Dakota crossing chick fil a

I am so sick and tired of being alone man. At 33 you’d figure you’d have some success with dating and love.
I matched with a girl on a dating site and we hit it off pretty well. She was new to town and we vibed pretty well and I thought she was a really decent person. I tried my hardest to be cool and interesting and I took her to a couple of really fun events. Then on the drive back it happened. She just verbal diarrhea and she confesses that she’s talking to all these guys and sleeping with a handful of them and how she has a crush on a dude and was going to sleep with him soon.
Right now she’s hooking up with that guy. It’s my fault for catching feelings though. This always happens to me and I wish it would stop….Falling for people who come across as good people but totally vile inside and will break my heart. Before this it was a chick who dropped the bomb that she was in an open relationship. Chick before that did the exact same thing.
I really wish there were decent people still out there. But all the decent people are taken or just done with dating. And now I’m done. Finally giving up. 33 years of trying. You win toxic western culture. Didn’t think you’d break me but you did and now I’m scheduling with my therapist.

Kerillian has long been my least favorite set of careers and least favorite character. Cruel and indifferent to the others, dismissive of their deaths, and insulting to their gods, almost entirely unprovoked. It never seemed to be for laughs either, like Saltzpyre’s bigotry, just genuinely mean spirited. After the SotT release she became even worse, and I thought “guys just ditch her after missions, this chick is total poison”.
Within the last year though, it feels like there’s been a slight change. It’s like the End Times are becoming “real” for her and put an end to her snarky teenager phase. An immortal who has to grow after realizing her life does in fact have an end. It’s becoming less of an angsty cynical “nothing matters” attitude and more “I’m about to lose literally everything”.
Her forest and her gods have tricked her, and turned her into a tool. She confesses as much to Bardin of all people. Her lines about human captives have become Much more sympathetic, and not in a backhanded way. Be’lakor revealed her intense guilt over the human deaths brought about by her mistakes. She admires Kruber’s brutish bravery and indifference towards personal sacrifice. Sienna “gets” her. She understands Bardin’s value as a friend who knows what it’s like to be an elder race among humans. She even begrudgingly accepts that Saltzpyre’s god might be valid and his zealotry isn’t misplaced.
The layer of sarcasm and obnoxious personality traits are fading away like old paint. She does her best to keep up appearances, but the warmth has become much more clear. I’m so glad this character has grown so much after nearly a decade, after the end she might actually be missed, and she won’t perish alone and misunderstood.

Insta-killed by a blatant wall hacking POS in Resurgence Solos. Dropped in again and he shot me out of the sky before I could even pull my chute. So I spec’s this pathetic little chump stain. Reported every one of the 21 additional kills he got whilst watching, so I could at least pretend I could get rid of a cheater. He continues on, casually auto-aiming and shooting people out of the sky with his Orion camo’d Hemlock and Lachman Sub (really, dogshit? You need meta-weapons with hacks?). Typical tracking through terrain and building, blasting people in the head as soon as they stepped out from cover… the usual cheaty garbage. As he wiped out everyone, save one other player before the final circle even started closing, he went right to the location where the final player was… only to be flashbanged and killed!. It was so great to watch. 27 kills and died to someone with 3 kills (per chat).
Hopefully, the POS fails to navigate a sharp turn on a steep mountain road at some future point, but let’s keep our fingers crossed and pray he doesn’t accidentally take out any wild life or nice trees as he tumbles over and over down the cliff face, before bursting into a loser inferno.

I can never find a job that’s easy for me to work for at and enjoy doing. I did have one job that I loved and it was working at Pizza Hut as a delivery driver but then my boss got fired wrongfully because they wanted to cover up their tracks of doing something illegal and put in a new boss that trastes everyone like shit causing most of the employees to leave if they didn’t do things his way. (I think he got fired eventually because I don’t see him working there anymore.)
I keep going to job to job and it’s the same thing the work can be hard and sometimes I screw up because I can’t focus or remember certain things and I get in trouble for it. I even almost got fired because I couldn’t show up on time I’m not an morning person. But they kept me because they say I was a good worker even though most employees or management also treat me like shit. I finally quit when that new job made me feel like doing suicide.
I got a new job my therapist recommended me and it’s pretty good management is nice, open, and accepting. And I get three days off. But the problem is I have to be crossed trained on too many things and it’s hard to remember and focus on all of them. And then they keep switching me around even though they already assigned me to a spot. What’s the point of working there if they are just gonna keep moving me. If you don’t want me to work at my asignes spot just say that and put me in a place you do want! And it stresses me out because some positions are the worst positions.
It’s great I get threes days off during the week but the job stresses me out and I almost feel like quitting. But I can’t because I need the money and I’m still currently working at my parents even though I’m 21. They get mad that I leave my job early (even if I have pto) or if I quit a job without having another one lined up.
They always think I’m lazy. I wish I could work at home but I can’t find any jobs that I like. I’m an artist and wish I could make a living doing commissions but I know it won’t ever happen..

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Taken from http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/12/14/when_jesus_met_buddha/ for the intellectual discussion purposely. Not for commercial gain
When Jesus met Buddha Something remarkable happened when evangelists for two great religions crossed paths more than 1,000 years ago: they got along By Philip Jenkins December 14, 2008
While few mainline Christians would put the matter in such confrontational terms, any religion claiming exclusive access to truth has real difficulties reconciling other great faiths into its cosmic scheme. Most Christian churches hold that Jesus alone is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and many also feel an obligation to carry that message to the world's unbelievers. But this creates a fundamental conflict with the followers of famous spiritual figures like Mohammed or Buddha, who preached radically different messages. Drawing on a strict interpretation of the Bible, some Christians see these rival faiths as not merely false, but as deliberate traps set by the forces of evil.
Being intolerant of other religions - consigning them to hell, in fact - may be bad enough in its own right, but it increasingly has real- world consequences. As trade and technology shrink the globe, so different religions come into ever-closer contact with one another, and the results can be bloody: witness the apocalyptic assaults in Mumbai. In such a world, teaching different faiths to acknowledge one another's claims, to live peaceably together side by side, stops being a matter of good manners and becomes a prerequisite for human survival.
Over the past 30 years, the Roman Catholic Church has faced repeated battles over this question of Christ's uniqueness, and has cracked down on thinkers who have made daring efforts to accommodate other world religions. While the Christian dialogue with Islam has attracted most of the headlines, it is the encounters with Hinduism and especially Buddhism that have stirred the most controversy within the church. Sri Lankan theologians Aloysius Pieris and Tissa Balasuriya have had many run-ins with Vatican critics, and, more recently, the battle has come to American shores. Last year, the Vatican ordered an investigation of Georgetown University's Peter Phan, a Jesuit theologian whose main sin, in official eyes, has been to treat the Buddhism of his Vietnamese homeland as a parallel path to salvation.
Following the ideas of Pope Benedict XVI, though, the church refuses to give up its fundamental belief in the unique role of Christ. In a widely publicized open letter to Italian politician Marcello Pera, Pope Benedict declared that "an inter-religious dialogue in the strict sense of the term is not possible." By all means, he said, we should hold conversations with other cultures, but not in a way that acknowledges other religions as equally valid. While the Vatican does not of course see the Buddha as a demon, it does fear the prospect of syncretism, the dilution of Christian truth in an unholy mixture with other faiths.
Beyond doubt, this view places Benedict in a strong tradition of Christianity as it has developed in Europe since Roman times. But there is another, ancient tradition, which suggests a very different course. Europe's is not the only version of the Christian faith, nor is it necessarily the oldest heir of the ancient church. For more than 1,000 years, other quite separate branches of the church established thriving communities across Asia, and in their sheer numbers, these churches were comparable to anything Europe could muster at the time. These Christian bodies traced their ancestry back not through Rome, but directly to the original Jesus movement of ancient Palestine. They moved across India, Central Asia, and China, showing no hesitation to share - and learn from - the other great religions of the East.
Just how far these Christians were prepared to go is suggested by a startling symbol that appeared on memorials and stone carvings in both southern India and coastal China during the early Middle Ages. We can easily see that the image depicts a cross, but it takes a moment to realize that the base of the picture - the root from which the cross is growing - is a lotus flower, the symbol of Buddhist enlightenment.
In modern times, most mainstream churches would condemn such an amalgam as a betrayal of the Christian faith, an example of multiculturalism run wild. Yet concerns about syncretism did not bother these early Asian Christians, who called themselves Nasraye, Nazarenes, like Jesus's earliest followers. They were comfortable associating themselves with the other great monastic and mystical religion of the time, and moreover, they believed that both lotus and cross carried similar messages about the quest for light and salvation. If these Nazarenes could find meaning in the lotus-cross, then why can't modern Catholics, or other inheritors of the faith Jesus inspired?
Many Christians are coming to terms with just how thoroughly so many of their fundamental assumptions will have to be rethought as their faith today becomes a global religion. Even modern church leaders who know how rapidly the church is expanding in the global South tend to see European values and traditions as the indispensable norm, in matters of liturgy and theology as much as music and architecture.
Yet the reality is that Christianity has from its earliest days been an intercontinental faith, as firmly established in Asia and Africa as in Europe itself. When we broaden our scope to look at the faith that by 800 or so stretched from Ireland to Korea, we see the many different ways in which Christians interacted with other believers, in encounters that reshaped both sides. At their best, these meetings allowed the traditions not just to exchange ideas but to intertwine in productive and enriching ways, in an awe-inspiring chapter of Christian history that the Western churches have all but forgotten.
To understand this story, we need to reconfigure our mental maps. When we think of the growth of Christianity, we think above all of Europe. We visualize a movement growing west from Palestine and Syria and spreading into Greece and Italy, and gradually into northern regions. Europe is still the center of the Catholic Church, of course, but it was also the birthplace of the Protestant denominations that split from it. For most of us, even speaking of the "Eastern Church" refers to another group of Europeans, namely to the Orthodox believers who stem from the eastern parts of the continent. English Catholic thinker Hilaire Belloc once proclaimed that "Europe is the Faith; and the Faith is Europe."
But in the early centuries other Christians expanded east into Asia and south into Africa, and those other churches survived for the first 1,200 years or so of Christian history. Far from being fringe sects, these forgotten churches were firmly rooted in the oldest traditions of the apostolic church. Throughout their history, these Nazarenes used Syriac, which is close to Jesus' own language of Aramaic, and they followed Yeshua, not Jesus. No other church - not Roman Catholics, not Eastern Orthodox - has a stronger claim to a direct inheritance from the earliest Jesus movement.
The most stunningly successful of these eastern Christian bodies was the Church of the East, often called the Nestorian church. While the Western churches were expanding their influence within the framework of the Roman Empire, the Syriac-speaking churches colonized the vast Persian kingdom that ruled from Syria to Pakistan and the borders of China. From their bases in Mesopotamia - modern Iraq - Nestorian Christians carried out their vast missionary efforts along the Silk Route that crossed Central Asia. By the eighth century, the Church of the East had an extensive structure across most of central Asia and China, and in southern India. The church had senior clergy - metropolitans - in Samarkand and Bokhara, in Herat in Afghanistan. A bishop had his seat in Chang'an, the imperial capital of China, which was then the world's greatest superpower.
When Nestorian Christians were pressing across Central Asia during the sixth and seventh centuries, they met the missionaries and saints of an equally confident and expansionist religion: Mahayana Buddhism. Buddhists too wanted to take their saving message to the world, and launched great missions from India's monasteries and temples. In this diverse world, Buddhist and Christian monasteries were likely to stand side by side, as neighbors and even, sometimes, as collaborators. Some historians believe that Nestorian missionaries influenced the religious practices of the Buddhist religion then developing in Tibet. Monks spoke to monks.
In presenting their faith, Christians naturally used the cultural forms that would be familiar to Asians. They told their stories in the forms of sutras, verse patterns already made famous by Buddhist missionaries and teachers. A stunning collection of Jesus Sutras was found in caves at Dunhuang, in northwest China. Some Nestorian writings draw heavily on Buddhist ideas, as they translate prayers and Christian services in ways that would make sense to Asian readers. In some texts, the Christian phrase "angels and archangels and hosts of heaven" is translated into the language of buddhas and devas.
One story in particular suggests an almost shocking degree of collaboration between the faiths. In 782, the Indian Buddhist missionary Prajna arrived in Chang'an, bearing rich treasures of sutras and other scriptures. Unfortunately, these were written in Indian languages. He consulted the local Nestorian bishop, Adam, who had already translated parts of the Bible into Chinese. Together, Buddhist and Christian scholars worked amiably together for some years to translate seven copious volumes of Buddhist wisdom. Probably, Adam did this as much from intellectual curiosity as from ecumenical good will, and we can only guess about the conversations that would have ensued: Do you really care more about relieving suffering than atoning for sin? And your monks meditate like ours do?
These efforts bore fruit far beyond China. Other residents of Chang'an at this very time included Japanese monks, who took these very translations back with them to their homeland. In Japan, these works became the founding texts of the great Buddhist schools of the Middle Ages. All the famous movements of later Japanese history, including Zen, can be traced to one of those ancient schools and, ultimately - incredibly - to the work of a Christian bishop.
By the 12th century, flourishing churches in China and southern India were using the lotus-cross. The lotus is a superbly beautiful flower that grows out of muck and slime. No symbol could better represent the rise of the soul from the material, the victory of enlightenment over ignorance, desire, and attachment. For 2,000 years, Buddhist artists have used the lotus to convey these messages in countless paintings and sculptures. The Christian cross, meanwhile, teaches a comparable lesson, of divine victory over sin and injustice, of the defeat of the world. Somewhere in Asia, Yeshua's forgotten followers made the daring decision to integrate the two emblems, which still today forces us to think about the parallels between the kinds of liberation and redemption offered by each faith.
Christianity, for much of its history, was just as much an Asian religion as Buddhism. Asia's Christian churches survived for more than a millennium, and not until the 10th century, halfway through Christian history, did the number of Christians in Europe exceed that in Asia.
What ultimately obliterated the Asian Christians were the Mongol invasions, which spread across Central Asia and the Middle East from the 1220s onward. From the late 13th century, too, the world entered a terrifying era of climate change, of global cooling, which severely cut food supplies and contributed to mass famine. The collapse of trade and commerce crippled cities, leaving the world much poorer and more vulnerable. Intolerant nationalism wiped out Christian communities in China, while a surging militant Islam destroyed the churches of Central Asia.
But awareness of this deep Christian history contributes powerfully to understanding the future of the religion, as much as its past. For long centuries, Asian Christians kept up neighborly relations with other faiths, which they saw not as deadly rivals but as fellow travelers on the road to enlightenment. Their worldview differed enormously from the norms that developed in Europe.
To take one example, we are used to the idea of Christianity operating as the official religion of powerful states, which were only too willing to impose a particular orthodoxy upon their subjects. Yet when we look at the African and Asian experience, we find millions of Christians whose normal experience was as minorities or even majorities within nations dominated by some other religion. Struggling to win hearts and minds, leading churches had no option but to frame the Christian message in the context of non-European intellectual traditions. Christian thinkers did present their message in the categories of Buddhism - and Taoism, and Confucianism - and there is no reason why they could not do so again. When modern scholars like Peter Phan try to place Christianity in an Asian and Buddhist context, they are resuming a task begun at least 1,500 years ago.
Perhaps, in fact, we are looking at our history upside down. Some day, future historians might look at the last few hundred years of Euro- American dominance within Christianity and regard it as an unnatural interlude in a much longer story of fruitful interchange between the great religions.
Consider the story told by Timothy, a patriarch of the Nestorian church. Around 800, he engaged in a famous debate with the Muslim caliph in Baghdad, a discussion marked by reason and civility on both sides. Imagine, Timothy said, that we are all in a dark house, and someone throws a precious pearl in the midst of a pile of ordinary stones. Everyone scrabbles for the pearl, and some think they've found it, but nobody can be sure until day breaks.
In the same way, he said, the pearl of true faith and wisdom had fallen into the darkness of this transitory world; each faith believed that it alone had found the pearl. Yet all he could claim - and all the caliph could say in response - was that some faiths thought they had enough evidence to prove that they were indeed holding the real pearl, but the final truth would not be known in this world.
Knowing other faiths firsthand grants believers an enviable sophistication, founded on humility. We could do a lot worse than to learn from what we sometimes call the Dark Ages.
Philip Jenkins is Edwin Erle Sparks professor of the humanities at Penn State University. He is author of "The Lost History of Christianity: The Thousand-Year Golden Age of the Church in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia -- and How It Died," published last month.
© Copyright 2008 Globe Newspaper Company.
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/12/14/when_jesus_met_buddha/

I have been a consistent runner for the past 2.5-3 years. However I’ve had quite a shift in weight in that time. Last October I had weight loss surgery and since then have lost over 130lbs and am still losing weight albeit more slowly.
I am a 32 yr old male. Current weight 206. I have been running more consistently lately at higher rates of speed and because of this am having trouble knowing where to draw pace lines in my training.
My current PRs are 5k at 27ish. Did it on a treadmill and have a race next weekend where I will shoot for 26min.
10kis a 55:40 and where I had a 5k race start 30 min after I finished (weird 15k race format but it’s a fun local race I’ve done for many years). 400ish vert
half marathon is a 2hr19:54. I did it at the marine corps half marathon which has a murderous hill in the last 2 miles that really slowed me (and everyone around me) down. 800ish vert in the whole race
My longest run since surgery is a half marathon. Longest I’ve ever done is 16 miles. I average 4 runs a week and between 15-20 miles. But with scheduling I’ll be looking at 4-5 days of exercise per week as I’ve been more relaxed the last couple weeks. I will be cross training with rowing and playing with my rugby club.
I have the marine Corp marathon in DC on October 29th. Which says 650ish feet of vert.
I’m wondering where I should aim when training for a marathon. I think my main goal would be to be under 5 hours. Does this mean I should prep to run at roughly at an 11:20 mile. Am I being conservative with the 5 hour goal?
Would it be easier for me to start prepping at a faster pace and the dial it back or should I stay reserved in preparation.
Ultimately with my weight loss and surgery effects I’ve had little issue with hydration even as summer has been ramping up. Carb intake is far harder for me and this has meant that my race prep meals are usually more protein based than carb. I can’t eat pasta or bread in any large quantities so nutrition could be a limiter.
I am nervous to commit to a plan and could use some wise sage advice on best plans and aspirations. I’d be happy to provide more information to give a better picture. Thank y’all for your wisdom.

My husband (M36) and I (F34) have been in a rut for a few years for various reasons. I have gone through some personal things that unfortunately left me without a libido. In turn, that leaves him feeling unwanted & unattractive. Fast forward to now, I'm wanting to repair things but I don't really know where to start. I've done some serious damage to our intimate relationship and when I've tried recently to make a move (via text) it is shot down without a discussion. We haven't been intimate with each other since before we had our baby and having the baby makes for smaller windows of time for anything to happen.
I would like to try making a physical move (such as jumping in the shower with him & pleasuring him) but I'm just not sure if that's crossing a line because he continues to turn it down in conversation.
Men: how would you feel if your wife started trying to use actions to show a desired change? Do I try? Or do I wait until he positively responds to it in conversation first? I just don't want it to seem like I'm all talk; I want the action part to show that I'm putting in the work and effort to save our marriage. I don't actually want us to have a sexless marriage but my actions in the past have shown otherwise.
Tl;Dr - what can I do to initiate & bring back our sex life when husband doesn't seem interested because of the wedge I've caused?

Hello everyone im new to this sub. I was actually looking for some sort of romantic roleplay. Maybe we meet in school or later in life and we can just see what happens. I also enjoy the idea of maybe being enemies and we are forced to spend time together. You could be a former girlfriend that got away. I also wouldn't mind maybe just meeting out in public like a coffee shop or something. We can even make it more fun and add adventure or scifi elements but im fine with a romantic slice of life roleplay. If you have anything you would like to add feel free to message me. I am also ok with things getting hot and heavy but if it's something you don't like feel free to let me know and I won't cross any boundaries you might have. I am looking for either a long term or short term! Anyone is welcome so feel free to message me your ideas and we can have a bit of fun together!
I would enjoy picking out the details with you so if your interested feel free to message me with any questions. And I also wouldn't mind playing out whatever role play ideas you might have. Tell me some of your ideas I might like them more! As for ways to chat I don't mind the reddit chat, I also have kik,discord, whatsapp. All of those are fine with me.

Hello folks,
First, I want to mention that I have discussed (and continue to discuss) what I am about to write with my advisor and thesis committee. So I'm just trying to have other perspectives on this.So, I'm currently recruiting participants for my doctoral research. It's a qual study.According to my advisor, after one semester of recruitment, I'm missing about half of the participants that I need to have enough data for a doctoral degree. Therefore, I am giving myself until the end of 2023 to complete recruitment (fingers-crossed!)
Recruitment is the most exciting part of research because we meet people and listen to what they tell us. But, at the same time, it's part of the research process over which researchers have less control which can be stressful.
I'm writing the few thesis chapters I can write simultaneously (for example, the literature review chapter). But unfortunately, I can't write the chapters that require the data yet (for example, the Results or Discussion chapters).
My advisor suggested that I analyze already public documents to complete the data from the semi-directed interviews.I don't want to give too many details about my research topic because I'm not particularly eager to doxx myself haha.
However, feel free to DM me if you need more information.I'm just scratching my head about what could count as an analysis.
I've considered newspaper articles, archives from organizations or grey literature research reports. But concretely, data from these would be extremely scarce and difficult to work with from a methodological point of view due to the nature of the topic I'm working on. It's a very "niche" topic.
Is there any other material that could count for documentary analysis for a qualitative study?

Hello folks,
First, I want to mention that I have discussed (and continue to discuss) what I am about to write with my advisor and thesis committee. So I'm just trying to have other perspectives on this.So, I'm currently recruiting participants for my doctoral research. It's a qual study.
According to my advisor, after one semester of recruitment, I'm missing about half of the participants that I need to have enough data for a doctoral degree. Therefore, I am giving myself until the end of 2023 to complete recruitment (fingers-crossed!)
Recruitment is the most exciting part of research because we meet people and listen to what they tell us. But, at the same time, it's part of the research process over which researchers have less control which can be stressful.
I'm writing the few thesis chapters I can write simultaneously (for example, the literature review chapter). But unfortunately, I can't write the chapters that require the data yet (for example, the Results or Discussion chapters).
My advisor suggested that I analyze already public documents to complete the data from the semi-directed interviews.I don't want to give too many details about my research topic because I'm not particularly eager to doxx myself haha.
However, feel free to DM me if you need more information.I'm just scratching my head about what could count as an analysis.
I've considered newspaper articles, archives from organizations or grey literature research reports. But concretely, data from these would be extremely scarce and difficult to work with from a methodological point of view due to the nature of the topic I'm working on. It's a very "niche" topic.
Is there any other material that could count for documentary analysis for a qualitative study?

The Hoax Story of Remarkable Testimony of a Buddhist monk in Myanmar (Burma) who came back to life a changed man!
Introduction The story that follows is simply a translation of a taped testimony from a man with a life-changing story. It is not an interview or a biography, but simply the words from the man himself. Different people react in different ways when they hear this story. Some are inspired, some skeptical, a few will mock and ridicule, while some others have even been filled with rage and anger, convinced these words are the ravings of a mad man or an elaborate deception. Some Christians have opposed the story simply because the radical and miraculous events described herein do not fit their feeble image of an Almighty God.
We were first made aware of this story from several Burmese church leaders who shared it with us. These leaders had looked into the story and had not found any suggestion of it being a hoax. It was with this in mind that we decided to step out and circulate the story. We do not do so for any monetary gain, or with a motivation of self-promotion. We just want to let the story speak for itself, and invite Christian believers to judge it according to Scripture. If God wants any part of it to be intended for His glory or to encourage His people, then we pray His Spirit will work in the hearts of the readers in those ways.
Some people have told us they think the monk in this story never actually died, but that he just lapsed into unconsciousness, and the things he saw and heard were part of a fever-driven hallucination. Whatever you think, the simple fact remains that the events of this story so radically transformed this man that his life took on a complete 180-degree shift after the events described below. He has fearlessly and boldly told his story at great personal cost, including imprisonment. He has been scorned by his relatives, friends and colleagues, and faced death threats for his unwillingness to compromise his message. What motivated this man to be willing to risk everything? Whether we believe him or not, his story is surely worth listening to and considering. In the cynical West many people demand hard evidence of such things, evidence that would stand up in a court of law. Can we absolutely guarantee, beyond doubt, that all of these things happened? No, we cannot. But we feel it is worth repeating this man's story in his own words so that readers can judge for themselves.
My Early Years Hello! My name is Athet Pyan Shinthaw Paulu. I am from the country of Myanmar. I would like to share with you my testimony of what happened to me, but first I would like to give some brief background information from my life growing up.
I was born in 1958 in the town of Bogale, on the Irrawaddy Delta area of southern Myanmar [formerly Burma]. My parents, who were devout Buddhists like most people in Myanmar, named me Thitpin [which means 'tree' in English]. Our lives were very simple where I grew up. At the age of 13 I left school and started working on a fishing boat. We caught fish and sometimes also shrimp from the numerous rivers and streams in the Irrawaddy area. At the age of 16 I became the leader of the boat. At this time I lived in Upper Mainmahlagyon Island [Mainmahlagyon means 'Beautiful Woman Island' in English], just north of Bogale where I was born. This place is about 100 miles southwest of Yangon [Rangoon], our nation's capitol city.
One day, when I was 17, we caught a large number of fish in our nets. Because of the many fish, a large crocodile was attracted to us. It followed our boat and tried to attack us. We were terrified so we frantically rowed our boats toward the riverbank as fast as we could. The crocodile followed us and smashed our boat with its tail. Although no one died in this incident, the attack greatly affected my life. I no longer wanted to fish. Our small boat sank because of the crocodile attack. We had to go home to our village that night on a passenger boat.
Not long after, his employers transferred my father to Yangon City [formerly spelt Rangoon]. At the age of 18 I was sent to a Buddhist monastery to be a novice monk. Most parents in Myanmar try to send their son into a Buddhist monastery, at least for a time, as it is considered a great honor to have a son serve in this way. We have been observing this custom for many hundreds of years.
​
A Zealous Disciple of Buddha When I turned 19 years and 3 months old (in 1977), I became a normal monk. The senior monk at my monastery gave me a new Buddhist name, which is the custom in our country. I was now called U Nata Pannita Ashinthuriya. When we become a monk we no longer use the name given to us at birth by our parents. The name of the monastery I lived at is called Mandalay Kyaikasan Kyaing. The senior monk's name was called U Zadila Kyar Ni Kan Sayadaw [U Zadila is his title]. He was the most famous Buddhist monk in all of Myanmar at the time. Everyone knew who he was. He was widely honored by the people and respected as a great teacher. I say he "was" because in 1983 he suddenly died when he was involved in a fatal car accident. His death shocked everyone. At the time I had been a monk for six years.
I tried hard to be the best monk I could and to follow all the precepts of Buddhism. At one stage I moved to a cemetery where I lived and meditated continually. Some monks who really want to know the truths of Buddha do things like I did. Some move deep into the forests where they live a life of self-denial and poverty. I sought to deny my selfish thoughts and desires, to escape from sickness and suffering and to break free from the cycle of this world. At the cemetery I was not afraid of ghosts. I tried to attain such inner peace and self-realization that even when a mosquito landed on my arm I would let it bite me instead of brushing it off!
For years I strived to be the best monk I could and not to harm any living being. I studied the holy Buddhist teachings just like all my forefathers had done before me.
My life proceeded as a monk until I got very, very sick. I was in Mandalay at the time and had to be taken to the hospital for treatment. The doctors did some tests on me and told me I had both Yellow Fever and malaria at the same time! After about one month in the hospital I was getting worse. The doctors told me there was no chance for me to recover and discharged me to make arrangements to die.
This is a brief description of my past. I would now like to tell you some of the remarkable things that happened to me after this times...
​
A Vision that Changed My Life Forever After I was discharged from the hospital I went back to the monastery where other monks cared for me. I grew weaker and weaker and was lapsing into unconsciousness. I learned later that I actually died for three days. My body decayed and stunk of death, and my heart stopped beating. My body was prepared for cremation and was put through traditional Buddhist purification rites.
Although I faded away in my body I remember my mind and spirit were fully alert. I was in a very, very powerful storm. A tremendous wind flattened the whole landscape until there were no trees or anything else standing, just a flat plain. I walked very fast along this plain for some time. There were no other people anywhere, I was all alone. After some time I crossed a river. On the other side of the river I saw a terrible, terrible lake of fire. In Buddhism we do not have a concept of a place like this. At first I was confused and didn't know it was hell until I saw Yama, the king of hell [Yama is the name ascribed to the King of Hell in numerous cultures throughout Asia]. His face looked like the face of a lion, his body was like a lion, but his legs were like a naga [serpent spirit]. He had a number of horns on his head. His face was very fierce, and I was extremely afraid. Trembling, I asked him his name. He replied, "I am the king of hell, the Destroyer."
The terrible, terrible lake of fire The king of hell told me to look into the lake of fire. I looked and I saw the saffron colored robes that Buddhist monks wear in Myanmar. I looked closer and saw the shaven head of a man. When I looked at the man's face I saw it was U Zadila Kyar Ni Kan Sayadaw [the famous monk who had died in a car accident in 1983]. I asked the king of hell why my former leader was confined to this lake of torment. I said, "Why is he in this lake of fire? He was a very good teacher. He even had a teaching tape called 'Are You a Man or a Dog?' which had helped thousands of people understand that their worth as humans is far greater than the animals." The king of hell replied, "Yes, he was a good teacher but he did not believe in Jesus Christ. That's why he is in hell."
I was told to look at another person who was in the fire. I saw a man with very long hair wrapped on the left hand side of his head. He was also wearing a robe. I asked the king of hell, "Who is this man?" He replied, "This is the one you worship: Gautama [Buddha]."
I was very disturbed to see Gautama in hell. I protested, "Gautama had good ethnics and good moral character, why is he suffering in this lake of fire?" The king of hell answered me, "It doesn't matter how good he was. He is in this place because he did not believe in the Eternal God."
I then saw another man who looked like he was wearing a soldier's uniform. He had a large wound on his chest. I asked, "Who is this man?" The king of hell said, "This is Aung San, the revolutionary leader of Myanmar." I was told, "Aung San is here because he persecuted and killed Christians, but mostly because he didn't believe in Jesus Christ." In Myanmar the people have a common saying, "Soldiers never die, they live on." I was told that the legions of hell have a saying "Soldiers never die, but they go to hell forever."
I looked and saw another man in the lake of fire. He was a very tall man and he was dressed in military armor. He was also holding a sword and a shield. This man had a wound on his forehead. This man was taller than any person I have ever seen. He was six times the length between a man's elbow and the tips of his fingers when he stretches his arm out straight, plus one span of a man's fingers when he spreads out his hand. The king of hell said, "This man's name is Goliath. He is in hell because he blasphemed the Eternal God and His servant David." I was confused because I didn't know who either Goliath or David were. The king of hell said, "Goliath is recorded in the Christian Bible. You don't know him now, but when you become a Christian you will know who he is."
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I was then taken to a place where I saw both rich and poor people preparing to eat their evening meals. I asked, "Who cooked the food for these people?" The king of hell replied, "The poor have to prepare their own food, but the rich people get others to cook for them." When the food had been prepared for the rich people they sat down to eat. As soon as they started a thick smoke came up. The rich people ate as fast as they could to ease their consciences. They were struggling to breath because of the smoke. They had to eat fast because they were fearful of losing their money. Their money is their god.
Another king of hell then came to me. I also saw a being whose job is to stoke the fires beneath the lake of fire, to keep it hot. This being asked me, "Are you going into the lake of fire too?" I replied, "No! I am only here to observe!" The appearance of this creature stoking the fire was very terrifying. He had ten horns on his head and a spear in his hand that had seven sharp blades coming from the end. The creature told me, "You are right. You came here just to observe. I cannot find your name here." He said, "You must now go back the way you came." He pointed me toward the desolate plain that I had first walked along before I came to the lake of fire.
The Road of Decision I walked a long time, until I was bleeding. I was hot and in great pain. Finally, after walking for about three hours I came to a wide road. I walked along this road for some time until I came to a fork. One road, going off to the left, was wide. A smaller road went off to the right hand side. There was a signpost at the fork saying that the road to the left was for those who do not believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. The smaller road to the right was for believers in Jesus.
I was interested to see where the larger road led so I started down it. There were two men walking about 300 yards ahead of me. I tried to catch up with them so I could walk with them but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't catch them up, so I turned around and went back to the fork in the road. I continued to watch these two men as they walked down the road away from me. When they reached the end of the road they were suddenly stabbed. These two men cried out in great pain! I also cried out when I saw what happened to them! I realized the bigger road ended in great danger for those who traveled down it.
Looking into Heaven I started walking down the believers' road instead. After traveling for about one hour the surface of the road turned to pure gold. It was so pure that when I looked down I could see my own reflection perfectly. I then saw a man standing in front of me. He was wearing a white robe. I also heard beautiful singing. Oh, it was so beautiful and pure! It was much better and more meaningful than the worship we have in churches here on the earth. The man in the white robe asked me to walk with him. I asked him, "What is your name?" but he did not answer. After I asked his name six times the man answered, "I am the one who holds the key to heaven. Heaven is a very, very beautiful place. You cannot go there now but if you follow Jesus Christ you can go there after your life has finished on the earth." The man's name was Peter.
Peter then asked me to sit down and he showed me a place to the north. Peter said, "Look to the north and see God create man." I saw the Eternal God from a distance. God spoke to an angel, "Let us make man." The angel pleaded with God and said, "Please don't make man. He will do wrong and will grieve you." [In Burmese literally: "He will make you lose face."]. But God created a man named anyway. God blew on the man and the man came to life. He gave him the name "Adam". [Note: Buddhists do not believe in the Creation of the world or of man, so this experience had a significant impact on the monk].
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Sent Back with a New Name Then Peter said, "Now get up and go back to where you came from. Speak to the people who worship Buddha and who worship idols. Tell them they must go to hell if they don't change. Those who build temples and idols will also have to go to hell. Those who give offerings to the monks to earn merit for themselves with go to hell. All those who pray to the monks and call them 'Pra' [respectful title for monks] will go to hell. Those who chant and 'give life' to idols will go to hell. All those who don't believe in Jesus Christ will go to hell." Peter told me to go back to the earth and testify about the things I had seen. He also said, "You must speak in your new name. From now on you are to be called Athet Pyan Shinthaw Paulu ["Paul who Came Back to Life."].
I didn't want to go back. I wanted to go to heaven. Angels opened a book. First they looked for my childhood name (Thitpin) in the book, but they could not find it. They then looked for the name I had been given when he entered the Buddhist monk hood (U Nata Pannita Ashinthuriya) but it wasn't written in the book either. Then Peter said, "Your name is not written here, you must return and testify about Jesus to the Buddhist people."
I walked back along the gold road. Again I heard beautiful singing, the kind of which I have never heard before or since. Peter walked with me until the time I returned to the earth. He showed me a ladder that reached down from the heaven to the sky. The ladder didn't reach to the earth, but stopped in mid-air. On the ladder I saw many angels, some going up to heaven and some going down the ladder. They were very busy. I asked Peter, "Who are they?" Peter answered, "They are messengers of God. They are reporting to heaven the names of all those who believe in Jesus Christ and the names of those who don't believe." Peter then told me it was time to go back.
It is a Ghost! The next thing I was aware of was the sound of weeping. I heard my own mother cry out, "My son, why did you leave us now?" I also heard many other people weeping. I realized I was lying in a box. I started to move. My mother and father started shouting, "He is alive! He is alive!" Other people who were farther away did not believe my parents. I then placed my hands on the sides of the box and sat upright. Many people were struck with terror. They cried out, "It is a ghost!" and ran away as fast as their legs could carry them.
Those who remained were speechless and trembling. I noticed I was sitting in smelly liquid and body fluids, enough to fill about three and a half cups. This was liquid that had come out of my stomach and my insides while my body was lying in the coffin. This is why people knew I had indeed been dead. Inside the coffin there was a type of plastic sheet fixed to the wood. This sheet is placed there to retain a corpse's liquids, because many dead bodies release much fluid like mine did.
I learned later that I was just moments away from being cremated in the flames. In Myanmar people are placed in a coffin, the lid is then nailed shut, and the whole coffin is burned. When I came back to life my mother and father were being allowed to look at my body for the very last time. Moments later the lid of my coffin would have been nailed shut and I would have been cremated!
I immediately started to explain the things I had seen and heard. People were astonished. I told them about the men I had seen in the lake of fire, and told them that only the Christians know the truth, that our forefathers and us have been deceived for thousands of years! I told them everything we believe is a lie. The people were astonished because they knew what kind of a monk I had been and how zealous I had been for the teachings of Buddha.
In Myanmar when a person dies their name and age is written on the side of the coffin. When a monk dies, the monk's name, age and the number of years he has served as a monk are written on the side of the coffin. I had already been recorded as dead but as you can see, now I am alive!
Epilogue Since 'Paul who came back to life' experienced the above story he has remained a faithful witness to the Lord Jesus Christ. Burmese pastors have told us that he had led hundreds of other monks to faith in Christ. His testimony is obviously very uncompromising. Because of that, his message has offended many people who cannot accept there is only one Way to Heaven, the Lord Jesus Christ. Despite great opposition, his experiences were so real to him that he has not wavered. After many years in the Buddhist monk hood, as a strict follower of Buddhist teachings, he immediately proclaimed the Gospel of Christ following his resurrection and exhorted other monks to forsake all false gods and follow Jesus Christ with all their hearts. Before the time of his sickness and death he had no exposure to Christianity at all. Everything he learned during those three days in the grave was new to his mind.
In a bid to get his message out to as many people as possible, this modern-day Lazarus began distributing audio and video cassette tapes with his story on them. The police and Buddhist authorities in Myanmar have done their utmost to gather these tapes up and destroy them. The testimony you have just read has been translated form one of those cassette tapes. We are told it is now quite dangerous for citizens of Myanmar to be in possession of these tapes.
His fearless testimony has landed him in prison at least once, where the authorities failed in their bid to silence him. Upon his release he continued to testify of the things he saw and heard. His current whereabouts are uncertain. One Burmese informant told us he is prison and may have been killed, while another informant was told he is now released from prison and is continuing his ministry.
Translated by: Asian Minorities Outreach P.O.Box 901 Palestine, TX 75802 U.S.A. E-Mail: monkst... u/yahoo.com Website: http://www.antioch.com.sg/mission/asianmo
________________________
Dear Triplegem Members, The following message was posted to the NDE.com Website by someone called 'James' on 23rd July, 2000. (NDE = Near Death Experience). The Monk's story is identical. But the source is different. Details can be viewed at
<>
The message began with: "Buddhist Monk visits Hell" I believe this person died, body decay & rotten. He was then brought to those places by the LORD to show him some vision. <-------
This is taken from a mission paper "Northside Missions Update" Northside Christian Centre 31-61 McLeans Road Bundoora Victoria 3083 Australia
The same 'Monk's Story' followed. Then, exchange of interesting messages took place at the NDE.com Bulletin Board among NDE regulars, some of them are Christians, and finally, someone called 'Melvin', 'a Myanmar Buddhist', posted the following message and the discussion came to a close.
The fact that the same story has re-surfaced in another form (cassette), perhaps in a another country is a bit disturbing!
Best wishes to all our Triplegem members, MM Lwin
...................................................................

If I were to be fully honest with myself, I knew we would be forever, or we’d end in disaster. I think a part of you may have felt that, too. So why could we never meet each other in the middle. Perhaps, we were subconsciously unwilling to do so. From the moment we met, we were living on opposite ends of the spectrum. You were finding yourself and wanted freedom; I had been finding myself within my freedom but was now ready for partnership. And, truth be told, I was lonely. I think it was excruciatingly hard to admit the level of my own loneliness as I equated it to weakness within myself. I love being alone. I thrive in an environment where I have freedom and room to breathe. I’m fiercely independent and I take pride in that. But I’m still just a person and I must recognize the toll it takes on my spirit and, on my soul, to be so secluded. Having chosen to stay single and celibate for 5 years to work on myself and my life and my goals, changed my brain chemistry. And I would do it over and over again if I had to. While I learned invaluable lessons on my own inner strength and perseverance, I severely neglected the raw, emotional, intimate, creative, feminine being that is so deeply, me. I was starting to lose myself. The blatant lack of figures in my life was steadily becoming more than I could bear. The unbearable weight of nothing at all creates a whole new ache. So, there it is. I was lonely. Lonelier than I can describe. And then you showed up.
I have to say, I’ve developed a very toxic, on again/ off again relationship with dating apps. I have a habit of creating a profile and deleting it within 24 hours. There’s something slightly addicting to the extreme high and low of it all. I’ll go from feeling wildly confident and hopeful with a few matches and dozens upon dozens of people who like my profile, to quick disillusionment with every uninspired response from potential prospects. Perhaps this is what it’s like to have a gambling addiction. Every time I create a new profile, I’m buzzing with excitement that maybe, just maybe, this time I’ll meet “the one”. And even though the outcome is always a letdown, the thrill of the “what if”, alone, is enough to keep me coming back for more. The dopamine of maybes. And so, on this Thanksgiving night, when good food and quality family time should have been enough, Bumble was calling my name.
I made a profile. I even paid for the month-long subscription. This was a way to force myself to actually give it a shot instead of bowing out in the first 48. Can’t just delete the profile when I’ve literally invested in it. But I can’t deny that it did come with benefits. One of the incentives to get you to pay for their premium subscription is that it allows you to see everyone who has liked your profile without having to match with them first. I mean who doesn’t want to see that? It’s this particular perk that made it possible for our paths (profiles) to cross, in the first place.
So, how is it that my willingness to throw away $50 on this night, somehow led us straight into each other’s lives? If I hadn’t seen that you liked my profile, I never would have swiped right on you. And it’s not for any reason you may be thinking. While I was scrolling through to see who was seemingly interested in little ole me, I saw your picture. I was instantly intrigued. You stood out. Handsome, stylish, a former fellow Paul Mitchell Future Professional. As surface level as a profile is, you seemed like a very interesting person; someone infinitely cooler than me and you certainly didn’t appear to have a hard time finding someone to take the spot next to you. If I hadn’t seen that you liked my profile, I would have just swiped left thinking there was no way someone like you would be interested in someone like me. Another missed connection, lost to the void of the internet because of my own insecurity. But not on this night. Because on this night, I threw caution and fifty bucks to the wind, and we matched, and I messaged you and you messaged back.
The small talk was easy with you. You were sweet and charming. Very quickly our small talk turned into essays upon essays of messages, and it only got better once I gave you, my number. From sunup to far past sundown, we were in constant communication, and I looked forward to every text. It seemed like you were truly interested in getting to know everything about me and I assure you, I was truly interested in getting to know all about you. You really were a breath of fresh air. It hadn’t been easy to find someone I could chat with like that, for quite some time. And it was thrilling. It was refreshing. It was new. I felt seen. I felt heard. For the first time in such an agonizingly long time, I saw possibility. I remember thinking to myself that even if this didn’t pan out in a romantic sense, I at least had found an amazing new friend. Someone new and beautiful to be a part of my life.
Even though we had been hitting it off right from the jump and even though I had been so taken with you, I had to do my due diligence. As a single woman and single mother with a lot to lose, anytime someone new comes into my life, it’s always a good idea to know who I’m speaking with. Personally, I think it’s in everyone’s best interest to do a little digging when someone new enters their life. You can call it paranoia, but I just call it safety.
First, I did what anyone would do, and I searched social media. No Facebook and I couldn’t find an Instagram with your first and last name. Just your Snapchat as it was listed on your Bumble profile. So, then I tried google. It’s truly scary how much you can find on someone with very basic information. In a couple of searches, I found your middle name. I know this sounds like stalker territory, but the only reason I even wanted to know your full name was so I could search a particular state website. For anyone’s protection, I’d recommend it. So, I did. Honestly, I thought I was just wasting my time and being overly cautious, but in a couple of clicks, there it was. Your torrid past laid out in front of me. It scared me. Terrified me. I’ll even admit that I cried in frustration when I found it all. I cried because it just solidified what I had already been feeling; you were too good to be true. I sat with this information for a while and eventually decided, against any instinct inside of me, to still give it a chance. Give you a chance.
Finally, you asked me out. It wasn’t a typical date, but it was an easy way to meet you in person for the first time. To say I was nervous was a vast understatement, but I was also just as giddy. At this point, I’d damn near forgotten the fluttery rush of pending first impressions and I rode the high all day long. Instead of going out to dinner and a movie, you came over to my house for dinner and a root touch up. When I got the “I’m here” text, I’m pretty sure my soul left my body. I never asked you how you felt the day leading up to our meeting. Were you as nervous as I was? I like to think and hope that our energies were vibrating on the same frequencies, that day, but I may have been the only one so hopeful. When I saw you in person the first time, I thought you were just as handsome, if not more, standing in the light of my front porch. Admittedly, most of my nervousness stemmed from the thought that you might have been disappointed when you saw me in person. Perhaps, you were, but if that were the case, you hid your disenchantment, well.
I cooked spaghetti that night. You ate two bowls. You kept telling me how delicious it was and even though it took absolutely nothing for me to prepare the meal, I was charmed by how grateful you were. After we ate, I did your hair. I picked out a funny podcast to listen to in the background. I thought that if conversation died, we could listen in unawkward silence and hopefully you’d think it was as funny as I did. To my surprise, the conversation didn’t die at all. In fact, us talking over the podcast just became distracting, so I turned it off, altogether. Eventually, it was time to wash your hair. To make up for the fact that you had to be bent over in an extremely uncomfortable way, I attempted to give you a decent scalp massage while I shampooed. Because of the odd angle, it was a clumsy attempt, at best, but I still hoped you liked it. It’s funny to me that the whole time I couldn’t help but think how oddly intimate it was washing your hair in my kitchen sink. But I think I’m just weird. After that, we moved to the couch. You were sitting on one end, and I was sitting on the other. No music, no podcasts, no tv, just us. It seemed like we discussed anything and everything. If there was a lull in the conversation, you’d just stare at me with a soft smile and assured me that this silence was peaceful, and you were enjoying it. But, every time I met your gaze, I could feel myself blushing, so I grabbed my blanket and kept holding it up to my face. You said I was being cute. Even long after this first meeting, I’d always feel so exposed, so vulnerable, when I’d catch you looking at me like that. Despite my bashfulness, I was more comfortable with you than I’d been with another person in a very long time. I even had the courage to bring up my sleuthing and the things I had found. You took it very well and even thanked me for my honesty. You told me everything, sparing no details. You took ownership of the things you had done and placed blame where you felt was deserved. It was matter of fact with an edge of remorse. I commended your vulnerability and willingness to share. I left the conversation feeling very pleased with my decision to hear you out. And I was proud of your seemingly incredible amount of self-awareness.
Eventually, I had to cut our night off. I had to work the next day and it was nearly one in the morning. You didn’t try to kiss me. You gave me a hug before you left and assured me that you had a great night. I thought, for sure, you weren’t interested after meeting me in person, but I was just so happy that I’d have you as a friend, that any bruise on my ego wasn’t even felt. Afterwards, our texts continued as normal, and it would only be a few short days before you came over again.
The next time you came over, any doubt that I may have had about you being attracted to me or being interested, was put to rest. This time we watched movies. Or maybe just a show I had on. I can’t remember. My brain was too fixated on how closely you were sitting next to me. How close your hand was getting to mine. How our pinkies finally brushed against each other. How you gained the courage, for both of us, to grab my hand and I was so thankful you did. Eventually, the movie or show ended, and we started talking. The nervousness and building tension were palpable. I was screaming in my head “kiss me”. When you finally turned to face me, you just stared at me and smiled, still holding my hand, and then you asked if it’d be okay if you kissed me. I answered with a desperate “yes” that sounded far more pathetic than I like to admit. To my own surprise, I let my body take charge. Without even thinking, I dropped your hand and immediately grabbed for you. One hand on your chest and the other on the side of your face. Our first kiss was not soft and timid like you may have expected. In fact, I felt I may have surprised you. I certainly surprised myself. Our first kiss was fervent and laced with aching desire. At least, that’s how it was for me. And it didn’t take long for me to invite you to my bedroom.
Neither of us were prepared, so we didn’t have sex that night, which was okay. Once we were in the bedroom, I began to feel overwhelmed. But you were so patient and reassuring. When we did finally have sex for the first time, it was absolutely incredible. I never told you this, but it was possibly the most intense sexual experience I've had in my life, thus far, and it was very emotionally charged, for me. You were the first person I’d been with in five years. Up until then, I had wondered if I’d ever be capable of being intimate with someone, again. But I trusted you implicitly. Effortlessly. You made me feel so safe. Before every kiss, before every touch, you made sure to ask me if it was okay. If I wanted to stop at any moment, I knew I could speak up without fear of any form of retaliation or passive aggressive behavior. But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted you; all of you. I wanted us. And God, how beautiful you made me feel even though I was so intensely insecure about my body. You made sure I was comfortable. Comfortable with myself; comfortable with you. You took your time with everything you did. The sensation of it all was overwhelming in the best way possible. The sensation of you was almost more than I could stand. To be completely honest, it felt like losing my virginity, all over again. You were so patient and understanding. So caring and passionate. And from that moment on, you had me wrapped around your finger; just where you wanted me.

Stupid post and I feel stupid for feeling this way, but here we go. Im in the middle of the horror that is STEP 2 dedicated. My exam is at the end of the month, and I don't feel like I'm progressing, but thats not the point of this post. In the middle of reviewing one of my shit blocks I go on tik tok and theres a video of some chick who wants to "inspire others" about her journey as a model, actress, and fucking astronaut. No shade, no tea (I'm clearly a hater) , but wtf? I guess the post upset me so much (I literally locked my phone screen, said " that really made me feel like shit" and cried for like 30 seconds) because it reminded me of how fucking average I am. Like everyone else I was pretty "SMART" before medical school, only to be humbled by its rigors. I never rlly felt like I had talents besides academics (long story that I won't get into here) and being constantly violated by dedicated just makes me feel shitter and shitter. Its getting to the point where I don't feel special at all. I dont know why anyone else would see me as special either. Im struggling at the one thing Im supposed to be good at. What am I doing wrong? I would love to pursue other things ( dancing, modeling) , but I just cant. Saddest part is that I know it's just my fault. If I really wanted to, I would wake up at 5 AM and do whatever it is that people who excel at everything in fucking life do. Anyway, I'm going to delete tik tok. Thanks for reading.

I wish this feeling would just wash away But I wish to stop it in its tracks. I wish this voice wouldn’t sound so foreign to you.
I may have been clueless. I may have been thoughtless. But, I have always been so full of thought. It was just about the things that no one paid attention to. It was like everyone in the room saw the same thing, But I saw something else.
And, out of everything, everyone, You were the only one I ever felt the most attached to. The rest called me names. They overestimated me, underestimated me And were okay leaving me on the ground, eventually.
You couldn't understand my aloofness. But, you couldn't, ever. Even I myself didn't. And, I don't want to break this image I have of you. I don't want you to leave me Suspended. I don't want to leave things half-done.
I have to leave you not just Because you couldn't understand my pain Because I didn’t want you to understand it. Where was it coming from? Eventually, I wonder if you had believed what they had believed Completely. That I was the slaphappy character who just can't participate.
And, I realize that may have been the case To an extent, even though you knew I bottled everything up.
Long ago, I had a dangerous idea. I mistakenly thought that everything circulated, propagated. Was going to be made known to the world. That my tracks will eventually be covered in rust. Every action insufficient.
But, it wasn't. My deepest, darkest self That this had manifested into, You were completely oblivious to it. Perhaps by instinct. And, I could finally confirm that. Even though you might have suspected something.
I liked them. I truly did. But, I had this nagging feeling all the time That I was just the 13th character in the group.
I am leaving because I would have to be around them to be around you.
I wish so many things: That I could have forgotten that I have this part of me. That I could have forgotten myself To have been closer with you. That my best friendship didn't have to feel as delicate as a feather.
But, maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. I don't think that's how you feel Completely. Maybe, the only thing that separated us was unspoken communication That could never be spoken.
Otherwise, the potential could have been whatever our imagination could fill in. If I really wanted to. But the path in between was always blurry.
I choose to not become a ghost. I wanted to meet you face to face. I want to tell you I wanted to leave you forever.
I mean, the pain I feel is just a lack of closure at the end, right? I could move on and find more fulfilling friendships. But, this pain was so important to me. I would think it would include yours.
Why does everything have to be this way? If you don't like something, should you just ignore it? All the time? But, what about if you could grow into it?
I know there are a million other good things I could do. But, I wanted to explore this uncertain thing further. Why? I don't know. Maybe, just because. Maybe because I see something puzzling there. Or maybe doing so is the only thing that feels true to me.
And I kept seeing something there. It never stopped. Each moment was a new idea. A new concept. A new feeling. A new possibility. And, I wanted it to stop.
And, I hate saying all this to you. I already feel like I crossed a line way too far. So, I don't know what to do or what else to say
But goodbye.
12

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/7woUbqy
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Magpul Suppressor Cover - It's just too big for my taste. It's definitely heavy duty, but probably more suited for you lucky guys who have the giggle switch. There are 2 rings on the inside that attach to the proximal and distal ends of the suppressor, preventing it from making contact with the heat shield and allowing the exterior to cool quicker. There are Youtube videos on it. Definitely looks like a fleshlight. - $50 shipped
Dakota Tactical MP5/SP5 rail Blk - Finally landed a RAS for my Mp5 so this is going up for sale. Great tube, solid lock up. Minor marks from where I added and removed attachments. I can't find the screw you need to attach. I'm sure DT can replace or at a minimum share the thread pattern and it can be sourced at the local hardware store. Bought this on 3/30 this year, got it to the range twice, then taken off. -$95 shipped
Let me know if you need more photos. Only trade I would consider at this time is a KAC URX 4 wrench +/- cash depending on what you are buying

hi so i’ve had like 3 jobs within this year so far but things keep on happening where i can’t keep them, i lost my job at panera because i had to call off and i didn’t give enough time (i know this is mostly my fault), i quit at mcdonald’s because a 30 yr old man said he’d get me a job at panda which pays more if i gave him my number so i did then he told me he has a crush on me and i’m so beautiful and when i said i’m 16 he said he’ll wait for me to be legal but he likes me a lot and this was after a girl in my town got killed by a coworker she rejected so i got scared and left, then at chick-fil-a they said i wasn’t happy enough or fast enough to be there and they gave me two weeks to improve but i got hit w anxiety and i quit before they could fire me then i got a job at dunkin and it was finally going well until i asked to transfer to a store closer to mine and suddenly my managers got mad and said they won’t transfer me because they don’t give me hours because i roll my eyes at them and i don’t have a sense of urgency then i was like ok should i quit and one said no and the other said if that’s what i want, i told my mom and she said i need to stick it through because i always run from my problems so i stuffed my ego and stayed (i tried telling them i don’t roll my eyes and i get everybting im suppose to do in my role but they kept on saying they see a problem so it’s a problem) i decide to stick through and everybting got better i later asked my manager if i still need to improve anyhting and she said nope i’ve fixed everything and she’ll give me all the hours i want (the other manager coming at me with her that time was later fired for having someone behind the counter) and everyhting was jolly before she started hiring a ton of new employees and so she over scheduled this sunday so i told her i could take off if she needed me to and she said no she doesn’t need me to then the next morning she texts me i don’t need to come in and to enjoy my day off and i asked her if it was due to high labor or something else and she said it was due to high labor and i thanked her and that was that then the next weeks schedule came out and i saw i’m only scheduled 5 hrs (i’m suppose to have 15) and all the new employees have way more hrs then me and i have the lowest hrs significantly in the whole employee list i asked her why i only have 5 hrs and she never answered me, i’m thinking is there something so wrong with me no one wants me and i’ve tried everything to fix myself to be liked by people and companies but i’m always in this situation and it’s scaring me bc it’s showing me i’m not capable or something but i need money to get through college now (i bought my first car with all the money i have made previously) advice would be GREATLY appreciated and my parents don’t help they just say i don’t know to anything regarding any advice i need in life and dismiss me and talk about their life together excluding me. Thank you for listening to me. Please help. -i have illness anxiety -i have anxiety -i’m adopted -i have hidden childhood trauma -i don’t do drugs or alcohol -i’m mostly an A’s or B’s student -i hope this information might help a little

Taking melee damage in PvP is not proccing cross-counter as it should be. Dealing melee damage is working as intended. Hopefully this can bring attention to the issue and get a fix.