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eliasbouchardisarobloxthot · 4 years

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chapter 1 of an au i am writing

this is jokingly titled “power of friendship au” in my doc, but that’s essentially it - tim, sasha, and jon (for now) team up while they’re all still interns to befriend all of the creatures they meet! the timeline is obviously a bit different from tma canon, but it will still be mostly non-spoiler. this chapter in particular has only mid-early season one spoilers, so you all should be fine! as usual, under the cut...

"We are not supposed to be doing this," Tim hissed, but he made no move to run.

Jon wasn’t listening. The box of cigarettes in his hand was nearly crushed, but he stood his ground as they made their way to Old Fishmarket Close.

"Do you really think we're gonna—" Sasha's voice wavered. "I mean, the file in Gertrude's office said it’s not—it isn’t always there, right?”

“We’re going to find it,” he said resolutely. The hills were high, higher than any of them had expected, but they managed to make their way up to the alleyway that was listed on the map.

It was dark out. Jon convinced them all earlier that day to come with him and help after they left for the night, and Tim was doing a very bad job of hiding the fact that it made him incredibly nervous to be out this late. The streets were nearly empty—at nine o’clock on a Tuesday evening, no one was going to be out and about.

A quiet voice echoed from in the alleyway—”Can I have a cigarette?”

Sasha screamed. In her haste to wrap herself around Tim for safety, she nearly hit him in the face. Somehow, though, Jon stood his ground.

“You can have a cigarette if you come out of the alleyway. We know what you are. We just want to talk.” He set the pack of cigarettes down just a bit out of reach, then sat down in front of the alley with his legs crossed. “We can wait here all night.”

“Wait, what? Maybe you can, but some of us have work tomorrow. Or have you forgotten about our literal job? The one we met at? Earth to Jon, but we do still have to work. In the twenty minutes it took us to get here, capitalism as an institution has not yet been overthrown.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” Jon sat there staring at the alleyway. “Come out of the alley now, please.”

His stare was incredibly intense, seeming to cut through the darkness obscuring the figure and illuminate the alley. As they sat there in the alley, a voice that was most certainly not the one from before—and was also certainly not human—echoed out from the alley.

“Fine.”

“Come out where I can see you,” Jon said.

The vaguely human silhouette in the alley warped and twisted, changing from human to inhuman in barely a second. It skulked out of the alley, sitting down across from Jonathan.

He could see how from certain angles it could maybe look sort of human. If it tried. It reminded him of one of those optical illusion sculptures in museums—from one angle, it looked like a giraffe, from the other two elephants. Except from one angle, this thing was human, and from the other… well, most definitely not.

“Do you have a name?” Jon asked. Somewhere, quiet static hummed.

“No,” it said. “You call me the Anglerfish, though.”

“Do you want a name?”

“Maybe. If you pick a good one.”

“Louis,” Tim said.

“Felix,” Sasha said at the same time.

“No,” the Anglerfish said, decisively.

“You’re a fish, right? What if we just call you Ariel?” Sasha tilted her head to one side, thinking hard. “You look like an Ariel.”

“Ariel as in The Tempest?” Jon asked, looking confused. “I mean, sure, the water reference is there—”

“Ariel as in The Little Mermaid, you fucking idiot,” Tim said with a sigh that could have shaken the city down.

“Never seen it.”

“What’s a mermaid?” the Anglerfish asked, testing the word out in its human voice.

“Oh my god. Firstly, your name is Ariel now.” Tim pointed at the Anglerfish. “Secondly, you get a pass for not knowing because you’re a spooky monster thing. Thirdly, Jon, how have you not seen The Little Mermaid? Did you just straight-up not have a childhood?”

Jon didn’t reply.

“So we’re going to my apartment and renting it off Netflix and—I can’t believe I’m having a slumber party! I’m not a kid anymore… but it’s necessary. Objectively speaking.” Sasha looped her arm through Jon’s, pulling him to his feet.

“Are we sure this is necessary?”

“Yes,” Sasha said, glaring at Tim. “I think I actually have some microwave popcorn we can make, do a full movie night.”

Jon sighed, following Sasha as best he could.

“What’s a movie?” Ariel asked quickly. “What are those?”

“You have a lot to learn,” Sasha said, with a wide grin. “But if you like it here and want to talk about it more, then… well, you can just chill with us!”

—

“What did you say your name was again?”

“Patel? Amy Patel?”

“Alright, Amy, and do you think you can tell me some more about how this all happened? I know you gave your statement to Gertrude already, but—”

“Oh, no, it’s no trouble,” Amy said, gesturing into her flat. “I moved, but I still have my address down if you want me to give it to you. And, er, the flat that used to be Graham’s, I can get you that address too if you need it.”

Sasha shook her head. “You don’t have to give us all that. Just by letting us in you’re doing enough already.”

Amy smiled in that bemused sort of way that older adults tended to smile at younger ones, with a look in her eyes that said something like “who are these little children and why are they trying to be professional around me?”

“We should—I should have introduced myself.” Jon gestured to Tim and Sasha. “That’s Tim Stoker, this is Sasha James, and I’m Jonathan Sims—we work with the Magnus Institute, under the head archivist. We’re only interns, though.”

“I’d noticed,” she said. “Come on, sit down. I’ll put on some tea if you’d like?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Sasha said before the others could interject. “Now, can you tell us a bit more about your experience with Graham?”

“Oh, well, where to begin,” Amy said, pouring milk into a saucepan on the stove. “I mean, I’ve told you basically everything in my statement already. You contacted me saying there was an update a while back, but honestly I’d almost forgotten about it. The whole thing. It was a few years ago now, so… yeah.”

“Alright. Um. Do you—can you tell us anything about what you do now? Like, the sorts of jobs you’ve been doing, or—”

“Yeah, uh… yeah. Like I said in my statement, I do statistical analysis mostly. Been taking a few more classes sort of in the field of criminal studies—” she waved her hand— “all that sort of stuff. I actually did take a liking to it, might try working with that sort of stuff in the near future. I’m already looking for applications."

"That's very interesting, Amy," Jon said, fidgeting with the packet of cigarettes in his pocket.

"It really is," she said as she strained the chai, setting four mugs on the table and sitting down next to them.

Jonathan had taken the box of cigarettes out, and was now shaking them absentmindedly a few centimeters away from his face as he thought.

"Oh, can you not smoke in here?" Amy asked quickly. "It's just—my landlord hates when people smoke inside, we have an area over outside for it—"

"I don't smoke," Jon said, looking somewhat confused. Sasha took the cigarettes from,him and put them in her pocket.

"They're for our friend Ariel, Jon just carries them for it."

"It?" Amy looked more confused than ever.

"She eats them," Tim explained. "And she told us to call her 'she' in front of other people, Sasha."

By this point, Amy had taken a long drink of chai.

"You kids work with monsters. Right? All those things in the statements. Other people have to have given statements, there's got to be some others that are true."

Jon nodded solemnly. "We've been looking into other cases with provable aspects—yours does, by the way, we know yours is at least partially true."

"How comforting," Amy said with a wry smile.

“And… well, this is going to sound very bad, but I would prefer it if Tim stopped sleeping with people to get information.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

Amy laughed. “So you’re asking me to help you get information. Right?”

Jon nodded, having started to fidget with the cuffs of his shirt once Sasha had taken away the cigarette box.

“I mean, I do have access to quite a few databases. If you wanted my help, though, you’ll have to promise something.” It sounded like she was talking to some unruly teenagers.

“Certainly.” He tried to look as professional as possible.

“Please just take care of yourselves,” Amy said with a sigh. “You guys are just kids and you’re running yourselves into the ground, and you’re putting so much work into this—I’m scared you’re going to either get hurt by one of these things or hurt yourselves trying to befriend them.”

“I—” Jon tugged at the button on his sleeve for a moment. “I understand where you’re coming from here, I really do, but there’s, there’s just so many and I want to give them a chance. Because we still have to—if there’s any chance they’re a good person, deep down, I want to help them.”

Amy sighed, leaning back in her chair. “If you’re serious about this—”

“We are,” Sasha said quickly.

“Then I’ll help you.” She picked up a pad of paper sitting on the table and scribbled something on it in smooth, curling handwriting. “That’s my phone number for my work phone, just call it if you need anything. I usually have it on me.”

She thought for a moment. “Give me a sec. You’ll want this.”

Leaving Jon, Tim, and Martin alone at the table, she walked into her bedroom and returned carrying what appeared to be a very old, very worn-out three-ring notebook. There were dividers of various colors separating things, a bookmark that was just a piece of ribbon stapled into the spine, and a label on the front that read “MONSTERS”.

Jon flipped through it quickly, looking through the sections. The dividers were labeled with different numbers, and at the front was a table of contents with each number labeled with a small explanation of each different number.

“This is incredible, Amy,” he said, turning the pages reverently. “There’s so much detail here—this could be more than we have at the Institute, really.”

“Well, I have had a bit of help,” she said amusedly. Opening up the cover, she moved her hand over something inside and set it down on the table. As she did, the inside cover was revealed.

“Is that skin?” Tim asked, looking disgusted. “Ew.”

“What, am I too gross for you?” a voice suddenly said. Sitting on Amy’s sofa was a man who looked to be about Tim’s age, with his hair long and poorly dyed black. All of his joints were tattooed with tiny open eyes, and he wore dark eye makeup in circles around his eyes that trailed down his face. The clothes he wore were ripped and tattered, but it was obvious that they had at one point been a t-shirt for a band, a leather jacket, and a pair of dark jeans.

He was also hovering several feet in the air.

“Nice to meet you, everyone,” he said with a grin. “I’m Gerard Keay, and I used to work for your boss.”

Jon stood there open-mouthed for a few moments. “Sorry, what?”

“I used to work for Gertrude. That’s your boss, right? She still there?”

“Yeah, she’s still there. Uh, just—you’re a ghost, aren’t you.”

“Yep,” he said, leaning back to hover above the couch with his hands behind his head. “They taking the book with them, Amy?”

“I think so. Because, well, they’re—I think they’re more able to investigate these things than I am.”

“Shame,” Gerard said with a sigh, pushing off the wall and sighing. “You were cool. Plus you didn’t mind if I listened to music on your phone while you worked.”

“You can still see me sometimes,” Amy said with a laugh. “Not like I’m dead. And besides, that wouldn’t really be too much of a problem, would it?”

Gerard rolled his eyes. He very pointedly turned away from Amy and looked at the interns, hovering in a cross-legged position in the air. “Well. My life is in your hands now. I mean, not really life exactly, I’m still dead, but my existence is in your hands. Don’t fuck it up.”

“We won’t,” Tim said.

“Well. This has certainly been informative.” Amy moved closer to the door. “Thank you for giving me Graham’s old notebook, and for a very interesting discussion. I assume I’ll be hearing from you shortly?”

“Yes. I think we’ll start at the beginning? What’s the oldest entry you have in this book?”

“That’d be… the one right at the start of section three for distorted reality. He likes to hang out in graveyards, you’ll probably be able to find him pretty quickly. Blond hair that’s all long and frazzled-looking, tall, kind of thin—if you see him in a reflection or through glass he looks tall, unnaturally tall, and his hands look all gross and creepy.” She shuddered, moving to open the door. “You still have my number?”

“Yep.” Sasha held up the page.

“It’s really been lovely,” Jon said. “Thank you.”

“No problem at all,” Amy said. “I’ll see you all soon.”

thats all folks! thank you so much for reading it. i may upload chapter 2 soon, but that is it for now!!

#text #fanfiction #original work

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forkergirl · 6 years

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There is only one Thing sustaining me through this mess, My Thing. And he knows this; I don’t know what I would do without him; I really don’t.

He is not a rich mean, but only the best , man I know for everything , especially me. And I have only my favorite picture in the world to show “Us” together in our “US-ness, and I must insert that photo here, for it represents everything I have dreamed of; he really is the man of my dreams, and I am so glad he exists. \

You know what helps me get through this mess, just knowing that he exists, that he is part of my world.

This is the best moment of my Life!

and, of course, “No One in the World”

I can’t forget the Rapture:

Dear Dr. Chaudhary,

I am sure that you recall the surgery you performed on me in July 2011, the surgery that saved my life—I always thank you, and the University of Michigan demands that I repay all the money they overpaid me. The SSDI department acknowledges that this is their mistake. They do not celebrate my most unusual survival but expect me to repay every penny that why overpaid me. Their own mistake. I attach documents received from this very university.

If you would not mind lending me me some support, I would greatly appreciate it. It is nearly 2018, and they are hounding me even more.Perhaps I will have to send these documents to the Attorney General of Michigan, but I would like to have support form you before I gather the these documents to send. I would like have a document from you amount what I send. Being from 2011, this incident is very old. I will begin 2018 tying to eliminate, finally, and and for all, this incident from 2011.

This is what I have including some photos of how I was,

July 2011

and the move of my rover when I had to learn to walk again and talk again:

and you should still have the poem, “Aneurysm of the Firmament” that I wrote with my best friend. And this became the title poem of an entire chapbook we wrote together. The Cover is attached, and he rest of the content. This is an ebook available only on Amazon

and via my Amazon author page

a small gathering of poems in response to many things when the sky ruptured! (mostly through responses to writings of Thomas Higginson and Tardis Universes: the day I became a Whovian again)Thylias Moss ANEURYSM OF FIRMAMENT Piñata sky broken, ruptured! –what stick hit it? — what cosmic event cracked it open? (–good thing it did!–) –comets and more rain of treats light itself showers down BRIGHT beltsropes a boxing match light swirls into poles & other delights –such RUPTURE my brain the sun in the solar system I amRUPTURED! solar flaressolar winds & even more!the sun becomes a red giant,& I direct traffic!from the center of Botticelli’s paintingthe birth of brown Venus, sheer sparkling gauze over me as Gallifrey burnsBuckwheat’s hair on fire–fountains of luminous combustion!13 Doctors healthis blazing epidemiceach regeneration of the Doctor has himproduce spiky burning armsfountains of illuminated spikeseach a protrusion from the head of a hijacked Cameroonian stink ant! sparklers pinwheels kaboom, kaboom, kaboom moreandmoreDaleksfall no rupture, and no light!something has to break!Part 3comets have to fall, and fall hard, into Midnight Sun, 1961 Twilight Zone –optical illusion dimensions –sun enlarges and enlargesimminent end of Earth. At last… Poor Norma… Last one left in apartment building –blood is boiling –rupture is about to happen –I will bleed again, a crazed menstrual cycle (Norma was dreaming, sick and feverish –escaped the chill really going on –either way, Earth in atypical orbit):–post-menopausal now, so this blood comes from my head:this is the way the world endsall condemned by existencelightning illuminating those veins in the ceiling that is firmamentGallifrey all lightning; seems to exist only when there’s hocus pocus of fire … but this time, Gallifrey is saved, by Time Lords, who? Doctors, that’s who! all combining their strength, like streaks of light, deep freeze on Gallifrey, Gallifrey home! –there is no other!–light of battle breaks out –planet is surrounded by belts of illumination! –the brain that this salvation is breaks –writing is on the wall –that none of them want:NO MORE! NO MORE! left with guilt of responsibility of billions of deathsGallifrey protected by ice, cold but just as brilliant, scintillates away and away and awayThe most splendid rupture ever! Bring on rupturing aneurysms! –changed my life, just as they should!Shake up this firmament! -shake it to the east, shake it to the west, shake it to the one you love the best.Frozen with Gallifrey is also hope! –hope that sparkles down transfiguredlands in tea cups… a sweet prescription, full of inspiration, hope of inspiration and inspired healing! –sweetened by rays of light, spikes of rapturous (freebie) aneurysm, bulging veins, like thermometer bulb about to pop;healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure:Hello again, Norma: welcome to Midnight Sun salvation:my aneurysms, one repaired, and the other: ready to blowsky high(part 3a)Poor Amybroke, ruptured 23 July 2011 –crackedsame day one of my own cranial aneurysms ruptured, broke in (that burglar)my head… repaired! –I have the beautiful scars, staple holes, unintentional scarification; hair grown wild around them, cleats werestationed there. one more aneurysm: timebomb! ticktock ticktock, ticktock hickory dickory dock :Hickory, dickory, dock.The mouse ran up the clock.The clock struck one gleaming, glistening aneurysmrhythms of light;and then there was, you knowhow it is, how it’s always been, howit will bethe brilliant repetitionsky highGallifrey falls no more–

in response to: “If you See something, Say something” –Thomas Higginson “If you See something, Say SomethingBanana” white shadowcrescent moonWax (ing)Wax bananaWax grapes, applesin bowlsOn my mother’s dining room tablelunchkitchen sinkI see this alsomy father washing dishesscalding waterhis skindown the drainplates clean, heavenly,full of banana water spotswe eat the shadows.two of whichare my father’sdiseased lungsyet I float on cloudsinto such a clean, pure kingdomthat nothing else mattersjust a banana which I eat the moment I arrive.Buddhain suds.NAKED NIGHT: a eulogy (Thomas Higginson: STOP 3 with: italic origami by Thylias Moss)Not trying to impose, just trying to build structure, form, recipe for holding, folding holdstogether: we’re made of this –is that not a purpose of bones inside: give shape to this, bones even buried inside the planet, treasure, pre-history and present becoming “now”, elusive “now” elephants in rooms, closets, “protected avenues” –must plow right through, forceof Indian elephants, never forgettingorigami of whywe’re here: “you and I for-ever pur-pose of purpose maybe is foldingbuilding structure, training wheels for elephants who must sink and swimKronos armies, TV sets with legs on the Mexican beach (made in Mexico, you know) — the ghost sea is so great, origami ocean, crumples and wrinkles like skin ofelephants poached ivory, white as ghosts, Caspar –they cannot survivepur-pose for-everTo set in motion the secret boat so small, canbarely cut can barely poach (now you’re cookingwith gaschambers, now the alchemy)barely cut, dice and chopthe wave, wave me down, flag me down, I need some helpthis flat tire: get me to the church in time.The way is pretty durn milky universe, Kronos: destroyer of the universe, Shiva’shalf-brother, half sister, only half (circus freak) eats power stations, eats swords nuclear energy, appetite not deterred by radiation, prefersglowing food: the better to see it, better to taste itswallowed a journey throughglowing throat, such illumination; how beautifuldeath is when mandatorypur-poseIf you know what I’m saying –can’t be late for my own salvationin the darkpraying the Breton Fisherman’s prayer, fisherof men, half and 3/5ths, not choosy; they come from “Fisher Street”laundry hanging in the backyards, alleys,lynched men hanging cleanFels Naptha, water hot enough to dissolve skin”float on, chug on, chug, chug, chug… dark holesof memory dissolve into anothermeltdown, why not meltup sometimes?touch hems of angels? –unless they dissolve from justthe touch of dirt?lake of crocodile tearsfrom elephant eyes, such mergers: meaning of eulogy, thickcoming together just to come apart:gallons and gallons of bleach…enough to abort everyone, those old ways, tried and truepur-posecontamination of all water, evencrocodile tearsbible tells me so true blue, true mootill the cows come home – reactor corebreakdown pur-pose into cowing, kowtowing–those industrial farms where cows don’t know what it means to be cows, kowtowsjust elephants in these squeezed rooms, moo-ing and everything milked, Cause I don’t you maySing this one back to me –I sing back bones, structure, skin of these things dissolving, slipping away…elephants in the room dissolving into shadows, holes, Bonnie Raitt’s music to dissolve to, to technicolor to: “I Can’t Make You love me, only dissipate, tractor away, tractor back, trapeze effects all –house of trapeze, curtain rods, fuel rods in nuclear power plants, hungry Kronos on the rampage

–can’t make you love him –just like a man of pur-pose, scattering his power everywhere, meltdown after meltdown, pur-pose floats, black rain, mere Ivory soap, but this is dirty, pure dirty floating bombs, new Moses-types in baskets…–we build structure; as if that’s enough to hold everything together, sound of motor, motor-song, little speedboat, hurry, hurry the message, in case it’s all praise –not enough pur-pose for that anymore “The poem that floats Its message across The land that recedes –like memories, elephantized memories To the stars themselves glowing hot nuclear meltdown cores of The recipients” contaminated hothouses!” –hot in here! The poem curves a line to you –wormhole of 97 realities Floats a word back That’s the way we rock the world : jazzy funeral dying 97 elephant trumpetspur-poses (these like dolphins, elephants of the see pur-poses To sleep. In the naked night,The ocean wears a hat — hat; I wear your hat of fallout pur-pose too: 97th shadow of 97th elephant in the room:”I know I cannot live without you”so I don’t live; just dissolve and exist that way, 97 puddles singing giving everything back: reflection after reflection after reflectionof endless depth, a tophatto top off everything, make itpurty… purty, purty…contaminated, pur-ty pur-poseis as pur-ty does.Shadow Cycle: Shadow dance shadow dancer shadow kiss master shadow of ornette shadow sister mister shadow dark fraught fragile shadow canopy shadow of all power ambiguous shower shadow do be it you shadow in the moon shadow of eclipse shadow lips lapse shadow down shadow of shadow’s shadow Tap-dancing Response: Tap-dancing shadow tears inside always inside perpetuity ornette shadow lengthens connecting to so many other shadows so shadowy that there’s nothing but shadow to link everything linkable what is casting it ornette shadow so powerful that it casts most of existence balanced on a compassionate tear inside tear inside shadow tapdancing to get to them all, a hop here, a jump there, 5:01, a second of tapdance salute to irregularity of tears as dark as a shadow shadow of a tear falling falling rolling down shadow’s shadow inside a tear.Extended:Shadow tether, shadow lifeline, shadow attached, shadow traveling, shadow dropping, weight of shadow, shadow home eclipsed by shadow wanderer itinerant shadow adjusting fitting, shadow accommodating, shadow of world shadow drowning, shadow rescued, ornette shadow stretching, electric shadow, boomerang shadow inside boomerang tear, shadow going nowhere another shadow, shadow, shadow knows Caspar friendly ghost shadow just as dark, maybe not as long yet as ornette shadow, shadow sound, walking, walking, walking lips around a horn shadow lips shadow horn shadow sound shadow echoes, shadow echoes, walking the line…Lengthening Shadow Detached:Now the shadow slips loose of its tether; detached, seeking its own venture, separate from ornette yet still on journeys, lengthening into an infinty, black as all good nite, Caspar friendly ghost shadow even better friendly because of the split, multidirections, one of which leans towards sunshine, black sun, one tornadic, spinning, restless, friendly or not, ornette shadow or not, loose, loose that man and let him go, let him run free, run for his life, for every life, run prairie in darkness, sundial shadow, shadow time, hammer time, slip knot, curly shadow, curls of good nite, lurk, prey prays the shadow loose….Detached onthego Comets:Mix match Ukraine swatch batch mystry mischief art part never partsIllumination would be ill could be illest to the fullestMinistrations banister falling devoid of grit and gathered hem for paucity touch tough gone and back clippercomets have to fall, and forth.Alternative Ballast Ballet:Chernobyl shadows even sky, last hope of mischief power plants art of planting power, Pripyat breakfast of champion hems and has, fringe, rough edges woodpeckers, beaks touch remnants of doors, rush, stuck, xylophone methods, alternative ballast balletA First Response (there may be others) poem to Thomas Higginson’s poem: “How to Wake Up””How To Wake Up1. Go to sleep”2. Don’t die! –3. Hire an exorcist, root worker, witch doctor, gypsy, conjure person, hoodoo woman, also my local rocket scientess who blasts away all evidence of doubt4. Easier said than done, so much keeping me awakepillow under my headsleep mask –red one–bull!bulls charging the muletaover my eyesand now I see stars, red giants, and all otherhatseven better…So much glowing, so muchtickling of lifeAs soon as possibleall that caffeinehas other ideas…2:00 amI’m still awake!with my learner’s permit!I play an album of lullabiesbut I’m really listeningand really listeningkeeps me awake.I’m really touchingthe sheets, thinkingwhat a sarong5. for the Java man missing links6. sleep itselffor the Java man I have in the makingrememberingmy old singer sewing machine–never fell asleep on it, Tabanga nearbythat 1957 movie, “From Hell It Came”what my father and I called “tree monster” –not once falling asleep…5. certainly not in college6. where those all-nighters7. seemed to make differences8. passed those tests anyway.9. somehow10. screaming and screaming 11. of course12. Remembering and even becoming13. Frankenstein’s best monster:14. “I’m alive, I’m alive!”15. “Dough rises for meno matter how I treat it, how I punch it.Loaves line the counter like closed coffins,Something I never want is to wake from a long sleephungry” (chicken in)SIONON EPOCHpart 1great word of honorthy motherwith Popeye’s chickendelivered by wise persons300 miles away, only onesable to get exact Popeye’s mama wantslove those biscuits! –like mama used to makein her dreamsalthough extremeinsulin dependent diabetes, hyper-tension thyroid so out of control as ifshe no longer has onepoor baby poor baby no matter how old one becomes stillsomebody’s baby(though no longer a dreambaby)Dreams have not stopped, butno longer baby dreams –these dreamshave maturedas Popeye Doyle detectives, break dream rules,whatever’s necessary to catch drug smugglersdrunken Popeye’s chickentastes even betterand even fights God, a Cerullo godsomehow better than any other god cabinets of medicinediscarded, uselessprescriptions, a real Goddoesn’t need themyet everyone, dreaming or who stops relying on power of medicineto heal and stave offeffects of aneurysms and much worsediesome same night that Amy Winehouse goes back to blackbabies, no

ut think aboutis Jesus, dream man Jesus, three days in the tomb of impossibledreams, even the dream of dying someday, wet feetand all, cans of spinachin the store (aisles) frontof Towels from old boxes of Breeze detergentlaid downby none else than Jesus look out for wolves,the taste they have for succulent little lambsso willingto lay down at dream feetthat can walk on the lake of firethat burns even better when it’s cold, as crystals forma dream of my hand, heel as pure crystalsdream crystalcrystallizing 61 crystals so farcandles on a cakemy frozen feet seem to have flakes from Popeye’s”fried chicken all over them,roughest skin on my body–no one dreams of that;not dream-worthy skin at allgeometries of these crystals, each a stegosaurus plate

–

-nosí o no?Siononstory of a dream kitchen with stegosaurus plates fine china–always yes to that, Popeyeson the sideburning, burning, burningupand burning downperfect, perfect burning….wisdom God gave me in a dream of giving me wisdomwise enoughto only dream only thatwhile Jesus laid her downwith wolves in Lake of Fire Amusement Park, Part 3:Little Pigshouse of straw, dream house of sticksbad dreams?síLittle Pig, Little Pig, a trinity of us, you knowwhat that means, Jesus will lay you down right at my feet,I just need something to eatfun times allLet me in,not by the hair of my chinny chin chinI’ll huff and I’ll puff thenbetter than any vacuumcleaner, till those houses come downwolf is still a windbag dream (coming true)when he goes to the third Pig’s dream houseof brickswasted, completely wasted huffing and puffing climbs down the chimney, inventsa form of Santa, Wolf in red suit from embers scrapinghis Frank Lucas-style fur coatthat he doesn’t have to removeto enter cauldron of boiling waterlid on untilBig Bad soup is as ready as a dream can ever be

Waking up againFirmament is still there.Sky is still there.(sorry Chicken Little sky fell up)Up isstill thereEven in the southern hemi-sphereupis still theresame up that I have (UPS is still there)Looking up

The bills from the University of Michigan itself:

Notice that payment for $100.00 –courtesy my Thing, but this by far not the only reason. He and I have been connected for 30 years, and like any other connection enduring so long, we have experience every emotion possible to experience, we have experienced, but we areaways together aaa=again, that palpable instant chemistry. I could say more

In your case, although retired, the obligation remained for you to follow through with your SSDI claim until a decision was rendered in order for us to properly calculate your past benefit entitlements under the UM LTD Plan.In addition to the reimbursement agreement you signed on 11/21/2013, you acknowledged, upon retirement and in writing, your responsibility to repay the LTD Plan if approved for SSDI. From January 2014 through January 2016, there were also numerous email communications and correspondence via U.S. mail to keep you informed of this responsibility.In January 2016, the Benefits Office learned of your approval for SSDI benefits – A closed period award beginning 3/1/2014 through 5/1/2015. As indicated in your SSDI Notice of Award letter, Social Security calculated your benefits due for this period as $36,276. However, they subtracted $6,000 to pay your attorney. Therefore, you received a lump sum payment from Social Security for $30,276.YOUR OVERPAYMENT & REPAYMENT TO THE UM LTD PLAN: A complete analysis of your UM LTD income payment history in combination with your monthly SSDI benefit reflects that you have been overpaid by the LTD Plan in the gross amount of $33,628 from 3/1/2014 through 4/30/2015. You may refer to the enclosed worksheet to see how this amount was calculated.Because you retained an attorney to pursue SSDI benefits, the UM LTD Plan will offset your gross overpayment by the amount that Social Security withheld from your lump sum SSDI award. In your case, Social Security deducted $6,000 out of your lump sum award to pay your attorney.The gross overpayment amount indicated above may be further reduced in your favor to offset for tax adjustments. The tax adjustment analysis to determine the net repayment amount is completed by the Payroll Office.In summary, you have been overpaid in the net amount of $27,292.56 as previously indicated in the letter dated 1/25/2016 from the Benefits Office. While the UM LTD Plan provisions state that lump sum repayments must be made within 30 days, we understand extenuating circumstances arise.Therefore, we can offer the following repayment options, which provide some flexibility, but also remain consistent with the LTD Plan provisions and what other LTD Participants have been provided.Repayment Option #1: Repay the amount owed to the university in one lump sum. In this case, you would have to repay $27,292.56. This amount can be honored as long as you repay the UM LTD Plan in lump sum by 12/1/2016.– OR –Repayment Option #2: Repay the full, gross amount owed to the UM LTD Plan over a 24-month period. In this case, you would have to submit monthly payments of $1,401.17 for 24 consecutive months resulting in a total repayment of $33,628 to the UM LTD Plan. By choosing this option, you will forfeit your right to receive the $6,000 credit for your attorney fees and applicable tax adjustments. We request your first monthly payment be made to the Benefits Office by 3/31/2016.You may make your lump sum payment by check, or your first monthly payment by check, payable to The University of Michigan. In the memo field of your check, please note “LTD Plan Repayment” and include your UMID number.Thank you in advance for your prompt response and attention to this matter. We ask you or your attorney to please confirm your selected repayment option via email to [email protected]. You may also use the enclosed pre-addressed envelope to confirm your repayment option and/or submit your LTD repayment.Sincerely,Meaghan HaasBenefits Manager, Long-Term Disability Program cc: William Crawforth—————I offer the entire content of the chapbook, “Aneurysm of the Firmament ” here, for saale on Amazon an an e-book here: ANEURYSM OF THE FIRMAMENTa small gathering of poems in response to many things when the sky ruptured! (mostly through responses to writings of Thomas Higginson and Tardis Universes: the day I became a Whovian again)Thylias Moss ANEURYSM OF FIRMAMENT Piñata sky broken, ruptured! –what stick hit it? — what cosmic event cracked it open? (–good thing it did!–) –comets and more rain of treats light itself showers down BRIGHT beltsropes a boxing match light swirls into poles & other delights –such RUPTUREmy brain the sun in the solar system I amRUPTURED! solar flaressolar winds & even more!the sun becomes a red giant,& I direct traffic!from the center of Botticelli’s paintingthe birth of brown Venus, sheer sparkling gauze over me as Gallifrey burnsBuckwheat’s hair on fire–fountains of luminous combustion!13 Doctors healthis blazing epidemiceach regeneration of the Doctor has himproduce spiky burning armsfountains of illuminated spikeseach a protrusion from the head of a hijacked Cameroonian stink ant! sparklers pinwheels kaboom, kaboom, kaboom moreandmoreDaleksfall no rupture, and no light!something has to break!Part 3comets have to fall, and fall hard, into Midnight Sun, 1961 Twilight Zone –optical illusion dimensions –sun enlarges and enlargesimminent end of Earth. At last… Poor Norma… Last one left in apartment building –blood is boiling –rupture is about to happen –I will bleed again, a crazed menstrual cycle (Norma was dreaming, sick and feverish –escaped the chill really going on –either way, Earth in atypical orbit):–post-menopausal now, so this blood comes from my head:this is the way the world endsall condemned by existencelightning illuminating those veins in the ceiling that is firmamentGallifrey all lightning; seems to exist only when there’s hocus pocus of fire … but this time, Gallifrey is saved, by Time Lords, who? Doctors, that’s who! all combining their strength, like streaks of light, deep freeze on Gallifrey, Gallifrey home! –there is no other!–light of battle breaks out –planet is surrounded by belts of illumination! –the brain that this salvation is breaks –writing is on the wall –that none of them want:NO MORE! NO MORE! left with guilt of responsibility of billions of deathsGallifrey protected by ice, cold but just as brilliant, scintillates away and away and awayThe most splendid rupture ever! Bring on rupturing aneurysms! –changed my life, just as they should!Shake up this firmament! -shake it to the east, shake it to the west, shake it to the one you love the best.Frozen with Gallifrey is also hope! –hope that sparkles down transfiguredlands in tea cups… a sweet prescription, full of inspiration, hope of inspiration and inspired healing! –sweetened by rays of light, spikes of rapturous (freebie) aneurysm, bulging veins, like thermometer bulb about to pop;healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure-healing-cure:Hello again, Norma: welcome to Midnight Sun salvation:my aneurysms, one repaired, and the other: ready to blowsky high(part 3a)Poor Amybroke, ruptured 23 July 2011 –crackedsame day one of my own cranial aneurysms ruptured, broke in (that burglar)my head… repaired! –I have the beautiful scars, staple holes, unintentional scarification; hair grown wild around them, cleats werestationed there. one more aneurysm: timebomb! ticktock ticktock, ticktock hickory dickory dock :Hickory, dickory, dock.The mouse ran up the clock.”

I DID NOT OVERPAY MYSELF!

I WAS DYING IN A HOSPITAL! HOW DARE THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN EXPECT ME TO PAY THEM BACK IN FULL FOR THEIR OWN MISTAKE!

Dr. Neeraj Chaudhary saved my life! It would have been better for the University if I had died, as I told Meaghan Hass, and Stacy Orban, of theUniversity’s Long-Term Disability which I refused to accept any more of once I was released on 9 October 2011

I did the right thing, but so what?

SSDI Debacle There is only one Thing sustaining me through this mess, My Thing. And he knows this; I don't know what I would do without him; I really don't.

#BUREACRACY #FAIRNESS #SSDI #TREATMENT OF RETIREES #UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

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