I was in the open division with teens and tough high level competitors that I suspect are being groomed for better things. Well I fucking sucked. I have no confidence in the gi, which doesn’t help, but I’ve been training it more lately, about 3 days per week out of 5-6 training days (I cross train on any days I don’t train BJJ). The last match was at least a little better and I got a couple of takedowns, but lesson number one today is:

I NEED TO TRAIN GI GRIPS

At this level and in my size (and 135 was a pretty good size today btw, most women were bigger/taller but I didn’t feel any weaker tbh) women in gi are technical. They pull guard and have game plans that start there. I have no answers for grips, even when I get into decent positions, I don’t control them because I just have such a completely no gi mindset. 

I want to move fast, I want to do wrestling-y smash passes and work a top game and get to the back. And I even like playing guard from the bottom and searching for fun triangles and sweeps - but quickly. No friction! What’s this controlling grips shit?? It’s boring and hurts my shitty wrists and I hate it.

That needs to change. I need to work with technical gi training partners who can just give me drills and baby level stuff to start with, and drill that every day.

Because it’s a massive, massive deficit and also affects my confidence. I feel like a fucking stooge walking into other gyms as a blue belt with NO grip knowledge and no ability to control positions. I feel like a week 1 white belt, and I’ve been training fairly solidly for three years now. Yes, there were a couple of months off for injury. And yes, I know that I work full time (and part time on top of that, with a volunteer gig as an EMT on top of THAT). I am 100% not trying to be great. I’m not trying to beat people who train three times a day. I just want to feel like a solid blue belt with at least some technique no matter what division I enter.

Today was the worst I’ve ever felt in this sport. I’ve never been so demoralized. But thankfully, I was able to do a little reset. I took a nap, I warmed up again, and I went into no gi much more confident.

I did better there. I won a match by submission, got a draw in another (it was a loss due to ref’s decision, but I’m happy with how I did there), and fought hard and for much longer than I could against a really intense and skilled competitor. I got takedowns, I got good positions, hey, I got an RNC with one arm.

I feel so much better there. I feel like I’m developing and improving at an ok pace in no-gi. In gi, believe it it not I know I’ve actually improved, just... I’m not nearly on the level of my competitors. There’s a huge hole.

And I want to fix it. Badly.

Grips! Grip breaks! Grips for positions! I want to train them, drill them, roll with them until they make as much sense to me as my other stuff does.

And none of this comes from me thinking I’m hot shit. I don’t think I’m great or good or even halfway decent. I just want to improve. To get better and learn to relax, roll confidently, and be open to learning from each roll. To really, deeply learn. I am getting in the way if that in that damned Cotton jacket - and that stops now.

What went right - I proved in no gi at least, that I don’t lack the cardio or speed or strength to compete with young adults and lol teens. I feel just as athletic and at least in no gi, my skills are getting somewhere.

It feels good to see that progress. My standup is still not great, but improving. I’m having some success with takedowns and just generally feeling confident enough to shoot.

And here’s a thing...

I’m proud of myself for being able to rally after gi. I felt BAD. I was ready to quit jiu jitsu for a few minutes there. Just near tears, heartbroken at spending so much time and still sucking so much... Truly demoralized. But I’m glad I was able to compose myself and come back and at least show a bit of improvement.

In the week since, I’ve been training in the gi and bringing a gi jacket to practice grips in even for no-gi sessions, to practice after class. I’m making myself at least learn a few useful grip breaks and grips for standup. I’m really trying to focus on better control and focus my weight in the right places for passing. I’m training as smart as I can, and learning more guard breaking - as a result as well of my coaches seeing what went well in competition and where we need to work harder, as a school.

I’m going to turn 36 really soon. Just about three weeks from now. I’d love to keep competing often, even with an utterly atrocious win-loss record at grappling industries (I’m not going to hide it, it’s like 6-27 right now) and a bad wrist and all that bullshit. Because when I’m at least winning a little and forcing draws, and making demonstrable improvements, I love competition. I don’t need to medal every time (though yeah, I would VERY MUCH like to get back to winning medals again, lol, that feels nice!)

I’m going to work my tiny ass off until we see the next round of improvements. For the second half of my thirties, let’s let this be a good, solid, FUN, and useful time as an athlete.

#bjj #bjjwomen #combatsports

[itmeansfreeman]

23 and me

Well! I already have a smile on my face. It’s my last days being this young, very young, twenty-three. The youngest I’ll ever be.

It’s 9-something PM, I think. I’m not even looking at the clock. I just know I’m fresh out of the shower with clean, cold, wet hair down my back. Sitting here in this silky black nightgown that used to be Moriah’s-- that is way too big for me because I don’t have the boobs to fill it out the way she did-- but that still makes me feel sexy every time. Sexy, not in the sense that I’m not seducing someone, but in the sense that I simply feel like a woman, just the way I am. Which is important to me after looking down at my chest a few times this year and contemplating how they’d look with implants.

I stopped by the liquor store before coming home to shower. The first liquor store was closed. I thought maybe it was a sign that I shouldn’t be having a glass of wine while I write tonight. Maybe I should get kombucha instead, being that it sometimes makes me feel tipsy anyways? But no, I looked up a second liquor store that was open, and made an intentional 8-minute drive there to pick up wine. I wanted wine for one main reason: I wanted to keep myself honest as I wrote this. But the second reason was to feel “my age” and “YOLO” to enjoying a glass alone tonight.

I picked up two bottles, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, because I couldn’t remember which one I like better. I found that this was the perfect opportunity to find out which wine I preferred by the time I turn age 24, damn it. So I begin YOLO writing with a 5-oz pour of Merlot. Measured meticulously on a food scale and logged into my FitBit food diary. I guess I can’t escape all my weird ways. And maybe I just don’t want to... I don’t need to.

Recently I’ve been wishing for myself that I’d live a life whose own biography I would want to read. That didn’t mean a successful life (whatever that means) or even a happy life, necessarily. I think it really just means a life pressed in. And all that means, according to Jinnie, is focused. Twenty-three has been the best year of my life. I have been focused. I didn’t go through things that I wanted to go through or would have chosen to go through, but when I did go through them, I went through them with focus. I have been pressed indeed and I want to let the blood of it dry and preserve as these words.

During twenty-three, I started my first corporate job and took all four parts of the CPA exams. Passed one. The most beautiful relationship I’ve ever had the honor of being in came to a swift end. I stood up and chose my faith in times where it meant that I’d lose some things I cherish, namely, Brian. I also let myself be human in the face of faith, and deliberately chose sin and indulgence. I became in the best of shape of my life. I finally pulled the trigger on wanting to learn mixed martial arts. I also pulled the trigger on saying enough to that very first corporate job that I started and screw it to the CPAs too. I used pantiliners every day (how did I ever go without?). I let myself experience myself. 

There’s about 1 oz of Merlot left in my glass. I like it.

Now the question is, how to break up this entry?

Brian Kim

I’ve always been attracted to older men. Daddy issues or not, it’s just the way it’s been. I surprised myself for being able to fall in love with somebody my age. I was surprised to have looked up to somebody my age, the way I had with Brian. Though I don’t hold that same sentiment towards him now, I was surprised that I ever did-- and very genuinely I did.

Time to try to the Cab.

I am a hundred times grateful that this relationship ever happened. I am forever thankful to God. I’m thankful I got to find out just what I needed and didn’t need. I think a lot of people say that when coming out of a relationship, but those things are all very private and true. I was really thankful to find out that God had made me a stronger woman than I believed I was. I was astonished to find that that weren’t many tears that I thought were worthy to cry after it all ended. I was astonished to find that I was able to fall asleep, just like a baby, every night. Before our break-up, when I felt it coming, I mostly feared that my post break-up experience would be like that of Joe, my ex in college, who I literally lost my shit over. All. My shit. But this time, wow. I was, and still am, surprised.

I like Merlot better. Carol, on the cusp of 24, realizes that Merlot is the red she prefers. Is it “good” Merlot? I don’t know, and I’m happy that I don’t know the difference.

When we said goodbye to our love at Blaze Pizza, sitting in that back booth, I will never forget the peace and gratitude in my heart. Precisely to God who saw all my tears months prior to the relationship ending. The one to whom I prayed that prayer on a night in October 2017 with my forehead surrendered to a rug-- that I would not be the one to leave this relationship, but if it so is Your will, make him break up with me. And he did. Those words. “A relationship is just not what I need right now.” An immediate warmth in my heart, I looked up at You. And I felt you wink at me, and lovingly hush my heart that would have otherwise skipped a beat. But I remember it. It didn’t even skip a beat. I remember my inner person smiling when Brian said that. I remember nodding my head at him. I remember that this was something worth losing. That I could not, and would not, beg for a human’s love. And that I was finally happy to let him go. This friend that I had gotten to know so intimately for over two years, I was happy to let him go. I wished to see him smile again, the way a friend would want to see a friend laugh and smile. I think that was what really made me want him to break up with me. I knew I wouldn’t do, but I wanted to see him smile.

I drove home that night calling Pastor Julie. “We’re over,” I laughed with a big grin and tear droplets truly as big as marbles rolling off my face. I came home to my mom sitting on the family room couch. I put my bag on the floor, sat close next to her, held her hands and in Korean said “We broke up. I might be sad sometimes, but I am happy. I am happy this happened, but please don’t worry about me when I’m sad.”

I cannot say that today, I look at Brian with the same kind of love in my heart the way I did that night in March when we broke up. I cannot say that I do not resent the way he made me feel utterly foolish a few months later at Monica and Leo’s wedding when, I will not say what, but only that he truly made me feel stepped on. The way friends wouldn’t even make friends feel. However, when I look back at our relationship, I can only feel pure gratitude. When I see videos of us and friends, my heart gets cheerful. And I am thankful that God would protect these memories in such a way that I could still smile about it. To be clear, I would never choose this person again. Not in a million lifetimes. But I am happy to, at one point in my life, have chosen this person.

Dan Ahn

Dan, one of the most influential people to me this year, from near and far. He is one who I think is truly living a happier life in reality than on social media platforms. I think his instagram doesn’t do his life justice, and that’s rare for our generation. With myself and I think the rest of us, Instagram is the inflated, happier version... and our lives simply don’t match up.

Dan connected me to a guy named James who opened a cafe called Fahrenheit 180 in El Paso, TX. After speaking to James on the phone, who had abandoned his opportunities at Wall Street to open a cafe, I decided I needed to pursue my cafe dream and forget about the CPAs. The CPA was a goal, I was beginning to realize, that I was never meant to achieve.

The day before Dan left for his bike-across-America trip, we met at Stuff Yer Face, where he confessed to me that it did make him quite nervous that I’d made such a decision to quit my CPAs and begin working on my business after I had a conversation with the dude he linked me up with. I’ll recall more of how I arrived to this decision later, but I hope Dan knows that he’s not responsible for my actions.

No one will ever be responsible for my actions. And furthermore, this year I learned that all people, no matter their brilliance or track record, are just people with opinions from their experiences. I’ve talked to so many businesspeople this year about cafes, discussing their big wins and shameful failures. They offer convincing advice. But at the end of the day, it’s my choice to give weight to a person’s message. It’s my choice in how much I’m going to believe them.

Jeff from Kudo Society, said to me, “Be decisive. You can make up for your mistakes later. But more costly than mistakes is not being decisive.” So watching Dan and speaking to James, I have decided to be decisive. I will not be an accountant.

Listening to Her

After the breakup, I got to ask this girl, myself, what she wanted to do. She wanted a dog of course. A warm, happy Golden. But more realistically, I wanted to learn Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Something that I had yearned to practice deep inside ever since Julius and I rolled as kids. I never tried it earlier because of the money. Then I had the money, but not the time. But suddenly I was a working woman and single. I had both the money and time. So there I found myself on Google at work, searching MMA gyms around me.

I visited three: Driven Gym, Diesel, and Fight & Fitness, before I ultimately chose Fight & Fitness. What a perfectly hand picked place from God Him-very-self. Not necessarily for the training style, but for the people. Oh dear God, the people. Thank you God.

I think I ended up liking Muay Thai better than BJJ. I’ve been going to Muay Thai classes twice as often as BJJ. I honestly think that it’s because the punching, kneeing, and kicking is so much more releasing than strategically finding ways to strangle someone. But also, the eye candy is a little better in Muay Thai.

To that point, do I want to date? Hell to the no. I hate to say it because it makes me feel weak when I just said above how I was surprised to find how strong I am. But I think I am pretty scarred from my relationship and from learning about men, in general. I’m not sure that I really ever want to get married, and it doesn’t make me feel sad to think or say that. I’m truly at a place of so much freedom to not need the thought of ending up with a partner to make my life feel complete. My workplace has people cheating on their spouses with one another. Men who are now married, and even with children, are flirting with me and asking me on dates. My close male coworker, who is recently married and also a new father, told me that “Men are as faithful as their options-- including myself.”

I ponder what a sacred thing marriage is. My girlfriend said that over a decade later, her mom still thinks longingly over her ex-husband. “I don’t think you can really get over a failed marriage. Especially someone you have children with.” I wonder if it’s better to abstain from marriage if the divorce rate is so high.

Divorce lawyer and author of If You’re In My Office, It’s Already Too Late, James Sexton, says that Americans do more car research than research on marriage. If he were to tell someone that there’s over a 50% chance that they’ll get hit by a car when they walk across the street, most people wouldn't even take the chance. They’d stay inside. And if they did go to cross the street, they’d at least wear a helmet. His point was that divorce rates are higher than 50% and people don’t even inquire of what they should be prepared for in marriage. They just walk into it hoping that they will beat the odds and won’t get hit with divorce someday, like getting hit by a car. It leaves me wondering if it’s better that I don’t get married at all. And I’m okay with that. I’m satisfied enough-- or scared enough-- to be okay with that.

This is not to say I don’t believe in love. For the people who have found true, vibrating, deep, knowing love-- I celebrate that love. It truly ignites my heart on fire and I cheer always for you. I know it exists. I know that it is possible.

After Brian and I broke up, I heard that someone had told another friend of mine, “I don’t believe in love. If Brian and Carol broke up, there’s no hope for any of us.” But I do. I still believe in love. I still believe in lasting, sacred marriage. It is simply for those who, with all their might, will dedicate themselves to it. I personally don’t know if it’s for me, but I see other people that have it written in their DNAs and whose love I believe in.

Anyways, both Muay Thai and BJJ have been a wonderful sport for me. I remember one night, my head was being squeezed in between someone’s legs and my face was nuzzled in their crotch. We froze in this twisted contortion while our instructor critiqued our position. “Only in MMA would it be totally normal for my face to be held against a stranger’s crotch as someone teaches them how to do it better” I thought. MMA is a weird place for weird people, and I love it.

I heard the guys talking in the men’s locker room, “When it comes being a fighter, you need to have somewhat of an ego. But not in jiu jitsu. All of that goes out the door. You never know what’s gonna happen. Some days you just get fucked up and tossed around. And you just gotta let yourself be humbled.” I don’t know why that stuck with me the way it did when I heard it through the thin walls while changing alone in the girl’s locker room. But I just remember knowing that it was true not only on the mats, but in the fight of life. Sometimes, no matter how much you’ve trained, you will still get humbled by a force from left-field. A force you can’t control, anticipate, or mitigate.

Tim Ferriss

I just finished the 5-oz of Cab. It was definitely Merlot that I enjoyed better. 5 more ounces of Merlot, coming up. This is 360 calories so far, FYI.

Well, soon after I had turned twenty-three, I read the 4-Hour Work Week by Tim Ferris. There’s a concept called “batching” that he teaches on. Basically, the idea is that we can save a whole lot of time if we simply batch tasks together instead of doing them continually throughout the day. We batch our laundry and wait for it to build up to the top of the basket, sometimes overflowing, before actually throwing it in the washing machine. We ought to do that with our e-mails. We ought to do that with a lot of things instead of letting them seem like productive tasks to tackle throughout the day, which actually do the opposite and steal productivity from the very things we wish to accomplish.

After reading about it, I put it to the test. I batched my tasks. I got off of social media. And suddenly, what I had was a whole lot of time. A whole sack of available time just looking me in the eye. All the clocks in the world were slow. All these months and even years, I’d been saying that I was going to get working on my coffee shop once I got the time-- but right now, “I was too busy.” Man. The batching did away with all my bullshit. I saw all that time right before me. And to my utter horror, I was choosing to not work on my cafe. I was paralyzed. Must I now face the very thing that I have said was my dream? Where are my excuses? What if I fail?

So I bought books on coffee shops. I listened to podcasts on business. I made phone calls to entrepreneurs to inquire and learn. I bought a 4” binder to collect all my data. A four-inch binder. I’ve never even bought such a binder for all my years of school. Then I stumbled across Babes in Business NJ, a group of female entrepreneurs who champion each other in their business pursuits. So I said to myself that I’m going to their next event. I’m going to get out of my comfort zone and launch myself in. When I went to this event, I learned about myself through the panel of speakers that I was yet again making excuses that I must acquire enough research before beginning to attempt this business. As if the 4” binder must be packed with paper before I’m qualified to try. The human brain is crazy with its excuses.

So I said I’m not going to let my life be ruled by excuses anymore.

1465 Irving St. Rahway, NJ.

It was the first location that I seriously looked at and considered to become the cafe. It was the beautiful and airy vacant spot across the street from the train station with exposed white brick walls. That location convinced me enough that I would stand with my neon green clipboard on the corner of Irving & East Cherry on a Friday morning to host market surveys with pedestrians. A spot so sparkly that I woke up early in the mornings to drive to it and tally all the foot-bike-and-car traffic from 6 AM to 8:50 AM, leaving me just enough time to get to work by 9. To be hanging around the spot long enough to where two different cops asked me what I was doing. I told one of them that I was looking to open a coffee shop at this site, as I pointed behind me. He gave me a thumbs up and said “Good for you, dear!” and drove on.

I got involved in a small downtown city with new strangers the way I never imagined I could. I went to Chamber of Commerce meetings. I had drinks with locals. I sat with city officials in their office to discuss planning and zoning. I got into the cars of strangers. I collected business cards by the handfuls. I researched with joy and madness. I thought this was it. E-mails and phone calls filled my days and nights.

Whenever there was news about potential competition in the area, I remembered what Karl, my accounting friend from college, said to me. “Good. Competition is good. It leaves no room for complacency.” That was right. I feared no competition. I would do it better. I would always improve and serve people the best coffee that was around.

The guy who owns The Coffee Box in Plainfield, Jeff, also was looking at 1465 Irving St. He knew that there was another person looking at the same spot for the same coffee shop purpose-- which was secretly me. He eventually ended up leasing the spot less than 24 hours before I was scheduled to go to the spot with an architect. We were both racing against time and against one another. I remember a couple weeks earlier, going to his coffee shop incognito to see what kind of place he runs anyways. I was disappointed to find out that he does an intimidatingly excellent job. The day that I visited, I was just an ordinary, unrecognizable, customer. But he was so damn friendly to me that I hated it. I had asked him if The Coffee Box was their only location, to which he responded, “We’re looking at a second spot in Rahway.” It was the spot I was looking at. “Aw best of luck,” I smiled. He did indeed catch that luck.

Though I know it wasn’t luck. It was favor. Not favor on him, but favor on me-- that it didn’t work out for me. There was Jesse, the owner of The Irving Inn, a restaurant next to 1465 Irving. He was 1461 Irving. A charming restaurant. Jesse’s a white man in his early 40’s who I became friends with during this research period. He took me to Restaurant Depot and to other coffee shops like The Coffee Mill. He gave me advice. I used to think “Wow, he must really believe in my dream to give me so much of his time to help me.” Then there was a drive home one day from his restaurant when I said out loud behind the steering wheel, “Don’t be so stupid, Carol. He has other intentions.” He ended up confessing his crush on me and asking me if he can take me out. Although that ended there, he confessed another thing: that it was good that the spot didn’t work out for me. “The rent was much too high, especially for someone like you who doesn’t have coffee experience.” Though it hurt, I knew that he was right. It was time for me to learn coffee. So I went home, took a long shower, and went online to apply to coffee shops.

Chris Brown

I have to write about this new friend Christian.

But first, I have to ask. Do you ever wonder how things happen in such a timely manner that you cannot help but believe that someone is handing you the pieces in that particular order? It’s like you were given all the pieces to build an IKEA desk, in its proper sequence, which you would have never known without ever seeing the manual. You cannot say you earned the pieces yourself. You cannot say that you purchased them either. You know that feeling, and you know it can’t just be the universe? It cannot be some vast, unknowable, outerspace energy. Instead, it is all so intentional and loving that you cannot help but believe that it is a God, a person, who loves you, individually. With eyes fixed on you like you are the only person whose life He is concerned about of over the seven billion around you.

So I met Christian at the MMA gym. He joined about two weeks after me back in July. He was immediately friendly to everyone, giving people fist bumps at the beginning of every class. He was already very obviously fit, but new to MMA. I can’t say that I was ever attracted to him, but at the very least, curious. Not romantically curious. Curious about his character. Something about him-- I already knew there was something in me that knew something in him. I just didn’t know what that common something was.

A couple of us at the gym exchanged numbers at the gym last week. When Christian told me his last name was Brown as I saved his number into my phone, I said “Your name sounds like you should be a celebrity or something.” He said, “It’s like one.” I replied, “Oh yeah?” and laughed. “Yeah. Chris Brown.” I really laughed. I laughed a lot. Oh, that’s why he sounds like he should be a celebrity.

At Thursday’s class, Christian and I were stretching on the blue mats. Some anterior hip stretches. I don’t remember how we got to the conversation, but I shared with him how I was hoping to get fired at my job but unfortunately I got promoted instead. So in return, I would be quitting in a month to start working at a coffee shop. His eyes lit up. Yup, there it is. I think I found that common understanding. The thing in me that knew the thing in him. We linked up over coffee and yoga two days later.

So there we were sharing coffee at 9:15 AM on a Sunday. I didn’t know many people who would meet with me on a Sunday morning at 9:15. We were strangers really. The only thing I knew about him was that he was my age, and how his punches to my face feel when we spar in class. Or how his kick feels to my ass. But there we were in early morning window seating at an empty coffee shop, talking about philosophy, love, time, deception, the vanity and sacredness of life, and spirituality. Christian isn’t Christian. But he asked me to share about my Christianity. And I, for the first time in several years, was able to share with a non-believer in complete comfort-- my faith in its full, passionate, flawed, form.

He brought a book for me that he had just finished. Wrapped in a yellow-brown Barnes & Noble plastic bag. It was a tiny book. On The Shortness of Life: Life is Long If You Know How to Use It, by Seneca.

Seneca. Seneca-- the stoic that I listen to Tim Ferris talk about so often. Like Tim Ferris, that batching author.

I held the corner of the book and let the pages quickly flip through my thumb nail. I saw yellow highlights and penciled in comments that Christian had written. That’s exactly what I do with all my books. I wondered if Christian was me in male form. I’m sure many people highlight and write. But I let myself have this moment of knowing the thing in me that knew the thing in him.

“A lot of the things you’re talking about are actually in the book,” he said to me. So I couldn’t wait to get home to read this damn thing. I remember very consciously being happy that I would have something better to read than my Instagram feed.

“And a lot of the ways you are, Tim Ferris is,” I told Christian. He went home and downloaded Tim Ferris’ podcasts.

Seneca

I think Seneca knew I was an accountant. I think God knew. Or Christian knew. Or something. Because today while reading this passage from his book, I had to take several pauses to remember to breathe and wonder if Seneca, God, and Christian were altogether watching me read. It was confirming everything I had concluded in my journey this year.

“Indeed, you are managing the accounts of the world as scrupulously as you would another person’s, as carefully as your own, as conscientiously as the state’s. You are winning affection in a job in which it is hard to avoid ill-will; but believe me it is better to understand the balance-sheet of one’s own life than of the corn trade. You must recall that vigorous mind of yours, supremely capable of dealing with the greatest responsibilities, from a task which is certainly honourable but scarcely suited to the happy life; and you must consider that all your youthful training in the liberal studies was not directed to this end, that many thousands of measures of corn might safely be entrusted to you. You had promised higher and greater things of yourself.

You must retire to these pursuits which are quieter, safer and more important. Do you think it is the same thing whether you are overseeing the transfer of corn into granaries, unspoilt by the dishonesty and carelessness of the shippers, and taking care that it does not get damp and then ruined through heat, and that it tallies in measure and weight?

Indeed the state of all who are preoccupied is wretched, but the most wretched are those who are toiling not even at their own preoccupations, but must regulate their sleep by another’s, and their walk by another’s pace, and obey orders in those freest of things, loving and hating. If such people want to know how short their lives are, let them reflect how small a portion is their own.

So, when you see a man repeatedly wearing the robe of office, or one whose name is often spoken in the Forum, do not envy him: these things are won at the cost of life.”

I was promoted and praised at my job for my hard work. A percentage of raise that I haven’t heard anybody in my level be given before. Yet, I remember coming back to my desk that day of my promotion, not very happy. In fact, pretty sad. I didn’t tell anybody for a while, not even my family. I felt that I was working so hard at fulfilling a firm’s dreams, not mine. I felt like this promotion meant more responsibility and commitment to a thing which I do not want to do.

When Seneca talks about observing the transfer of corn, I get flashbacks of all the inventory observations I had to perform throughout the year as an auditor; taking note of all the damaged goods in various warehouses and making sure company balance sheets were accurate. But now, I’m auditing my own life. I’m taking inventory of my bookshelf, of all the books I bought and haven’t read because social media damned my soul.

I am given the permission to understand the balance sheet of my own life, instead of the balance sheets of a multi-billion dollar pharmaceutical company filing for IPO. I was tempted many times this year to believe that I couldn’t amount to anything. That I will always be this accounting firm’s bottom bitch. But I am prompted now to remember again that I have been given the ability to execute the things-- any things-- that I affix my determination to. I’ve witnessed it myself. And I know again that it is in me. It has always been in me.

So I am thankful because I know I was meant to read this book, this passage, at the end of this year, today, at this time.

OJ Simpson 

You always end up on that weird place on YouTube. This year, I listened to a psychologist on YouTube talk about the characteristics of narcissists, psychopaths, and sociopaths. That same day, I also randomly watched an interview with Kris Jenner where she unashamedly admitted that her regret in life was divorcing Rob Kardashian. I was fascinated by that. That she could firstly be so open about regretting a divorce with somebody. How refreshing it was to watch somebody have no problem saying that they regret something. The ownership of Kris’ regret is so admirable. It reminded me of how I regret not having been a better friend to Richard before he committed suicide this year and how I never want to not regret it. I was secondly fascinated that Kris’ regret was not over marrying Bruce, a man who would later become trans, but rather that it was for simply losing her marriage with Rob.

I wanted to learn about Rob. What about this man could leave a woman with such riches and success in regret? All I knew about Rob was that he was OJ Simpson’s attorney during his murder trial.

Then from there, I got curious about OJ’s trial. I ended up binge-researching the murder and binge-watching The People vs. OJ Simpson. I saw something in me that I knew in OJ Simpson. Just like I knew there was something in me that I knew in Christian. It was alluring and addictive. My heart sank when I recognized it. It was OJ’s narcissism. I had just learned of all the characteristics of narcissism from that psychologist on YouTube. I sneered at OJ on the television and pointed out how he was such a narcissist in this way and that, but then I realized it was me. It was me. It was me on Instagram, it was me on Facebook, it was me in real life. It was a part of me too.

I can’t imagine myself being able to “balance” social media. I don’t think social media is a battle that humans are fit to defeat. It wasn’t designed for humans to be able to tame it and use it in moderation. It was designed by people who design slot machines for casinos. How am I supposed to win something that was designed to get me addicted? I think that so long as I am on it, I will always be playing with the fire and being burned by it. I think it will forever fuel my narcissism. I hate when I’m posting. I hate that I’m so involved in other people’s daily lives who I would otherwise have no business with. And it is nobody’s business to know what I am eating at any given time, yet because of my narcissism, I think people should know what Carol Sohn is eating, singing, doing, every day.

I have a laundry list of books that I bought but I don’t read because I am pulling this slot machine from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed.

I am really not that important. And in another sense, I am so important that I should be feeding myself with books and knowledge instead of feeding on pictures of other people’s lives. I wish for my 24th birthday to gift myself with the severance of social media. I hope I can do it. I have less than 24 hours to say yes to denying myself.

I am learning that to go after the things I really want will mean saying no to things I also do actually want. I really want to respect myself, so I have to say no to hooking up with that hot 38-year old guy that I also want. I really want to open my own coffee shop, so I have to say no to the accounting salary that I also want. The person I am becoming is asking me to sacrifice some things for her. I want to honor this woman.

Moments of Declaration

I remember deciding to quit the pursuit of my CPAs. My mom said that it felt like such a waste of time and money that I had exhausted up until that point if I was just going to give up. I remember thinking that I was just so glad that I’m saving so much time and money by deciding to quit now instead of dedicating more of my life to it. The day of my exam, I didn’t even go. I went to HomeGoods instead. I was in the lamp section as I thought to myself, “Wow, I really don’t give a care about the CPAs. I’m really out here right now looking at lamps and letting a $200 exam fee flutter away. I am really happy.” It was a declaration to myself. A $200 memorial.

Tomorrow is my birthday. For the past several birthdays since I was 19, I had best friends or a significant other planning an extravagant party. This is the first birthday in a while that I don’t really have anything. I’m camping out in my own home in solitude these last few days leading up to my birthday. My own birthday slumber party if you will. The only thing I have planned is to go to orientation at the coffee shop I will soon be working at full-time. At first when I was told that orientation would be on my birthday, I thought, “Do I really want to be at orientation on my birthday? Should I ask them to reschedule it for a different date?” And then I realized, “I would love to do just that on my birthday. There’s no better way I want to spend it.” So tomorrow, from 5-7 PM, I will be at a work orientation to become a barista. It is a declaration to myself that this year, I am doing what I dreamed. No excuses.

Notes to Self for 24

I do not have to be anybody but myself. This past year, I confused myself because I didn’t know if I was feminine, masculine, uptight, relaxed, religious, rebellious, milennial, or old. I am realizing that I am all of this. Some people bring certain sides out of me that other people don’t. I thought I was a phony but I’m not. I’m simply all of this at different times. And it is better to live my own life authentically and imperfectly than to perfectly imitate another’s. There has never been and never will be anybody made exactly like me and it would be a shame to force this life to conform to some other person’s life for the sake of familiarity. I cannot be replicated, and nor can anybody else.

When I finally quit this month and go from that hunky salary to making $8.65 an hour, I will remember what Sue said. “You’re going back to school. People go back to school to learn what they really want and they take out student loans to do it. You’re going back to school, and you’re actually getting paid $8.65 an hour.” Going to work is like going to school. My homework is working on the business and learning to love God, myself, and people.

Jinnie Rhee said this twice to me this year. I think she said it a second time because she forgot that she already said it once before. I’m pretty forgetful, but I know she said this twice because it alarmed me the first time, let alone the second. She said, “I don’t think you realize this, but you’re really really hard on yourself. The way nobody else is.” This was true when I thought about it. This year, I don’t want to be so hard on myself. The inevitable fluctuations in weight, money, faith, and all. Don’t be so hard.

Lastly, as Pastor Julie looked me in the eye and said, “Carol, you don’t need to explain yourself-- not to me, not to anyone.”

This post took me two days and two bottles of wine to write. This year was made so successful, in my eyes, because of a common thread-- people. I am thankful to everyone for sharing their time, a thing no one can ever get back, with me. I thank you, I celebrate you, and I celebrate me.

#birthday #tim ferriss #seneca #breakups #relationships #aging #reflection #business #coffee #cafes #accounting #CPA #oj simpson #kris jenner #rob kardashian #muay thai #brazilian jiu jitsu #mma #red wine #dreams

[soulstream-rp]

Hi Joyce! Welcome to our RP group. Valeria has an interesting story that fits into our little world. Her shop in Port Ashborne will definitely a good place for plot! /We have no doubt that she would be a great addition to the group!  Please make sure to follow everyone on our masterlist and to follow the tags for announcements, starters, follows & unfollows, as well as events. Also, make sure that your submit is activated for OOC chat link purposes. Congratulations and see you soon!

OOC Info.

Name: Joyce

Age: 22

Preferred Pronoun: She/Her

Timezone: est

Activity Scale (1-10): 6 on weekdays 8 on weekends. I have school and a job so i’m busy on weekdays, but less busy on weekends.

IC Info. Original Character

Character Name: Valeria “Val” Ortiz

Age: 27 years old

Character Type: Medium

True Name: “Hunter”

FC: Daniella Pineda

Sexuality: Bisexual

Date & Place of Birth: June 26th, Tijuana, Mexico

Occupation: Artifact and Relic Hunter and Collector

Background:

Valeria and her older sister, Selena, had always been close to their grandmother. The two sisters would sit on her lap or in front of her, listening to the stories she had to tell about the world so very similar to our own. Their grandmother told stories of souls traveling across the sky, lights touching the earth, and of a magic that connected them all. Their mother didn’t approve of her own mother telling her children such stories, but the young girls wanted to be just like their grandmother when they got older.

As the two girls grew up, their mother eventually forbid them from listening to their grandmother. Still, they would sneak out of their rooms in the middle of the night and learn from their grandmother. They took over the family business, running an antiques store. After school, they helped their grandmother at the store and started to practice magic and attempt to connect with spirits. When Valeria turned eighteen, her sister and grandmother along with several other employees were murdered during a robbery at their family shop. Valeria was severely injured from the shootout, but survived.

It was in that moment that Valeria understood her powers as a medium. Her connection to her sister and grandmother allowed her to stay in contact with them as well as her lost father. Her mother finally revealed the truth about their family. Their family business wasn’t just about collecting antiques, but about protecting and preserving artifacts, some dealing with the supernatural and occult. They stole from hunters and thieves and returned the artifacts to whomever they belonged to. Valeria’s father died during a job. The men who shot up their store were looking for artifacts that were stolen from them. Valeria’s mother tried to prevent her daughters from the same fate as their father and push them to live their own lives.

Her mother thought this would deter Val from following the same path as the rest of their family, but it only encouraged her. Val went to a college close to her home so she could still run their store. After she graduated, she started to take a more active role by tracking down artifacts and either buying or stealing them. She would take them back to her shop or return them to their rightful owners, just as her mother and father and grandmother did before her. After a few years, she was able to get their store back to its former glory and had several trustworthy employees take care of things. Valeria made the decision to move to the United States to open another branch of her family’s shop. The first place she thought of was Port Ashbourne after finding a old post card her father sent her and her sister while on a business trip.

Additional Information:

Valeria frequently has nightmares from the robbery at her store. She has a scar on the right side of her chest from the gunshot would she sustained. It’s been years, but it still gives her pain. She also suffers from depression and anxiety, which she takes medication for.

Valeria majored in Classics and Psychology at her university. She was going to only do a major and minor, but ended up loving psychology so much she decided to do a double major at the last minute and stayed in school an extra semester.

She carries around a picture of her family in her wallet. It’s the last family portrait before her father’s death when she was seven. She hates how she looks in the photo because she’d just lost a tooth, but she loves to see all of her family members happy. Val hates it when people think about her being the girl with a dead family, so she never brings them up.

Personality:

Valeria is generally a quiet and introverted woman who always chooses her words carefully, especially around people she doesn’t know. She used to be boisterous and hyper all the time, but has mellowed out since all the deaths in her family. She’s somewhat pessimistic and morbid, having lost faith in most of humanity. However, she can still be just like her former self when she gets to know people and get closer to them. She despises how greedy people can be and dislikes people who are not loyal. Valeria believes in loyalty to a person more than she believes in loyalty to a cause. She continued the family business because of her love and devotion to her sister and grandmother. Valeria doesn’t always follow what is strictly right and wrong. She believes in the gray areas and usually follows her own standards to do what she thinks is right or what she thinks her grandmother would have wanted.

Skills:

Valeria is ambidextrous, but she prefers to write with her left hand. It helped her when she started practicing Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu so she could defend herself while on a job.

Valeria has trained herself in picking locks, picking pockets, and some hacking. She is not the best hacker, but has enough knowledge to get through basic firewalls. She has become a better liar over the years, which often times gets her out of trouble.

Valeria still practices magic to this day. She sometimes uses her mediumship to contact her sister and grandmother. She never tells people about her abilities. She focused mostly in the school of elementalism and has attempted to practice alchemy with few successes.

She is a skilled pianist thanks to lessons her parents made her go to everyday. When her father died, she wanted to quit, but her mother forced her to continue. Her mother wanted her to become a concert pianist. She hardly plays these days, but every now and then she’ll play a tune.

Sample Paragraph:

“Val, come here!” Valeria lifted her head from her book as her sister called her to the front of the store. She closed the book after placing her leather bookmark between the pages. She walked towards the front desk, but froze when she saw guns pointed at her grandmother and sister. Three other employees at the store also stood, frozen in place with their hands on their heads. Val broke out into a cold sweat and her heard started to pound like a drum. Before she could even say a single word, the man barked at her in Spanish. Their accents were terrible, telling the young woman that these men in masks were not from around here.

Every store Val read, every tv show or film she watched told her situations like these ended up with the protagonist feeling like everything slowed down, but for Val, everything sped up. Pop! Pop! Pop! The guns went off, one after another. Bullets flew all around. The glass encasing all the antiques shattered. The glass rained down, sparkling in the light. Any other day, it could have been beautiful. But the glass today was stained with dark blood. The gore seemed to coat everything in the store. Val closed her eyes as a bullet struck her. She fell backwards, struggling to breathe through the shock and pain of hot metal ripping through her insides. Her eyes fluttered shut as the men searched the store. She could hear their heavy footsteps running away when sirens echoed from down the street.

When Valeria opened her eyes again, she was in her hotel room. She was sweaty and shaking when she ripped the covers off. The pillows were strewn everywhere. It was a bad night again. She couldn’t shake the memory of what happened, even nearly ten years later. She forced herself to get to her feet. She went into the bathroom to wash her face and get a sip of water. Val pushed her hair back and looked into the mirror as she took in several deep breaths. She glanced back at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was five am and she knew she wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon. She braided her hair back and went to the desk in the room.

Val tapped the pen on the wooden table as she perched her feet on the surface. She reached over to pick up her phone and dialed a number. “Mama…oh, no, I’m fine,” she said quietly. She put a hand to her head. “I wanted to call and see how you were doing. Is the shop doing well?” Hearing her mother’s voice was calming and comforting. It was her last source of comfort. “I was up early for a run and thought I’d call since we haven’t spoken in a while,” she told her mother. Anytime she called her mother, her mother would get worried about her. “I’m glad things are going well. I’m just in the States for a job. I’ll be careful, I promise,” she said. She put on a small smile, even though her mother couldn’t see it. She glanced at the hotel’s brochures on the desk. “I’m staying in a hotel at this town called…Port Ashbourne. I like it. I think you’d like it, too.” Val sighed softly and stood up from the desk chair. “I love you, too. I’ll let you know how it goes. I think this town will be interesting.”

#daniella pineda fc #rp #ghost rp #magic rp #supernatural rp

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[writingcommons-blog1]

“Lessons Learned” by Alex G.

I took a deep breath, then opened my eyes, it was time. Trevor was sitting across from me; short, overweight, unassuming. He was staring me directly in the eyes trying to figure out what I was thinking, and I was doing the same. In that florescent room, on that cold November day I was rowdy as ever. I was going to kick Trevor's ass.

My many years of folkstyle wrestling gave me a good attitude, a hard head, and in this case too much confidence. We gave each other a fist bump, and it was on from there. Right away I could tell he knew what I was doing. 

Every movement was violent and well thought out. But I was pushing the agenda of this fight. Pummeling overhooks and underhooks, I was able to throw Trevor off balance and put him on his back. At this point I'm winded (a problem that will be addressed in the weight room— I remember thinking to myself) and I wanted to finish this. I was looking for that sweet spot that's on every single person's body that will end a fight. The neck. More specifically the carotid artery, a little pressure in the right spot will put Trevor to sleep!

With Trevor on his back, me on my knees pushing through his legs, I was putting the pressure on. The floor was mine in this fight and I was truly loving it. However, Trevor caught me with my arm too close to my head, and by locking his legs just right around my neck we both knew that I was now in a precarious position. Panic mode! I fought like a dog to break the lock around my neck, but he might as well have been a boulder sitting on my chest. In that brief moment with the world going quiet and the room going black, I laid in disbelief. How could such an unintimidating person do that to me— with such little effort? I franticly tapped on Trev's knee to end the beating. We made eye contact and smiled, no hard feelings. But deep down we both knew that he was in complete control.

This was my first Brazilian Jiu Jitsu class and I just had my first lesson. A lesson administered via an old-fashioned butt-whooping from someone half your size. I learned that I'm not as tough or as smart as I once thought. But submission grappling is the light, and I'm going to follow it. This is an idea that a lot of my friends don't believe until I deciple them to the Jiu Jitsu mat, and it's always the same story: "There's no way you're gunna beat me!" Answered usually with a joint lock of some sort. Truly humbling.

Who knew that five times a week in Iowa City that a group of forty or so people get together and practice one of the most vicious sports known to man. The Tipping Point Brazilian Jiu Jitsu team is comprised of men and women. From undergraduates studying finance, to piano tuners, fine wine consultants, and doctors, it is an eclectic crew. For people training in such an aggressive sport you'd think they'd be aggressive people, but no. The true veterans of the mat approach a fight just like a chess game. Who can outthink the other?

When it comes down to it, the goal of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is to control an opponent with as little energy as possible to ultimately put their body in a position that will stop the fight. Ankles, knees, shoulders, wrists, elbows, and necks are all fair game on these mats. If you practice enough you will learn how to effectively attack all parts of the human body. The technique is fluid and very pleasing to watch, beautiful to me, and I was going to learn it all.

The next morning after my encounter with old Trev, I woke up sore, with bruises spotted all over my body. This human cheetah was hooked. I purchased a white belt and a pair of those cotton pajamas that are associated with karate, referred to as a "gi", and waited in anticipation for the next class. The following practice resulted in me getting beat-up again, the same could be said for the next couple of weeks. This is not an easy hill to climb. Soon enough my ego got over the fact that I wasn't beating people the way I wanted to. I started learning some of the few cardinal rules of Jiu Jitsu, which were ingrained into my subconscious after a few particularly brutal armbars. I started to understand what to look for, what to stay away from, and what my style is. Lesson number two of Jiu Jitsu came to me in a few weeks following my first practice. There is always more to learn. There are many common "positions (how your body is oriented to your opponents')" that you will find yourself in during a fight that are generally accepted as effective. Each position contains a deep well of knowledge— hundreds of transitions, submissions, and defensive measures to be learned. I was now surrounded by people who knew it all, the perfect scenario.

The amount of expertise required to master the sport of Jiu Jitsu is very intimidating to me, and many others. Ten years is generally the amount of time it takes to get a black belt in this sport, two years to make the jump from a novice white belt to an almost-intermediate blue belt.

I'll never forget my first match with a blue belt. It ushered in Jiu Jitsu lesson number three for me. There is always a bigger fish. At this point I've already completed my first submission by armbar (Oh Happy Day!) and I was feeling pretty good about my training. A blue belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is the second rank to be attained.

Usually required to be well versed in all positions, a blue belt will not be making any white belt mistakes, and a blue belt should be able to teach most moves effectively to a new-comer. It was time for me to fight my first blue belt. Needless to say, I didn't win. I definitely did not expect to beat him, but I also didn't expect to feel so helpless during the match! Such is life in Jiu Jitsu. But the real lesson came while I sat against the wall watching the preceding matches. My last opponent was now facing a purple belt (next rank up), and he was getting absolutely wrecked. Like I said, there is a wealth of information to be learned, and that poor blue belt was experiencing this first hand. There's always a bigger fish.

It was actually against a purple belt where I experienced first-hand the most savage thing a human being can do to another— without being arrested at least. The "bow and arrow choke" was something I've heard of, but never had been done to me at this point in my training. Just a whisper among my fellow white belts. By getting behind your opponent and pulling the collar of their gi tightly across their neck, you initiate the move. Next you throw a leg over their arm, and grab at the pant leg. Just like the name suggests, you "draw" your opponent back like an arrow ready to be launched. By using their own gi, you strangle you partner. You will feel Adam's apples' cave at the will of your grip, and you will hear your partner sputter and choke. A submission every time. Just when I thought I saw everything, I found myself laying on the ground contorted in this delicate position. Lesson number two revisited, there's always more to learn! I know that there are more lessons to be learned in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and I know that I have a long way to go. Despite the weekly beatings, this is a very empowering sport, it keeps you competitive, disciplined, and most importantly humble. Just like my nose after my first match with a brown belt, these skills bleed into life outside of Jiu Jitsu, and vice versa. The harder you work out of practice the better you will be during. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is a sport that I have thrown my life into, I am proud of everything I've learned, I'm proud of my permanent cauliflower ear, and yes, I am proud that I finally ended up beating Trevor.