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First Post After Lurking for ...10 years?
I've spent so many years reading posts on this subreddit that I figured perhaps it would be more enjoyable (or slightly less lonely) to participate and contribute. So a little about me...okay, this list is long so #15 I'll try to summarize up to the present. Please forgive me/offer constructive writing criticism.
- I have a third nipple, or as I like to call it, a "thnipple". Wikipedia the term "supernumerary nipple", Mark Wahlberg has one and somehow makes me feel cool through nip association
- I'm left-handed with drawing and writing. However, I play sports and instruments with right-hand dominance.
- I'm legally blind as shit (-8 to -9.00 in both eyes)
- I was born with X-linked ichthyosis, which means I have to slather my entire body in lotion every day in order to not look like a human reptile with sandpaper skin.
- Due to strict Asian parenting and my less-than-stellar academic performance in elementary school, I wasn't allowed to have video game consoles. Instead, I was given a Windows 98 computer the year they came out. Three cheers for Nintendo emulators, Napster, Final Fantasy VII, shitty realplayer videos of DragonBallZ overdubbed with songs by Blink 182, accidentally discovering Hentai, and the general deviance associated with using the internet unsupervised as a kid...perhaps they should have just gotten me the video game console?
- Grew up getting my ass kicked at home while attending public school after the height of 9/11 as a brown kid...is this why I listened to so much Korn and Slipknot in elementary school?
- An entrepreneur at heart, I got suspended in middle school for selling pirated watches and DVDs. Oddly the teachers who bought my fake Rolexes were not punished. Perhaps the $20 fake Rolex that stopped working after two days was enough punishment..
- Got my first guitar in 7th grade. My strict brown parents gave in after I played "Aerials" by SOAD on a $10 Hawaiian ukelele 500 times a day for months.
- Start smoking weed every morning at 15. The Mars Volta sound amazing on my $10 Wal-Mart CD player. My entrepreneurial spirit leads me to begin my drug-dealing career, buying my first ounce of beasters for $120 from a relative, bringing it home and selling 8ths for $40 because the other 15 year olds say its "chronic". Man, beasters, mids, chronic...don't y'all 90's babies miss the terminology and pricings for weed that were around before everything became medical? WHERE DID ALL THAT BEAUTIFUL HYDRO GO
- Shrooms at 16, you know how it goes...laughing at 3 AM listening to E 1999 Eternal, only Bone Thugz can go from talking happy barbeques to doing drive-bys. Watching Sasha Grey porn while her nipples and belly button appear to be a face, usual shroom shit.
- Age 17: Adderall, Ritalin, Cocaine. Pre-Amphetamine SAT score: 1680; Adderall 30 mg XR SAT score: 1920; 54 mg Concerta ACT score: 32. Not bad for a lifelong C and D student! Commence life-long amphetamine addiction.
- Age 18. Two separate class-mates give me their ADHD meds every morning before class for free (why did they do this? lol) Nothing quite like seeing a 90 pound 6 foot tall high schooler "speed" walking around on both a 30 mg Adderall XR and 54 mg Concerta every day for a year...unsurprisingly my $10 walmart CD player goes from Prog Rock to HOUSE MUSIC 24/7 OONTZ OONTZ BISH
- When you're a depressed college freshman (probably partially the result of abruptly ending a year-long run on Ritalin and Adderall), it may seem like a good idea to take a 10-strip of LSD every weekend, in search of some life-altering epiphany. Unfortunately, it just exacerbates how awful the world is while giving you tracers and visual hallucinations that persist for months. You may record amazing music though! Cue psych-ward visit.
- Age 19, 2010...a year defined by consuming and selling large bags of Xanax bars, large shipments of BK-MDMA, and large jars of dispensary bud. Become disturbingly addicted to sniffing mountains of methylone alone in my room, usually upwards of a half gram every weekend. Have one of the worst overdoses of my life when trying to eyeball 20 mg of 2C-C after sniffing a gram of bk-MDMA...eyeballing anything is stupid, but even more so when you're eyes are wobbling into another dimension. I ended up consuming 200-250 mg of 2C-C, in a capsule mixed with 200 mg cocaine and 500 mg bk-mdma...downed with grapefruit juice because I'm an idiot. This is after having already sniffed a gram of BK-MDMA. Still not sure how I survived that, to be honest.
- This list is waaay too long, so I'll compress 2010-present here. Sold pounds of methylone until a kid tries snitching on me. Become completely sober for 9 months before relapsing by using heroin for the first time. Then meth. Then resume my addiction to drug dealing by ramping up and adjusting operational security, proceed to sell a quarter-pound of MDMA every weekend, hundreds of Dutch E pills, benzos. Become a heroin addict, start dealing shit to my hood-ass dope dealer. Over time I lose my personality, patience and kindness, becoming a sociopathic drug dealer with a disturbing appetite for substance abuse. Spent a decade fluctuating between what felt like two personalities, the empathetic thoughtful sober version of myself, and the cold, heartless persona that fiends for lethal polysubstance combinations and large drug transactions, with zero remorse or consideration for others.
Over the course of a few months, I went from 145 lbs to 117 lbs, would contemplate shooting myself in the head every morning, was always depressed/anxious/irate, and would constantly feel like I was going to have a heart attack or stroke due to vasoconstriction (my daily intake of 40 mg vyvanse and a juul pod probably didn't help). Despite all the negative effects, I could not handle the soul-crushing depression of coke withdrawal with my school/work schedule..few things are as bad as feeling as though something is very close to killing you, yet not being able to handle the effects of quitting. In desperation, I decided to use heroin to help cushion the blow of depression that comes with using cocaine daily for 6 +months.
That was January 2019. From January until August, I was living a one-day loop, a Groundhogs day sorta thing. Selling drugs constantly to support my gram a day heroin habit. Being dope sick, doing embarrassing shit like projectile vomiting in restaurants. Waking up on the floor from overdoses. Over the course of those months, my mental health slowly deteriorated into a state of delusional thinking. I was disappointed in myself, deeply unhappy to find myself yet again in active addiction while every meaningful aspect of life fell to the wayside. After mindlessly eating an 8th of shrooms one day, I became suspicious of everyone, and started thinking they had ulterior motives for interacting with me. With no heroin left (and no energy left to continue the cycle) I locked myself in my basement and started sniffing coke and ketamine in hopes off alleviating the severity of the heroin withdrawals, which somewhat seemed to work despite being a moronic idea. In my delirious state, I failed to look at my phone or even think about the rest of my family, who had been calling each other all over the world trying to figure out what was happening to me (if I was alive).
Finally the cops broke down the door and entered the basement with my dad, seeing me half-naked/unintelligible, coming out of a K-hole while on day 2 of heroin withdrawals, surrounded by blister packs of pills and pill bottles full of powders. Miraculously, the police didn't arrest me and left my father and I alone. Having experienced a lot of physical violence with my dad during my upbringing, I braced for impact. Instead, for the first time in my life, I saw my father cry. Granted, it was for like 5 seconds before he regained his composure lol, but somehow it finally opened my eyes to what I was doing, not only to myself but to all the people around me. From the age of 15 until 27, I'd traded my aspirations, relationships, and goals for fast money and hard drugs, and I was finally sick of it. I didn't want to be that person anymore. I quit my heroin, cocaine, and klonopin addictions cold turkey that day. Hoooly shit was that withdrawal surreal, I literally couldn't walk for a week. One thing that really impacted me during my withdrawal was watching the film A Beautiful Boy. To me, that is the most accurate film depiction of addiction I'd ever seen. Even though the protagonist's situation and drug use was different from mine, it felt as though I was looking into a mirror watching how it affected his interpersonal relationships and life goals. The film also lets you see addiction from the perspective of the addict's family, which is deeply sobering. Makes you realize how much of a self-absorbed ass you were as an addict. HIGHLY RECOMMEND for anyone struggling with addiction or substance abuse.
Since that event, I have continued to take a 30 mg Vyvanse every other day, although I hope to slowly wean off over the next few years (have gone from 70 mg down to 30 in the past two years!) I've used THC distillate, just one or two puffs around bedtime. While it has been tremendously useful in withdrawal, becoming THC-free is my last goal. After 5 years of chain-smoking, and two years of constant Juuling, I am nicotine-free as of this past Friday, October 25th. I gotta say, nicotine withdrawal is definitely on par with coke or heroin withdrawal, really struggling with the mental fog/depression/anger. But I'm three days in, and physically I already feel so much better!
If you've actually read this far, wow, I don't think I would've written all this if I wasn't fiending for my juul. But yeah, I have a great interest in (and a whole lotta experience with) addiction, recovery, mental health, neuroscience/pharmacology...my friends like to call me a cockroach, because I have survived some unbelievable scenarios and drug combinations, so looking forward to telling the crazier stories and experiences over time. Ima stop typing now.
TL:DR, First time poster, long time polysubstance abuse and dealing, currently in the process of getting clean and living a meaningful life!
First Contact - Part Six
Nuklet looked at his bridge crew and hummed in satisfaction. He had put together an excellent crew, all skilled in multiple disciplines, with education far exceeding what was culturally norm and a desire to see what was beyond the borders of the Outer Rim Civilized Systems.
They had chosen a small system, with a dim red dwarf star and only two gas giants and four standard planets, only one within the habitable green zone where life could be reasonable expected to be found. That planet was dangerous, covered with seas flush with heavy metals dissolved in corrosive liquid H2O, and the small proto-continent covered in jungle where the sharp mountains didn't rake at the sky. The atmosphere was full of CO2 and O2, high in nitrogren, and the ground was laced with radioactives.
A dangerous planet but one that could be exploited for wealth and prestige by those willing to commit to it.
Nuklet smiled as his cousin, Putmit, alerted the crew they were about to leave jumpspace after nearly a standard year. Nuklet had invested wisely in recreational facilities for the Far Grasper so that the ship could make the best time through jumpspace and reach the system.
The translation to realspace made the entire crew nauseous, but excitement over the prospect of exploiting an entire system that had been untouched even by the Precursor War pushed away feelings of ill-will.
Fammit, a scan-tech who had served ten standard years with the Unified Military Fleet, looked up from his instruments and frowned in the way his species usually did, shrinking his bark-sack and slapping his tail.
"Problem?" Nuklet asked.
Mitikak, the Akltak communications officer suddenly jerked upright, her wintips going to her communications headset. "Captain!"
Nuklet turned to the Akltak female and raised his four eyebrows. "An emergency?"
"There is a strong signal, the omnitranslator is working on it. Some kind of audio message with a visual component," Mitikak chirped.
"Keep on it," Nuklet said. He turned back to the Saurian. "What is the problem, Fammit?"
The lizard male tapped his display. "There's heavy energy signals, there's debris around the primary planet, and what looks like two large spaceships in orbit around that planet."
"Do we have visual on them?" Nuklet asked.
"I'm receiving multiple signals from the planet, as if the communications are omnidirectional, unencrypted, and unshielded. The omnitranslator has been able to translate the most common transmissions," Mitikak broke in.
"Putting the visual on the main screen," Mitikak said.
On the screen the planet was shown. Parts of the jungle were burning. There were large conical metropolises, four of which were burning. On two different windows on the main viewscreen were the orbiting spaceships. One was massive, with ominous architecture, kilometers long, with what looked like statues of strange beings with their hands pressed together at their chest holding up various parts of the massive ship. The other looked as if it was cobbled together from debris taken from a hundred junkyards and a thousand debris fields. The jumpcores in the twelve engines, all seemingly slapped onto the hull at random areas, were all mistuned and leaking energy in ugly purple halos.
Both ships gave the entire bridge crew various symptoms of anxiety. Their appearance was menacing and both were on opposite sides of the planet from one another but still appeared to be maneuvering in order to bring the other into firing arcs.
"The signals are ready," Mitikak said. She shuddered and Nuklet noticed that her feathers were pressed close, her wings close, and she was squatted down slightly. "I warn you, it sounds like a nest war down there."
"Let us hear them," Nuklet said.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!"
"PURGE THE XENOS!"
"STOMP DA HUMIES!"
"CRUSH DA SQUISHIES!"
Behind the roared words were the sounds of laser weapons, stuttering kinetic weapons, the detonations of artillery and explosives.
Nuklet made a chopping motion, urging Mitikak to cut off the feeds. His kind were no strangers to violence. After all, only two hundred years ago nearly three thousand of his kind had lost their lives during a fierce trade war.
But the raw aggression from those transmissions made him quail back in his crash-couch.
"I have another ship on scanners," Fammit said. "They're rapidly approaching"
"They're signalling us," Mitikak said. "The omnitranslator can understand them."
"Put the new ship onscreen and let's hear what the new ones are saying," Nuklet ordered.
The new ship was sleek. Black with a pair of engines that had gold energy pulsing from them. It was rapidly approaching, flashing small lights in the red range of visual lights.
The translator crackled and the new ship's communication blared out.
"Hey, who are you?" One voice asked.
"This is a sanctioned league game! That isn't even a Codex recognized ship!" Another voice asked.
"Both of you be quiet," A stern voice said. There was a throat clearing noise. "Greetings, gentlebeings. I am Hammond-83132, a registered and accredited Judge of the Clone Directorate Branch of the Judge's Guild. May I ask your intent?"
"We hold the exploitation rights to this system. Who are you and are you jumping our claim?" Nuklet said, half rising from his couch.
"Hey, we leased this place five years ago for our tournament!" The first voice protested.
"Be silent or I'll deduct the next one of you to speak eighty army points and delay any clone respawn by six hours," The Judge snapped. Again with the throat clearing noise. "Pardon, gentlebeings. The two competitors are under a great deal of tension. We were not aware of any other claim on this system. This is a sanctioned league game registered with TerraSol Judge's Guild and the Battle-Hammer Entertainment Craftworks League Administration."
"What league?" Nuklet asked. He wondered if the omnitranslator was working correctly. There seemed to be terms that it was having problems translating.
"The Battle Hammer forty-thousand League, Clone Worlds Directorate Branch," The Judge said. "We're in the middle of a sixty-thousand point game here."
"A... a game?" Nuklet asked.
"Space Marines versus Orks," The Judge said. "It should be wrapped up in say, six years or so."
"But we bought..." Nuklet said.
"What about the outer planets?" Pontik asked, the amphibian clicking his tongue in anxiety.
"Are you using the other planets, the asteroid ring, or the Oort Cloud?" Nuklet asked.
"The game has gone beyond those areas. Let me consult with the players," The Judge answered.
There was a long moment of silence. Mitikak pointed at the screens.
"I have several feeds from the planet. It's largely encrypted but one is unencrypted if you wish to view it," she said.
"Put it on screen," Nuklet ordered.
The screen showed a pitched battle between forces. One massive, with green skin, wearing cobbled together metal plates painted in wild patterns of red and green. The other figures in power armor, thick and heavy plates, all in red fighting alongside hordes of smaller bipedal humanoids dressed in green armor and wielding laser weapons. Both the ones in power armor and the ones in the flimsy looking green armor had icons of some kind of fierce looking bird on their chest. When Nuklet looked at Mitikak the avian female just made a gesture of confusion.
Nuklet noticed that the sheer unbridled violence was making several of his crew ill, even though he himself and Fammit were fascinated by it.
"Shut it off, Mitikak. We've seen enough," Nuklet said.
They all sat in silence for a few more moments before the Judge returned to the com-line.
"I may have a compromise that will be acceptable to both parties. You, being the party of the first, the two competitors being the party of the second," The Judge said. "If you agree to my arbitration I will waive all fees as you are a First Contact species in return for the right for full claim to First Contact on behalf of myself and the Judge's Guild."
Nuklet thought it over. The idea of having to pay a fee to this Judge was an anathema, but having fees waived for something that he did not know the value of also disturbed him.
Still, he wasn't sure what else he could do.
"I agree to waiver of the fees and your conditions," Nuklet said, taking a risk.
No risk, no profit.
"Both currently tournament engaged players agree to grant you planetary salvage rights once the clones go offline," The Judge said. "Additionally, they grant you salvage rights to the debris fields."
Nuklet's eyebrows raised. Salvage rights, now they were talking.
"In return they receive the right to continue their competition on the planet's surface and within it's orbital area for a period of six more years or until the tournament competition is finished, whichever occurs first," The Judge said.
"Six years?" Nuklet asked.
"Yes. I am forwarding the timescale according to radioactive particle decay so that we are using the same time scales. Additionally, they grant you license to view the game in raw data without paying license fees, should you be so inclined," The Judge put in. "If you need any assistance, just let them know. Their shipboard cloning banks are running at optimum in case you need manpower."
Nuklet was hardly listening. Salvage rights and free assistance!
"What about the cities?" Nuklet asked.
"Once the clones expire when the license runs out, we'll leave the cities behind instead of disintegrating them, if you want to salvage them too," the Judge said. "As for the military equipment used by the clone soldiers, it's old-tech, but you're welcome to the materials. After all, it's just materials, not much use in our post-scarcity Confederacy. The technology is not on the First Contact xenospecies prohibited access and trade list, so there is no legal reason to prevent it from being part of the salvage deal."
Nuklet didn't understand the last part, but the idea of scavenging and salvaging those huge conical cities made his claws grasp greedily at the arms of his command chair. He also liked this Judge, it spoke a language he could appreciate.
"Very well," Nuklet said. "We will exploit the Oort cloud, asteroid belts, and the planets outside the one your, ahem, game is taking place on."
"Agreed," The Judge said.
Nuklet rubbed his hands together.
Salvage rights to alien tech!
"I am transmitting the legal documents now. As a gentlebeing's agreement, the game shall continue while you review the terms and conditions of the Judge's Guild legal agreement," The Judge stated.
"I look forward to examining your terms and conditions," Nuklet said, feeling the surge of excitement at dealing with an unknown race's legal code and agreements.
"Very well. I look forward to working with you. Please feel free to contact any one of me, should you need further assistance," The Judge said.
Nuklet barely heard the last part, engrossed in reading the dense legalese of the contract that had just been sent to his displays by Mitikak. The longer he read, the more he hummed with pleasure.
Any rule and technical specific lawyer who could come up with this thick of an agreement was someone that Nuklet was happy to meet.
When the crew of the Far Grasper returned with word of a game played by masters of cloning technology on whole planets, involving short life clones, the Unified Science Council could scarcely believe it. Despite the technology brought back, crude but highly effective, mostly geared toward war and resource extraction, the Unified Science Council was loathe to believe that this so called "Clone Directorate" could exist, much less would be so cruel as to create clones just to force them to fight in a tournament.
However, the video logs were incontrovertible and the fact that the crew of the Far Grasper had somehow learned the rules to this cruel and barbaric "Game" and played it on computer driven holographic boards and EVR, all pointed to the fact that this "Terran Confederacy" had not given up cloning over its obvious moral and ethical considerations.
The Unified Military Council pointed out that the willingness to create cloned soldiers gave the "Solarians" and the "Terran Confederacy" and the "Clone Directorate" massive manpower advantages.
The words of alarm from the Executors were being listened too more and more.
FROM: JUDGE'S GUILD
TO: CLONE DIRECTORATE INTELLIGENCE
CC: CONFEDERATE INTELLIGENCE
Encountered a ship outfitted for resource extraction and exploitation at Hartfield-221 System. Previously unencountered xenosapients, seven xenospecies total. Most were unwilling to purchase rulesets or holo-patterns for proper tournament play. However, three species found Tournament play to be fascinating, although they are currently only at the level of holoplay, not Realplay.
Have included recordings of small talk, discussion, and play of those three species.
Are requesting permission to attempt marketing for primary tournament games and a Judge's Guild representative.
CC: Artificial Biological States; Digital Artificial Intelligence Infonet Worlds; TERRASOL.GOV; Cyborg Cooperative; Clone Directorate; Mantid Free Worlds; Traena'ad Hive Worlds
All subjects within the Long Dark that are not Confederate actor intelligence service agents are ordered to withdraw with the exceptions listed in the attachment.
FROM: JUDGE'S GUILD, TERRA HQ
TO: ALL JUDGE'S GUILD STATIONS
SUBJECT: LONG DARK TOURNAMENTS
All tournaments must be cancelled. System rental fees will be refunded. Games in progress will be listed as a draw and all points and fees (not including Judge Rental Fee) will be refunded.
(Sorry for the quick ones. Tonight's shift has been BUSY)