Apexyl

Listening to the Pet Stories episode reminded me of something grant happened with my cats once

When I was very young, I had two cats. One was named Kitty, one named Fizzy, and one named Shadow. Kitty was much older than Fizzy, and Kitty did not like Fizzy.

So one night, Kitty is laying on my parents’ bed, and Fizzy has discovered sound. She was on a camping tent (it wasn’t set up, so it was just lying flat), running back and forth, scratching the shit out of it. Y’all know tent material, right? It wasn’t the most pleasant noise. But Fizzy’s doing this, zippin back and forth, yada-yada.

Out of nowhere, Kitty gets up from the bed, jumps down, goes over to little Fizzy…

And beats the living

There’s this feeling of solitude with which I’ve become very familiar. It started in sophomore year of highschool, I remember sitting at this one table in the cafeteria, early in the morning. I can’t remember why they wanted me to sit there (all the social butterflies in my grade), but they were talking, and for once I figured “why not? I do in fact have the ability to talk to people.”

I remember sitting there, completely lost. I listened to them converse for nearly ten minutes; I didn’t say a single word. The biggest thing was that they talked about the party over the weekend; one I never even knew about.

I don’t care about parties. I don’t drink nor date, none of that stuff is interestin

First one I completed was the Vampire Challenge. I fulfilled most of the qualifications while working for the mafia, and made sure I bit a few people in fights. After I completed everything but being 100 and living in Romania, I ditched the Mafia. I then emigrated to Romania, dodging mafia scenarios until I turned 100.

Next up was the Dog House Challenge. Easy enough, I did it in while still 100.

Finally, the 100 challenge. My happiness and health was already 100, and I was already 100. All I needed was to drop my bank balance, read a few books, and get plastic surgery. After gambling away 90 million dollars, and restoring my happiness by chilling with my mob of pets, it finally came to

I was 4 years old, to the day, running down the stairs. I was excited because it was my birthday. My mom walked by the stairs and I yelled: “I’m FOUR?!?!”

That’s it. That’s the memory

It’s really weirdly similar to Mark’s

That’s it. They’re just always really funny

For more context: I (F17) attend highschool from 8am to 11:10am, and then go to the local community college from 12pm to 2pm. This community college time is a partnership with BOCES. BOCES is off for the week of February 20, and so I’ll be out of school by 11:30 and easily able to work by noon.

Minor laws in New York though say minors can’t work during school hours, and 12pm to 3pm is in the range of “school hours,” even though I’m no actually IN school. I attend a private school which gives us (especially if we behave) a pretty loose leash.

So, even if I’m not in school during what is regarded to be school hours, can I work?

Sharpshooter 8 is to disarm 3 enemies without reloading or switching your weapon

I’ve tried the poison arrow trick and it just doesn’t seem to work! No matter what I do these fuckers are glued to their guns

How can I beat this challenge?

Edit: Thank you for all the advice you guys! I managed to get the sharpshooter challenges complete!

Trying to complete the compendium in master mode, but I can’t find any lynels that have mighty weapons. I’ve checked every location that a mighty-weapon bearer SHOULD be… but they’re all golden. I seem to have goofed it.

Any other way I can get mighty weapons?

When you “imagine” an apple, do you actually see it? Is there something that your eyes are looking at and recognizing? Or are you just remembering what an apple looks like and thinking “yeah I can imagine it.”

Is it really an image that’s visible? or is it an “image” that is just in the back of your mind? What does “back of your mind” even mean? Because sometimes I feel like there is some image there, but I cannot actually see a damned thing, and I need to keep reviewing facts otherwise it’s just gone in an instant.

People use too many metaphors when talking about this and now I don’t know what’s metaphorical and what’s not!

I mean, we’re all high schoolers, and we all have our shit to deal with. It doesn’t seem fair for me to go up to a friend and say “Here’s all my problems, now you’ve gotta have that weighing on your mind. Oh and don’t tell anybody btw.”

And then, they either leave it alone completely, which makes me wonder if anyone ever cared, or they try and help, which only ever made me feel weak and pathetic, and lead to me distancing myself from them. I become a really shitty person after I talk. So I just stay quiet.

It’s not fair to them. They didn’t ask for my problems, they shouldn’t have to deal with it.

I think that, due to the circumstances in which I was raised, my sense of empathy, my sense of emotions, and my sense of love have all become damaged. My emotions are… I don’t even know if they’re really there. I think much of my emotions and empathy are cognitive, not… whatever the hell empathy is supposed to be.

I’ve never crushed nor wanted anyone to so much as lay a hand on me. I can’t talk to people either. Whenever I do, I feel weak, I feel like whoever I spoke to can now only see me as a victim.

When I was a kid, if you were crying when talking, and your sentences were broken with sobs, you’d be screamed at for incoherence. I learned not to cry. I learned to take that piece of mysel

As the question says; do people think that we’re crazy or psychos based solely on whether we self harm or not?

Do you think methodology (if you cut vs. if you hit yourself vs. if you burn yourself vs. etc) influences how people react?

It’s a justified lack of notice, I mean, after all, it’s nobody’s job to make sure everyone around them is absolutely ecstatic to be alive.

I guess it’s just really hard, knowing that nobody cares that much about me. And I know that I’m not close enough with anyone for them to notice anything. Even if they cared, they’d never know how much I hated being myself, or how far I’ve gone to silence my thoughts.