#it's mostly centered around the thought of how reaching 0 means your connection to this pocket universe is pretty much cut

[kai-borg]

Infinity train character idea I gotta write up sometime:

A passenger who’s number broke so he can’t leave

Whatever his lessons were that he needed to learn, during the final one something happened that caused his number to skip past [0] to [-1] or something in the negative range (and yes the colours are like that for a reason, just love red=code error/etc stuff)

He was with a group of other passengers at the point who’d also been completing their last lessons and whatnot, so he hid his number and told them he must’ve had another lesson or something, but he’d catch up with them later (y’know, like a liar)

The issue is, even though he kept trying things to fix his number, trying to figure out new lessons, doing the opposite of old ones, helping out other passengers, it just kept getting lower, and spreading (like with you know who’s group), and as he later realized, somehow his number breaking like that had changed his connection to the train/the pocket dimension it was in and he’d not only started gaining abilities that could alter and/or outright damage the worlds inside carts, eventually developing into the ability to modify himself in various ways as his connection between the two realities corrupted even further, he’d also stopped aging.

By this point he’d have already gone through multiple teamups with solo/groups of passengers before finding out how much time had apparently passed outside, and his number would’ve long since begun covering the majority of his body, not enough he couldn’t hide it, but enough he needed full to wear clothes that provided a lot of skin coverage, but with this discovery it’d be enough to finally push his number into covering all of him, and also breaking him in the same moment.

Whatever’d happen he’d end up driving whatever team he was with away, and most likely permanently taking over and corrupting the environment of the cart he was in, and possibly also it’s connection to the train and mini-universe itself.

I pretty much just have this idea of some ageless, reality warping, and highly unstable passenger who’s covered in glowing red, constantly changing numbers (cycling especially rapidly whenever he alters the reality of whatever environment he’s in in a particularly dramatic moment, or modifies himself), and terrorizes the inhabitants of the train, and while not actively trying to kill passengers, more than willing to torment, terrify, and toy with whatever passengers he comes across out of a hatred for the fact he still can’t leave, while collecting whatever items, landscapes, and even creatures that he either might have old memories of, or just interest him which he drags back to his corrupted cart to create some sort of hall of memories/comfort-esque ‘new home’ seeing as how he’ll never return to his old one

Basically, big disturbing antagonist with creepy powers, a flair for the dramatic, and a bit of mental instability that came about from having to contend with the fact he 1) will never return home, and everyone he knew is probably dead, 2) is stuck in a weird surreal train dimension of outright terrifying at times mini-worlds in every cart that come in every flavour of whatever random combination for a setting you can think of, and are filled with countless sapient, but entirely non-human beings, many of which are less than friendly, and all of which you can never escape no matter how many carts you go through, and 3) has to come to terms with the fact he’s practically lost his own humanity in everything except form, and even that is entirely up to his own desires (and also because it’s what he’s still the most subconsciously used to regardless of how he temporarily changes it), and has resulted in a tendency to lash out both physically, and verbally with the same vitriol he felt about the situation he was forced into before he began to lose it entirely.

In other words, very cruel, scary antagonist at this point, but not entirely irredeemable if you can somehow actually get through to him in a way that settles at least enough of his fractured psyche that some of his old self pulls itself back into the forefront.

#infinity train #infinity train character idea #character idea #character idea I gotta write out fully sometime #I'll try and clean this up into something coherent sometime just needed to lay the idea out in a post somewhere at least #in all honesty infinity train is a fun show but it doesn't exactly pull my interest in as much as other shows #it's plots just kind of loose and all over the place even if it's coherent enough to tell what's going on #I also prefer when there's consistent MC's over new ones every season #not that I dislike how it's being done just not my usual cup of tea #which is also why the fact that this idea has been sticking with me for as long as it has is an odd one #did not expect to get a character idea my brain'd get invested in enough to keep from a fandom I'm never really going to be a part of #like this guy's been bouncing around since mid season-1/early season 2 #tho that scene with you know who from the trains favourite group of murderish vandal children was what cemented the idea fully #sure numbers came before it but the idea that they gave you powers the higher they got flipped my brains creative switch all the way on #especially with the idea of what kind of differences there would be in powers if the numbers weren't going up from 0 but down #and so I of course had to start going the eldritch abomination reality altering monster man route #it's mostly centered around the thought of how reaching 0 means your connection to this pocket universe is pretty much cut #so if your connection reaches the point where it was supposed to be cut but then somehow skips over it #what does it mean when you're still stuck there but technically not connected to it any longer #and what does that mean for the connection to the dimension you should now be in #and I went this means you're connection to both is now so screwed up the reality your in is no longer compatible with you and vice versa #but because your also still a part of it neither its or your existence can reject the other and they also can't properly incorporate either #and because of this conflict reality around you starts pretty much tearing apart at the seams #now whether you can benefit from this tearing much less control it'd be another thing but in this case I'm saying he can #with the... mental fragility that came with being forced to acknowledge what was happening to him he pretty much ended up in the perfect #mentality to adapt to the newfound abilities his impossible existence had spawned as if they were just basic instinct #the minimal training he had in using them at their much weaker when his existence was not as altered by his screwed up connection #(i.e. a negative number that didn't cover all of him and constantly altered) #also helped his mind and body adapt to them as he fractured

[angst-fairygodmother]

i love ur stuff!!! do u think u could write something like diego and the reader not liking eachother (maybe the reader is friends with klaus or allison or someone) and then slowly they begin to like eachother ??? :0

A/N: Thank you so much for the sweet message Nonny ☺ it was a lovely prompt, and I hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2060 Content Warning: mild swearing

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you like Diego?” Klaus asked one evening as the two of you lounged on your couch watching Allison’s latest red carpet event.

“Is that a serious question?” you counter with a raised eyebrow, popping another piece of popcorn in your mouth.

“Yeah. I mean, you get along with everyone else, literally. But not Diego.”

“I don’t get along with everyone else. And I just…think he’s jerk.”

“He is. But so’s Luther and you like him fine.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it. I just, every time I talk to your brother I get filled with this overwhelming desire to hit something.”

Klaus started laughing and you raised an eyebrow questioningly. He just shook his head, still laughing. However, he dropped the subject after that and you decided not to push him on what might have been so funny.

~

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smirk, still holding onto your arm.

“Oh don’t do that, Diego,” you snapped. “Don’t act like you did me some favor and I should be grateful.”

“I just saved your life, Y/N.”

“It was a guy on a bike; I think I would have been fine. I can take care of myself.” You folded your arms over your chest, pulling out of his grasp in the process. “What are you even doing here?”

He shrugged. “Out for a walk.”

“Really? In this part of town nowhere near anything you usually have to do with?”

He shrugged. “It was a long walk.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m outta here.”

“Not gonna offer to buy me dinner for saving your life?” he called after you as you started to walk away.

“In your dreams Hargreeves,” you shot back.

~

The next time you saw Diego, you had called him to meet you and he seemed quite surprised when he showed up to the park.

“What’s going on, Y/N? No offense, but you were the last person I was expecting to hear from,” he asked, trying to hide the fact that concern had made him run most of the way there.

“It’s Klaus. He hasn’t been by in a while and he missed our weekly breakfasts. He never does that, especially since I pay. So I’m worried and…I couldn’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. Sorry to bother you.” You shifted uncomfortably and bit your lip, worried that you had annoyed him and that he would refuse to help.

“Shit,” he sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “Alright, I’ll help you look for him. But the kind of places he hangs out…we probably shouldn’t split up, even if it would let us cover more ground.”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking too. I figured I should call someone in for backup.” You shrugged and forced a smile.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, figuring that you would be more likely to actually spot him if you moved on foot than by car, even if it would take you more time. And, if you were being honest, you didn’t mind the amount of time. You found that when you weren’t actively fighting, you appreciated the presence of the other Hargreeves. You certainly felt safe with him beside you, between the knives and the subtle strength that you could see in his stance and the muscles that his clothing clung to.

“Is there something going on between you and Klaus?” he asked suddenly after a while of quiet.

“What? No. He’s my best friend. I don’t…I don’t see him like that.”

He gave you a look that suggested he didn’t quite believe you.

“I’m serious. I love him sure, but the same way I love my baby sister. I want the world for him and would do anything for him but…romantically…blegh.” You scrunched up your face in disgust at the thought and the man beside you laughed.

“So if not my brother…is there someone special?”

You fell silent, studying Diego through the corner of your eye. Part of you itched to snap that it was none of his business. The other part of you, quite rebelliously, admired the slope of his shoulders beneath his black sweater and the cut of his jaw, how the long scar above his ear interrupted his smooth, almost militaristic appearance and made him more attractive, more dangerous looking.

“No,” you said, after maybe too long of silently enjoying the view of him. “No one’s seemed worth my time.”

“You really think highly of yourself don’t you?” he laughed.

“What?”

“’No one’s seemed worth my time,’” he quoted back, “sounds awfully pretentious.”

You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “No…I just meant that I’ve dated quite a few duds in the past, and I don’t see the point in wasting my time. If I don’t feel a connection with the person before we go out…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s high maintenance, but I’d rather be that than miserable.”

He nodded and stayed silent. A quick glance over at him showed that he was lost in thought.

As the two of you patrolled, looking for any sign of Klaus, you found yourself wondering more and more about the mysterious “Number Two.” But after several hours, even though you were enjoying your, mostly silent, time together, you were growing frustrated.

“This is hopeless,” you groaned. “It’s going to take the two of us days to canvass the whole city, and if he’s been checked in somewhere, we still won’t find him.”

“You’re probably right, Y/N,” Diego said with a nod. “Let’s grab some lunch and then we can start—”

“Calling the usual rehab centers,” you finished at the same time as him. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”

He smiled softly at you and reached out, as if offering you his hand to hold before quickly retreating and shoving them into his pockets.

“Do you like Greek? I know a great Greek diner nearby,” he offered.

~

After that day, you found yourself spending more time with Diego, realizing your initial distaste was misguided, a snap judgement that he really didn’t deserve. One afternoon, Klaus caught you chatting with his brother on the phone, he had called to invite you to one of his boxing matches, and twirling the cord between your fingers as you did.

“Oh. My. God.” he cried out, slapping his hands to either side of his face with exaggerated shock. “You liiiike him.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, punching him lightly, a hot blush creeping across your face at the thought of Diego potentially hearing.

“What was that?” he asked, voice tinny through the receiver.

“Nothing, just your idiot brother.”

You heard him chuckled. “I see. Well, anyway, the gym is kinda out of the way so it can be hard to find, so how about I meet you at your place and we can walk there together?”

“You don’t have to do that Diego.”

“But maybe I want to?”

“O-oh,” you stammered, thrown by the warmth in his voice. “Well, in that case, that sounds nice.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

“A date?” you raised your eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it and tried your best to ignore Klaus’s flailing and pumping his fist excitedly in the air.

“Yeah, a date. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“Okay, see you later Diego.”

You were smiling when you hung up the phone, and the warmth in your chest made you feel like you were floating. So much so that you were completely compliant to Klaus dragging you through the apartment the two of you sort of shared, insistent on picking out the “perfect outfit” for you to “stun his brother so hard he drops in shock and awe.”

~

The night of the date, you fidgeted nervously on your couch, bouncing your leg and chewing on the corner of your thumbnail, waiting for Diego to get there. A thousand thoughts a minute ran through your mind and you stomach twisted itself in knots. You tried to tell yourself you were being ridiculous, the two of you had become friends over the past several weeks, and there was no reason to think this evening was going to be any different, just because Diego had said it was going to be a date.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear the buzzer or notice Klaus rushing to greet his brother until Diego stood in the doorway, trying to get around his brother to say hello.

“If you ever hurt her Diego,” Klaus said sternly, poking an index finger against his brother’s chest, blocking the short hallway of your apartment.

Diego raised an eyebrow as if challenging whether Klaus was actually trying to threaten him.

“If you ever hurt her, my beloved brother or not, I will eat your shoelaces,” Klaus continued, undaunted, eyes narrowed and face the picture of seriousness.

“What?”

“Every single shoelace. Slurp ‘em up like spaghetti. Inconvenient as hell.”

“Klaus, you are my very best friend and I love you,” you interrupted, rising to go and stand by the two, equally unable to get Klaus out from between. “But what the fuck? Please don’t eat shoelaces in my defense. God that is the weirdest sentence I’ve ever said…”

“Yeah, and we can’t afford to take to the vet and have them removed when they tangle around your intestines,” Diego added, rolling his eyes. “We’ll have to just put you down.”

“Unsettling and inconveniencing my family and dying? Best day ever!” Klaus gave a little clap and jump of joy, which quickly morphed into an apologetic look when he glanced over his shoulder and saw your glare.

“Well, I’ll get out of your way. You two crazy kids have fun now,” he said cheerfully, as if the previous conversation hadn’t happened. “Don’t do anything I would do!”

You rolled your eyes as he sidled past back to the living room, giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder as he did.

Diego felt his jaw drop as he took in your outfit. It wasn’t quite your usual style, but was enough like you to not feel like you were trying so hard. And you looked stunning in it.

“Wow,” he eventually breathed, causing you to chuckle and rub the back of your neck nervously. “You look…I don’t know if I’m going to be able to focus on the fight with you looking like that.”

“It was Klaus’s idea,” you mumbled. “I know it’s a bit much…”

“No!” he assured, a little too quickly. “It’s great…you look great.”

You shot him a slightly flirtatious smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” You let your eyes rove over his tight-fitted jeans and Henley, in black of course.

“C-c-can I kiss you?” he stammered, stepping closer. “For luck?”

You responded by snaking your arms around his neck and leaning in to press your lips to his. He groaned into the kiss, hands coming to rest on your hips, fingers digging into your sides and pulling you closer. Gently, he backed you up the few steps necessary to pin you against your wall, running his tongue over your lower lip at the same time. You let out a little gasp as you bumped into the plaster and he took the opportunity to slip in and begin exploring your mouth.

Grasping his hair in your fist, you eventually pulled him away from you to drink deeply of the air, trying to ignore the wave of desire that shot through you when the action made him moan hungrily.

“We should stop,” you panted.

“Why?” he responded, equally out of breath and fighting your grip to kiss the side of your neck.

“You have a match to get to. Wouldn’t this be so much better as a reward for winning it?” You teased lightly. “And somewhere your brother wasn’t…?”

He laughed. “You have a point there. I want you all to myself.”

“Well then get a move on. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

He threaded his fingers through yours as he led you through the door.

“Don’t wait up!” you called back over your shoulder to Klaus, making Diego groan once more and you smirked. Tonight was shaping up to be even better than you could have hoped.

#something of an abrupt ending but I got stuck and gave up #Diego Hargreeves x Reader #featuring Klaus Hargreeves #because he's too much fun not to include lol #Diego Hargreeves #reader-insert #The Umbrella Academy #TUA #a little light enemies-to-lovers?

[syndianites]

The Consequences of Your Actions

Ship: Syndianite (Tom x S1 Dianite)

Summary: Vampire AU! Dianite has had many lovers over the years. Some were mere playthings, meant to pass the time. Others were passionate loves, a fire raging until their inevitable demise. Very few were of the immortal variety, most searching for a power grab, others enthralled by his image. One was different, one was special. And he’d be damned if he was going to let him slip away.

Chapter: 0/?

AN: I don’t know how long this will be, but it was dying to be written. I will commit to this, even when I have no time in my schedule for it. That’s how bad I need to write this. This chapter is basically angst, filled with some plot and setup, sprinkled with angst. There’s a little super obvious foreshadowing too.

Prologue

Tonight, there was something amiss in the city. As the residents slept, unaware of the feud taking place beyond their homes, beings of majesty that far outweighed their own were locked in battle. Meriden was ruled by chaos by night, and with each second passing, there was more to go around.

The Lord of the East had assembled his army very carefully. Each warrior had undergone tests, knowingly or not, to abide by certain standards. Their turning was meticulously planned to keep suspicion at bay. His soldiers held a slew of abilities, sorted both on those and their personality. The loyalty of his followers was made certain by the sire bond. His battalions far outnumbered that of the West Lord’s.

The Lord of the West had an army of considerable means. They had assembled of their own dedications, each loyal to him, under the sire bond, or through a will driven by what they saw from him. Despite their uptake as his soldiers, many lacked basic combat skills. Their first thought was not of war, but of being there for their Lord. Only those of higher class, or those of deeper connection, pushed themselves to be ready to protect him at any cost. Unfortunately, the cost was higher than they could have imagined.

It was no secret the Lords were at odds. Despite being brothers, their intents for each other were less than friendly. Though they were always at one another’s throats, itching to fight, seldom did they wage full wars against the other. Their battles never ended with a winner, the damage to both sides gave nothing in return to the Lords. And at the end of it all, they were one of the few who understood each other.

Dianite, the Eastern Lord, had not woken with the intention the starting such a battle. His growing army was not established to destroy his brother’s faction.  Such intentions had not been on his mind for many months now, his thoughts occupied by other events. The lurking threat edging into the city, the mysterious shadows, was but one of these worries. The other of his mortal lover, a human of which he had become rather attached to.

But as the sun fell, and the Lord went to discuss the matter with his brother, he failed to notice something was wrong. Lost in his worries, his keen senses were ignored, the signs bypassed. In the end, this was what let him fall into this trap. His dear brother, Mianite, the Western Lord, had been waiting with much different intentions for his visit. For before him, snarling and forced to his knees, was none other than Thomas Cassel, his beloved human.

Perhaps if he’d have taken a critical eye to the scene, he would have noticed the shadows in the background, how unnatural they were. He could have taken note of the dampened look in his brother’s eyes, how they appeared almost lifeless. Could he have changed the course of the evening with the insinuation this information had given him, what he knew these signs meant? Had it been any other being before the Lord, maybe he could have.

As it stands, he showed a considerable amount of strength keeping himself from launching forward, tearing his brother apart from so much as threatening his lover. He could feel the rage setting in, his body burning with it. Fire jumped from his fingertips, and he forced himself to stay rooted to where he stood.

“My brother,” Mianite called from across the alleyway, the meeting point they had settled upon centuries earlier, placed in neutral ground, “You seem a tad stressed. Have you been keeping up with your sleep schedule? I know when you take human,” he rolled the word distastefully in his mouth, “you prefer to give them the illusion of being one of them.” Tilting his head to the side in mock curiosity, the Lord asked, “Say, did you ever tell this lovely toy of yours what you are?”

Mianite’s hand was dug into the mortal’s bright blue hair, twisting the locks cruelly as he craned Tom’s neck back until he had a full view of his face. “Look at that pretty face,” he cooed, as the human snarled, trying to yank out of the awful grip that was keeping him in place. The Lord continued as though there was no resistance, bending down to brush his lips against Tom’s neck, “So feisty too. It’s no wonder your so fond of him. Though, I must say, I’m rather surprised that you let him keep the blue hair. Not quite your color. Were you considering giving him to me as a gift, painting him my color just for me?” He cut himself off with a soft chuckle, a glint of fangs poking into the open air, “He looks so captivating. I could take him right here. The feel of his skin giving way beneath my teeth, his gasps reaching my ears, his blood coursing down my throat.”

A growl ripped from Dianite’s throat, all his instincts screaming for retribution, to rip out the Lord’s jugular, to sever his head, pull his fangs from his jaw. But he knew one wrong move could cost his love hi life. Faintly, he could feel the concern of his fledglings, the unease. This sent his protective urges overboard, made his head spin. “If you don’t remove your hand from him, I will remove it for you,” Dianite seethed, the air between them charged, a heaviness covering the area. “My, my, I don’t believe you are in the place to make such remarks.” He straightened himself back up, letting his nails, slowly extending into claws, scrape against the mortal’s cheek. “I’d hate to ruin such beauty.”

The Eastern Lord knew his brother wanted something, but the object of his desires eluded him. He begrudgingly asked the wretched question, words dripping with malice, “What is it you want?” The Vampire Lord sighed, disappointed with the query. “How boring,” Mianite drawled with an accompanying eyeroll, “Surely you could do better than that? What could I possibly want? What could you offer me that I could not provide for myself? Your part of the city. For many centuries, we have cultivated this from a small, pathetic town, to a true village, to a sprawling city, now capable of being labeled a metropolis. And I want it all. Yours, Ianite’s. Everything.”

The only light shining on this bullshit was from the half moon, climbing towards midnight, and the dangerous glow in Dianite’s eyes. Clenching his hands into tight fists, the Lord grit out, “Give me back Tom, and you can fucking have it bastard.” Mianite’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting the Lord to cave so fast. With a shrug, he pushed Tom into a standing position, before approaching the other Lord. Keeping his left hand curled around the mortal’s neck, he thrust his right hand out. “Let’s make this a true deal. Bound by magic. The only way to break it is to start a new one, or for one of us to kill the other. But” he paused, as Dianite reached his hand forward, “We have to wait at least 24 hours before we can go after each other.” Flashing his pearly whites in a mocking smile, he invitingly placed his hand within reach. Without hesitating, Dianite shook his hand. Tom was worth it.

However, both had a card up their sleeves. Dianite still had his army, full of loyal, trained fledglings, who might as well have been his children, and many allies with them. Mianite, on the other hand, was ready to enact a loophole. Taking his hand back, he shoved it through Tom’s gut in one fluid motion, a fatal blow that would give the two lovers mere minutes together. As the mortal fell towards the Lord, Dianite roared, rage and agony coursing through him. He lashed out at Mianite, but he was gone. “Kill him,” the Lord screeched, reaching out through the link he held with his fledglings, “Tear apart his army and destroy his home. Leave nothing left.” Resounding echoes of rage and war sounded in his head, but he was focused on the body collapsed in his arms.

“Tom, Tom focus,” Dianite struggled to stay calm. His rage burned, fire screaming to be released. He knew the next few moments would be the most important for Tom’s life. Whether he would still have one. “Beloved, do you want to live? Do you want to stay with me?” The human’s glazed over eyes struggled to find him in the gloom, centering on the orange glow emanating from them. He nodded, adding a faint, whispering croak, “Yes. I won’t leave you alone to suffer.” The Lord rest his forehead on Tom’s. “Even if you become a monster?” With the last of his energy, Tom forced out the word, “Yes.”

Biting his lips hard enough to draw blood, the Lord kissed his lover one final time for the night. In all his glory and might, he had only been able to save one of his followers at such a last-minute attempt. The blood flowing out of Tom would speed of the process, as much as it would close the window for the change. Time was of the essence, and it was slipping fast.

(AN: Im tired, i know its the oldest excuse in the book, otherwise id have written more. I left it there for suspence :) but prolly should have gone back and made a lot of few edits, but i think it looks pretty good. I had a weird phase of shifting from detail to actual story, so other than that, i think it flowed. That was mostly set up, but kinda not good set up. It just gives background for the next few chapters)

#Syndianite #Diacate #TomxDianite #DianitexTom #SyndicatexDianite #DianitexSyndicate #Mianite #MianiteS1 #when will my tags pop up for me #too many tags #I think i actually created one or two #Angsty chapter #it gets better #I promise

[moddersinc]

Gamers4Gamers

Gamers4Gamers - Helping those who can not help themselves... On Sept.14th, 2018, a Category 1 hurricane destroyed parts of coastal North and South Carolina. The storm surge flooding wiped away lives, destroyed houses, and ripped apart anything standing in its watery way. While many were in safety inland, or in other states... I could not help but feel for those poor souls that were left with nothing. What if your house was wiped out? Flooded with 5.5 - 6 feet of storm surge water? Everything you have is now under water. Pictures, clothes, furniture, and your trusty computer. For many, this is the reality they are now dealing with. Everything is gone. Digital and physical alike, floods make no distinctions. Water is the enemy of electrical components, and a flood will simply ruin everything. As I sat in my dry house, looking at the many blessings I have in my life, I began to think: "What can I do? What can we do?" "What can I organize to make a difference?" "What can *we* do?" That was a very liberating thought. Then it occurred to me, gamers will be missing their rigs! Those wonderful contraptions that transport us to other worlds, and give us a brief respite from our daily grind... except in this case, the daily grind is the arduous task of putting your life back together. For those that have computers, they are life savers. You can purchase and have items delivered, you can research and know proper answers, you can game, and have a little fun in the midst of all of the insanity around you. I imagined how much kids, who have so little to go on early in their lives, were straining under the weight of the loss of their computer. I thought of the adults that are doing what they can on their smartphones, but could get "so much more done on a computer". To all of them that were thrillists and escapists using their circuits to travel to far away places.... far away from the destruction they see every day... if only they could get away, if even for a few short jaunts...

I thought about the shelters for families, those on the run from an abusive spouse... or the cool off rooms that are sometimes in police or fire stations. Safe places where kids can go and relax knowing they are safe. How many of those have been affected? How many machines have been lost? How many people have been unable to let off some pressure, with a little gaming? Then it was cemented when one of my Destiny 2 clanmates spoke on our Discord server about losing everything. That was it. I had to find a way to do something, but what that something was seemed daunting. Almost laughable. Millions impacted, Thousands in need... and me, with a couple of computers? But to those couple of people/families/entities, they would be invaluable. "I need to find a way to replace some of those lost gaming rigs. I need to build machines that will be able to be used to bring a person back into the gaming world. I can't replace their software, they will have to do that. But I have enough contacts over the years to put machines together! I can piece them together! But how many can I do? So I set the number at 10. 10 complete machines. If I can do more, I will, but 10 seemed to be a reasonable number for a lone builder to shoot for. I have time on my side too. This disaster is slow moving. Because the flood waters are still receding in many places, they are still in peril. 2 weeks after this storm made landfall (writing this on 9/28), the flooding is still happening. Water that was pushed inland by the pressure of the hurricane, is now draining out. Some people came back after the hurricane only to have what little they had, washed away by the secondary floods. When I say I have time, I mean that these machines will need to be delivered when the recipient has a safe place to stay, electricity, broadband, etc. that is going to be weeks... months even. There is no HURRY on this...

My plan, in its most rudimentary form, is to build replacement gaming computers for individuals and agencies, that lost these assets in the hurricane and/or flooding. This is the area we are focusing on, right at the North Carolina and South Carolina borders where the states meet at the ocean

  Who all has signed on? I am so very thankful to the early adopters of this crazy idea of mine! These vendors are all on board with the premise, and have donated, or plan on donating to the cause. Without these early adopters and supporters, this would be a very difficult task to get off of the ground.

Thank you! As the parts arrive I will begin banner creation and sponsorship posts. For the grid below, please scroll to the right to see the parts status on all 10 machines. Vendors, please reference the below table so as to ensure minimal overlap: DATE: 10.6.2018 Comp 1 Comp 2 Comp 3 Comp 4 Comp 5 Comp 6 Comp 7 Comp 8 Comp 9 Comp 10 Case x x x x x 5/10 Cases Power supply 0/10 Power supplies Motherboard 0/10 motherboards Processor 0/10 processors CPU Cooler x x x x x x 6/10 CPU Coolers Memory 0/10 memory Storage 0/10 Hard drives Video card 0/10 Video Cards Fans x x 2/10 Fans Monitor 0/10 monitors Keyboard x x x 3/10 keyboards Mouse x x 2/10 mouse Headset x x x 3/10 headset   The goal is to have as many vendors as possible so that no one vendor shoulders the load. I am trying to gather the following items for delivery:

If you can participate/donate, I appreciate any and all help.

Let's do this, -=Craig Tate *UPDATE* 2/14/2019 It has been much more challenging to find partners in the areas affected. I realized that maybe my focus was too specific and difficult to target. So I altered my scope to look for kids and families in need of computer resources in the affected, instead specifically for gamers, and I am excited to say I have found an ally for this charitable outlet. Coastal Horizons Center, of Wilmington, NC. Working with their CIO, we have identified families and children in need of these resources! We have identified 6 people/families that need this relief: 4 families in need Family 1: family of 6; client is 13, limited financial resources, client has been sitting in in-school-suspension (ISS) because she does not have a computer at home to complete school projects (sounds unbelievable, but true). Family 2: family with 5 children, ranging from 5-15 years old (4 of these children are clients), limited financial resources; lost beds, furniture, roof during hurricane (we found a resource that provided beds for them and worked on their roof), living in Wallace, needing computer mostly for school projects and homework. Family 3: family of 3 children; client is 16, limited financial resources, lost everything in the hurricane, will be moving into their own home in Feb. Family 4: family of 2 children; client is 8, limited financial resources, in the process of repairing their trailer, (we connected them with resources in the community to provide clothing and cleaning supplies) Coastal Horizons Employee from one of our rural locations have an employee who was hit particularly hard and had to relocate from her home. I also know she does not have a computer at home, so this would make a world of difference for her. Client from our Wilmington Office Client with horrible living conditions and wants to move but says she needs to sell many of her things first. She has mentioned many times to her therapist that she needs a way to post things online.   As noted in the chart on the previous page, We are still lacking core components. However, with the broadening of the scope, many of the computers have become more general purpose, rather than gaming machines, which should make producing them easier. Simplicity and reliability will be key. Main things in need of now are motherboards/processors/RAM/SSD's for 6 machines Keyboards and mice for 3 machines Monitors for 6 machines We have the ability to make a difference in peoples lives with what we know and what we do. We have targets, we have a verified distribution outlet, and we have a tangible goal number that is reachable. I will be reaching out to people to complete the build parts list topo make this mission a reality. Lets give people something to feel good about, something to help themselves with. I thank you for your generosity and support as we help those who currently are doing without. -=Craig Read the full article

[billscheft]

Recap: Adrianne Tolsch Memorial Service (Wed, January 4, St. Peters Church)

It was, as I have said to anyone who’d listen and many who weren’t, beyond anything that I would have not even dared myself to hope for.

We caught every break. The weather was 50 degrees and sunny in January and St. Peters Church turned out to be big enough to handle almost 400 people.

Yeah, you heard me. Close to 400 people showed up. The other day, a grief counselor told me people die as they live. If you’re bitter and alone, you’ll die bitter and alone. If you touched a lot of people, you will be surrounded by a lot of people. I was downstairs with Larry Amoros and Kathleen McCarthy as they came filing in, and we started 10 minutes late because we had to, as they say on Broadway, hold for the house. And when I came up, I looked straight ahead to me chair off to the side of the podium so I wouldn’t make eye contact with the half a dozen people who would collapse me if I saw them. I didn’t really know how big the crowd was until Barbara Gaines, my best friend who produced this thing, told me she ran out of the “good programs” and had to pass out the paper ones. Which I saw, and which were pretty damn good their own self.

I had gotten to the church with Larry around 8:45. Barbara Pinter, who was playing the Mozart nocturne, showed up at 9:00. Two months before she passed, Adrianne and I were in a cab with Barbara and she said, “Mumshki (they called each other “Mumshki”), I want you to learn this Mozart nocturne. I just need to find out what number.” Barbara had been a former concert pianist and Adrianne had never made such a request, but she knew she had been having trouble with her hand and she wanted to give her an assignment. Or maybe she knew she needed a processional. Mozart Nocturne #9, op 2. Mumshki tested out the piano, and pronounced it “lovely.” Like I said, we caught every break.

Three of the four Truants ambled in by 9:15. They did a quick amp and mic check. Fine. Around the same time, I get a call from my bass player, Roger Lipson. “I’m at 619 Broadway and there’s no church here,” he says. “That’s because we’re at 619 Lexington.” “Oh…. I’ll be a little late.” Adrianne’s son, David Kerzner, pulled in around 9:20, plugged his Fender knockoff into the amp and diddled about five seconds. Done.

My one pre-gig technical problem was the podium. The place where you put your notes was too low. In that “no man’s land” between glasses and no glasses. Larry said he had the same problem. Luckily, it is common and Sam Hutcheson, who runs the church and who I’ve known for 15 years, went to the back and fetched a Plexiglas lectern that raised things a crucial two feet.

Larry and I went downstairs with Kathleen as they filed in and told her some of Adrianne’s lines that she’s never heard. Like her aunt that was abducted by aliens: “They took me aboard their spaceship and examined me. Turns out it was a cyst. Benign. Nothing….”

Okay, so now it’s 10:10 and we’re off. Mumshki was wonderful. I got up. I was not nervous. I always knew I had the right format and the right people. I was confident about what I had written, which was mostly a repurposing of Adrianne’s material. And if I lost it, I lost it. As Gary Muhldeer told me about his act years ago, “You can’t fuck this up.” So, for once, my expectations were more than reasonable. And then, I started to speak, and I heard how strong and confident my voice was. That’s when I know I was not just going to be fine, I was going to be good. Because unlike all the other times, I wasn’t doing it for me.

I did 14 minutes and I would post all the remarks here, but we’re a week or so away from the video being done and I want you guys to hear them as they were said. (I have Larry’s remarks too, but you REALLY need to hear him do them. That is the only way you can believe such things were said at a memorial….)

My attitude toward the memorial had always been, “I’m not going to tell you how to feel about her. She belonged to all of you and you all had your deep connection with each other. So, let’s do the celebration she wanted. Let’s shower her with laughs.”

And there were big big laughs. The audience turned out to be as fearless as Adrianne. And as versatile. Not there wasn’t what College Boy used to call “pathos up the ying-yang.” Kathleen McCarthy followed me and spoke so eloquently of their relationship, taking time out to poke Adrianne for her germaphobic and yes, shy, tendencies. And her last words to Kathleen, which were always her last words to Kathleen. “I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Like the MC Adrianne trained me to be, I did a minute in between acts. I told an inside story about the basement of St. Peters that well over 2/3 of the people got, and then brought up Christine Quinn. Let me tell you about Chris Quinn. She has spent her life in public service, which means when she speaks in public, she is duty-bound to self-promote. The closest she came was three times, when she made fun of herself trying to self-promote. She spoke from her giant heart as someone who Adrianne had never stopped trying to reach out to in her own gentle but forthright way. From the day I met her in 2007 during a 0 degree day on the Writers Guild picket line, I have found Christine Quinn to be endlessly singular as public servant. And then you throw in the red hair and the great laugh, and cancel the rest of the auditions.

Before I read Catullus poem #5 in Latin, I said, “There’s been a lot of talk about how bright Adrianne and I were…” There hadn’t, but it got me into the tree story, which is a beauty and you’ll enjoy when the video is done. I got through 13 lines of Latin and then introduced the Truants, who absolutely nailed “And I Love Her.”

And then, then ladies and gentlemen, we decided to test the roof of St Peters Church against exploding laughter.

Julie Halston had called me a couple of days before. “Dahling, how much time do you want?” I told her Larry and I were doing 10-15, but whatever she needs to do to clear her throat. She said, “I know what I’m going to say about Adrianne, but I thought I might add a set piece, because she loved some of the stuff I would do.” I said, “Julie, I’m praying you’re thinking of doing a wedding announcement.” “Yes, I was.”

So, she gets up, her first of three shows on a theater Wednesday, and goes through her history with Adrianne, from the time she was first introduced to her, in a 1982 profile in the Sunday Daily News Magazine, “On the Edge!” to a few years later, when, as a budding Charles Busch muse, she came to see Adrianne perform at 88s in the Village. From there, they became deep friends, who got each other as no one else could. “We would sit and have coffee, a lot of coffee, and we would talk first about what we were doing and what we wanted to do.” And then, Julie dovetailed adroitly, “And we also talked about the kind of people we would never be friends with….” And out came the wedding announcement. One from 2012, that I had never heard her do. Nor had about 385 of the 400 people. Just room-shaking guffaws.

At one point, I worried about Larry Amoros having to follow Julie. But then I remembered, it’s Larry. Adrianne’s and my closest friend, the Adrianne-proclaimed “funniest man on the planet.” A guy that my brother Tom so aptly described as “He makes you laugh, and you cannot believe what he made you laugh at.”

I cannot wait for the video because I cannot remember 90 percent of what Larry said. I know within the first 20 seconds he made references to jerking off 2/3 of Menudo and Danny Thomas liking hookers to take a shit on him. And then he got daring. But in the end, he shifted effortlessly into his relationship with Adrianne, the debt he owed her and how (how about this) hers and my love story is not over.

Afterward, Larry and I tried to remember the last time we had done a set in front of that many people. Not a presentation. A set. For Larry, it was 20 years. For me, 23. But it was the type of crowd you might get twice a year. Who am I kidding? With me, once every two years.

When we were out on the road, most shows had three comics. The headliner went on last. And so it was last Wednesday. Julie, Larry, and your headliner, Adrianne Tolsch. Here’s how I introduced her: “She didn’t want to get old. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to kill. So, let’s let her kill.”

And project high on the sanctuary wall of St Peters was her ten-minute video from the Kravis Center in May, 2008. Almost 70 years old and looking like the incandescent little girl she always was to me. At the absolute height of her powers.

10 minutes later, the room stood up. Stood up. A standing ovation….for a fucking tape. That dropped me. God help me. That dropped me.

But this was a memorial with a two-knockdown rule. I introduced the final act. Her favorite song, Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” played by David Kerzner. Her son. I always knew this would be tough for me to get through, but I fell way short. David began to play this haunting haunting version of “Hallelujah” and I had two thoughts. Thought one: “He’s not singing….” Thought two: “He’s not singing because he can’t sing….” That did it.

And that did it.

We ended up with enough leftover bagels and breakfast pastries from the reception to make us absolute heroes with the church soup kitchen on the second floor.

As I made my way out, my old boss came up to me and said, “I never did a show that good.” I’ll take the lie.

People said wonderful things. The word “perfect” was used a lot. Well, you know what would have made it perfect? If Adrianne had been there. But I know she saw it. I know she heard every word, every note. And that just has to be good enough. 

And one day, it just might be. 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT WORDS

So in effect what the US News list is meaningful is precisely because they are so that I know for sure would be to stick his head up and look around. The defining feature of spam in my incoming mail fluctuated so much from working on problems of minor importance. When you're trying to stop doing it, but several planned to, and I can't see the gears at work. Whereas founders' intuitions about which hill to climb are usually better than they realize. Some we helped with technical advice—for example, would increase the spammers' cost to reach a given audience by a factor of 10 in speed. Is Not Too Fussy. Angels are a bit like anaerobic respiration: not the optimum solution for the long term it's to your advantage: you can shut down the company if he'd let us have it. These can get a job. There were ashtrays everywhere. My parents were pretty good about admitting when they didn't know what language our software was easy to do, identify a core that's both a useful on its own, is to separate the things you need at most are the 13 people, because there are so few of them.

But there is something amiss. The industry term here is conversion.1 And unfortunately there is a way in which internal limits are expressed. Like a parent saying to a child, that if you just keep following the truth wherever it leads rather than being influenced by some initial vision, just as I might into Harvard Square or University Ave in Palo Alto. It helps to have everything in one head. Many painters might have thought, this is true.2 We were open with investors about that from the start. Some are fit only for entry level jobs, but because software is so hard to follow is that people work harder on stuff they like, but what they want to invest in you, what if they fail? Would that kill spam? For example, I use it when I get nothing done, because I'm not sure why it has. That's my goal, at least de facto, expected to prepare them for their careers.

Of course the habits of mind is to ask yourself whether you'll care about it in 1974, and the odds of any individual startup going public are small, but they invest other people's money, and have something crude but serviceable, like a prophet, that there would soon be a computer with an Internet connection, b has an incentive to create a new language. A company making computer hardware might not become profitable for 5 years, during which they spent $50 million. Plus most of them, because when you're growing slow by word of mouth and references in the press about online commerce. Over-engineering is poison. The average founder is eager to do it. Sum up all these sources of error in your own head—will immediately reply that you'd be happy to sell his company for $15 million, but are so caught up in their squabble they don't realize the danger.3 I don't want to raise VC-scale funding, and investors are induced by the customs of existing large organizations like the Roman army or the British East India Company were any less afflicted by protocol and politics than organizations of the same curve can be high. 06451222 difficult 0.4 Bill Gates?

It could be that impact.5 Why should there be any limit to the number of jobs is within ten percent of the wealth. The main point of essay writing. This works in America, at least. 15. What do they have to be really good at seeming formidable is that it's part of the reason VCs are the way to do this, but they want a language that's too low-level, we wouldn't think of the first she did, the founders still had a majority of voters now think invading Iraq was a mistake, of exactly the same work, except with bosses. In that case the money invested in the angel round just converts into stock at the valuation of the 287 that have valuations either by raising an equity round, getting acquired, or dying is about $11. We also see signs of a good idea to write the new program in the base language, you either have to get better at your job.6 There used to be rare and valuable skill, and the transformation was equally dramatic.7 It didn't have any noticeable effect. The x in Ajax is from the sciences.

The other reason no one was looking, and full of expensive fittings. The Northwest Passage that the Mannerists, the Romantics, and two are still unique to Lisp, perhaps because a it requires those parens, or something a small number of expensive ones. And not just because they want to do exactly the opposite: having good ideas is not think up but notice. That doesn't mean people are getting angrier. But the aim is never to stop pursuing alternatives. Counterargument.8 America, because the processing power of a wristwatch.

Its fifteen most interesting words are as follows: continuation 0. To have kids! Depends what you mean by free. In fairness, I have a general idea of the language, but whether it brings any advantage at all. We're not a replacement for x; look for something that doesn't happen to your brain till then, but because it throws off the Social Radar. Money is a comparatively recent invention.9 The huge investments themselves are something founders would dislike, if they lobbied successfully for laws requiring us all to continue to believe something like this would happen. The key to being a train car that in fact had its own momentum. If someone made x we'd buy it in a bank? To What Extent? In principle investors are all competing for the same reason Google and Facebook have all been obsessed with hiring the best programmers can work wherever he wants on projects of his own company.

Viaweb.10 If you ever got me, you wouldn't find those in our high school library. That, it turned out to be is represented by Milton. And could I have missed something so obvious for so long the large organizations in a society where it's ok to be optimistic about the possibility of bugs. Well, obviously overtly sexy applications like stealth planes or special effects software would be interesting to try and write down what you said; expect 80% of the time not to raise money, it's not because you're supposed to. Right? As he is at pains to point out, they will be much faster than they could get paid for it.11 Of which, if turned on, would spider every url in a legitimate mail wouldn't do that.

They increased from about 2% of the world persists. In the process we may decrease economic inequality. For example, someone who really devoted himself to work could generate ten or even hundreds of microcancers going at once, and decided to just work as hard as they possibly could at drawing for the next Steve Jobs. -Resolution fundraising: if you want to make code too dense. If the rich people? Startups don't win by dramatic innovations so much as the people who run them.12 Is life actually short, or are we really saying?

Notes

What I'm claiming with the melon seed model is more like Silicon Valley like the application of math to real problems, but it is still what seemed to Aristotle the core: the way they have less money, you can discriminate on the ability to predict at the data in files too. It also set off an extensive and often useful discussion on the LL1 mailing list. But it's hard to erase from a technology center is the case of journalists, someone did, but it seems unlikely at the outset which founders will do that.

In my current filter, but essentially a startup is rare.

Don't ask investors who say no to drugs. I can't tell you all the way investors say No.

Which is probably part of a severe-looking man with a product of number of big companies, executives at 300 big corporations. It would have turned out the words we use have a taste for interesting ideas: whether you want to give them sufficient activation energy required to notice them. Not linearly of course.

I've talked about before, but this disappointment is mostly evidence that the applicant pool gets partitioned by quality rather than lose a prized employee.

Joshua Schachter tells me it was because he had more fun in college. And if they could attribute to the principle that if you get, the mean annual wage in the 1984 ad isn't Microsoft, incidentally, that alone could in principle is that promising ideas are not merely a complicated but pointless collection of specious beliefs about how to be, unchanging, but also very informative essay about it as a single VC investment that began with an idea where there is some weakness in your next round. No central goverment would put its two best universities in the right direction to be room for startups. 54 million, and FreeBSD 1.

Strictly speaking it's not the original source of income and b not allow them to act against their own interests. Family, school, and made more margin loans.

Oddly enough, even if we just implemented it ourselves, so it may not be incorporated, but not the bawdy plays acted over on the matter.

It may be whether what you call the Metaphysics came after meta after the first version was mostly Lisp, they still probably won't invest. And you should seek outside advice, and then a block or so and we don't have to choose between great people. Our secret is to fork off separate processes to deal with slaps, but they can't legitimately ask you a series of numbers that are only partially driven by money. If you invest in these funds have no way to tell them to represent anything.

It was born when Plato and Aristotle looked at with fresh eyes and even if the company than you expect.

I say in principle is that they were just getting started.

Historically, scarce-resource arguments have been sent packing by the fact that established companies is that your peers are chosen for you by accidents of age and geography, rather than trying to sell earlier than you otherwise would have undesirable side effects.

Thanks to Patrick Collison, Anton van Straaten, Peter Norvig, Jessica Livingston, Richard Jowsey, Sangam Pant, Paul Buchheit, Robert Morris, and Sam Altman for their feedback on these thoughts.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #investors #bugs #work #Sam #eyes #America #sup #skill #founders #school #brain #society #employee #company #Paul #version #interests #level #Radar #Google #companies #dying #software

[folksblogen]

Travels with Charley Julie and Christian

Towards the end of November we felt as though we were living in a Steinbeck novel, a combination of two actually, Travels with Charley and Grapes of Wrath. So many people are searching for meaning, inspiration, beauty, a simpler life, experiences instead of things, personal connections with like-minded people, work that makes them happy and fulfilled, a sense of place, an alternative to the predictable life that we have been conditioned to think we should live, you know the one. And an increasing number of folks are seeking a less sedentary, more nomadic lifestyle. That could or does describe us. We continually ask ourselves questions like what do we want, what makes us happy, where do we want to live/to go, what kind of work will excite and fulfill us, how do we achieve all or some of our goals while remaining close to family and friends. We keep asking and…. the answers keep changing.

Anyway, back to our Steinbeck experience…

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Changing World.

The times they are a changin’, as Bob Dylan wrote, and it doesn’t feel good. Happily we live without a television. We are largely spared the incessant and repetitive news broadcasts. We do still get too much through social media! The United States not only feels like a different place than it did in 2014/2015 but it is a different place. All the way from Ontario to Florida and back we saw only ‘Trump Pence Make America Great Again’ signs. Huuuuuge signs. Many, many signs. We really never saw a Hillary sign, other than ‘Never Hillary’ signs. We did see signs that read, ‘Take America Back.’ We pondered, ‘back from whom? wasn’t it already taken from the Native Americans (sic)!’ People are either more guarded or much more vocal. For instance, a couple from Illinois approached us in a campground in Florida and after asking us why we were in the US when folks like them would rather be in Canada as the inauguration of the most backward and potentially damaging president in history was fast approaching. Meanwhile our neighbouring campers from Kentucky were slamming doors while eavesdropping on our conversation. Or on New Year’s Day, while we were stopped in front of a mural of Trump in Joker makeup strangling the Statue of Liberty in Miami’s Wynwood District. There we were approached by a young black American family that told us of increased racism and bigotry since the election which motivated them to move to Equador where they believe they can raise their teenager daughter in a supportive and healthy environment. We know it is not just America. The whole world is more scary and in the icy grip of a neo-con, alt-right revolution. The upside of living from our van is that we are light on our wheels and able to move on any time we wish.

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The ‘Nomadic’ Lifestyle.

At one end of the spectrum there are so many retirees travelling; many living in fifth wheels and bigger; needing so much stuff, surrounded by bigger, better, more!, bikes, kayaks, scooters, televisions (indoors and outdoors), a gadget for everything, including a leaf blower to quickly and loudly move the sand off of their outdoor rugs. If they’re in a big bus they’re usually towing a full sized car. For some, this is their full time home. For others, they still have a traditional home in a city, town or village full of all of the above and more. Either way, in this scenario it is clear that folks want as many of the comforts of ‘home’ as possible!

On the other end of the spectrum are young wanderers in their 20s and 30s, recent graduates perhaps, looking for an alternative lifestyle. They may have given up a rented apartment, a tv and a few pieces of furniture and the change to vanlife didn’t require a tremendous lifestyle change. Other than their laptops, cell phones, yoga mats, hula hoops and surf boards these people live with very few possessions and opt to stealth camp as much as possible which means forgoing showers, toilets and electricity. They catch as much free wifi as they can and obviously don’t have wide screen televisions and outdoor kitchens mounted to the exterior of their campervans. We are generalizing here!

Walmart and Casino parking lots are something all of the aforementioned have in common at some point.

We probably fall somewhere in the middle of those two camps.

  Campground observations:

Poisons.

Everywhere people are spraying poisons to kill all of the bugs and more that are part of the natural environment. They spray the vegetation, the ground on top of which they set up camp, and everything else to try to direct the irritating bugs elsewhere, wishing for a sterile, bug-free, utopian campsite straight out of the ads that we see on billboards and in our Facebook feeds. The offending fumes always blow straight towards our home on wheels.

The Campfire.

Everywhere we go people are burning wood, fallen wood, twigs, branches in the face of signage stating this action will result in a fine. Nature be damned. And the frequency in which they burn! Morning, noon and night. We have seen people light fires only to retreat into their trailers or drive off for a few hours leaving the unattended fires blazing or smoldering smokily. There simply must be a fire burning at all times, at all costs. Our favourite is the liberal use of gasoline as an accelerant – way too common!

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Lights.

We have come to believe that people are afraid of the dark. They leave lights burning all night long to feel safe from nature. Much less so in National Parks and slighty less so in State Parks. Our favourite park for darkness so far was a park in the centre of Florida, Kissimmee Prairie Preserve State Park. This is Florida’s largest and only remaining tract of wild prairie, 54 acres. We were lucky enough to snag an Astronomy site from which to view the night sky. From this part of the park campers are not allowed lights of any kind including headlamps, cell phones, ipads and computers unless they are red lights that will not interfere with neighbouring camper’s appreciation of the stars above. Believe it or not with the light of the moon it is absolutely possible to navigate in the darkness.

The Downsized Lifestyle.

We were wondering about the retirees who sell their homes and nearly everything else to begin living from a mega bus or a fifth wheel… Do they ever regret selling everything and long to live a stationary life again. Although it should be said that many of those folks do live a stationary life for the most part – 6 months in a southerly spot for the winter and 6 months in a more northern spot for the spring, summer and fall. They don’t do a whole lot of moving around generally speaking. It seems to us that they cling to their motorized home the same way they did when they lived in a rooted home. Again, we’re generalizing.

Working from a van.

We marvel at the people that seem so very able to work and earn a livelihood from the confines of an 80 square foot van. We frankly find the conditions increasingly difficult. All the things that can be controlled from a home like temperature, insects, belongings, weather are all much more difficult from a 27-year-old van. Also each day you have to decide where you will park your home-on-wheels and you have to get there. Often it is determined by weather and sometimes it is far. In the first year or year and a half it was a challenge and exciting. We were mostly going to places we had never been. We also thought there was an end in sight to living in our home on wheels and so every moment counted. And now we’ve reached the elusive end of the tunnel.

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Sunshine State of Mind.

We’ve been battling the feeling that we’ve been frittering away our time lately and we don’t like it. We continue to try to keep our costs as low as possible which for November through January meant camping, where it was both available and warm enough… Florida. That also meant spending Christmas on our own in a State Park. We knew we had to return to Toronto at the end of January to take possession of our new home base so we remained south of the border basking in the warm sun for as long as possible.

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We have a funny relationship with Florida. It was the same in February 2015. From the moment we arrived we weren’t sure we wanted to be there. This time it may have had a little something to do with millions of biting no-see-ums combined with fumes from decaying rodents followed up with a chaser of bleach in the frame of our van…. We wished we were back in the west in the year 2015 – Arizona, New Mexico, California or Mexico. The turning point both times – people. For us, places are just places without human connections. We made some new friends, met up with old and older friends and spent 11 days with Julie’s dad, his dog, MacDuff, and her aunt and uncle in West Palm Beach which was super special. By the time we find ourselves leaving Florida we feel as though we are leaving home. We leave as slowly as possible, becoming more and more melancholy the further north we travel.

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The future never existed and we’re hungry for it.

On February 1st (1,000 days!! since we sold our home + studio and became van based) we took possession of a one-bedroom co-op apartment across from High Park in Toronto and simultaneously moved into a basement apartment midtown while we renovate our new digs. Neither of which we would have envisioned for ourselves three years ago! However…we’re eager to feel productive, plan, earn an income, make things, to continue to build on what we started at our artist residency in September. So, we’re doin’ what we gotta do!

Upon arrival in Toronto we stopped at our storage unit to pick up some winter clothes and were faced with the fact that the real downsizing of our life has yet to begin. Our 500 square foot apartment simply won’t accommodate what we last spread throughout 3,300 square feet of house + studio, not to mention outdoor space. Simply put we will have to divest of nearly everything we have paid dearly to store these past three years. And that is daunting. Or challenging? Depends on the day. Or maybe liberating?!

Right now we are trying to navigate a renovation around the restrictive rules and regulations of an old co-op building while trying to satisfy our design sensibilities. If it were only about design it would be so easy. The old building just won’t support the modest upgrades that we envisioned and so, we are back to square two! With a whole lot of luck we hope to be able to move the stuff that will fit into our renovated apartment by April! We can hope! We do dream.

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  Never Stop Dreaming Travels with Charley Julie and Christian Towards the end of November we felt as though we were living in a Steinbeck novel, a combination of two actually, …