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Struggling to hold a job down?
Everywhere you turn, the same cold line-
“We’re going a different direction.”

“Clearly it’s your fault. You’re not doing it right.
Keep pushing those resumes. Practice your interviews…”

Looking for alternatives - experience, maybe some money?

“Just get a job. Quit being so lazy.”

Hit financial walls while scraping together a life for your baby?

“Clearly, you’re not fit to be a parent.
Simply give your child away.”

You say you trudged through dirt, sweat, and tears...
But help was always a phone call away.
While I wait eight hours on hold just to hear:
“The office hours have closed. Please try your call again later”

“I’ve struggled. I’ve gone through hell and back.
I threw prayers that filled empty air…”

The list goes on.

But when I stumble and fall, all I hear is:
“Get up.”
“You’re just lazy.”
“Give your child away. You can’t care for him.”

Keep throwing your stones from your "cushy" lives.

I’ll show you.
You've seen me do it before

I’ll take your stones and build a fortress-
One forged from “can’t”, “lazy”, and “you’ll never make it.”

Add wood to my fire. Add stones to my palace.
Every doubt you toss becomes part of my legacy.

Because in this permanent rat race,
I won’t surrender.
I’ll rise above
And he’s staying with us

We'll make it, we simply have to
A child needs his family and that's just what I'll do
With- or without you
I came to my family for a little bit of financial help recently and they told me that I should consider adopting out my son. If I don't have it together right now, how can I possibly care for a child? The cliff has become steeper and it grows even more so every day. But *I'm* the one who's the problem, obviously...
When I first heard about D&D, I think I was around some friends. I don’t remember giving it much thought at the time--whether someone showed it to me or I stumbled across it on my own is a little fuzzy now.

But that’s not the important part, is it?

What I do remember is a video series by a YouTube creator named JoCat. The series? A Crap Guide to D&D.
It was funny, chaotic, and unexpectedly insightful. The way each class was broken down with such ridiculous energy sparked something in me. I found myself rewatching those videos over and over again, absorbing the quirks and archetypes of each class, and eventually they helped me make a decision on my very first character. Maybe not the most traditional way to get into D&D, but then again, no two journeys are ever the same.

Someone who had been encouraging me to try new hobbies mentioned there were D&D groups on social media, and I should join a game. So, I did.

I was welcomed with open arms. One of the players in my group even hand-painted a miniature for me and gave me my very first set of dice.
It didn’t feel like I was stepping into something new--it felt like I was returning to something I had known in another life. Like I wasn’t a stranger, but an old friend, visiting after a long time away.

The game was short-lived, mostly due to scheduling conflicts (a classic D&D struggle), but I thoroughly enjoyed every moment. Not just the game itself, but the people I shared it with.
Bells ring through the air as the sunlight softly kisses an ornate building. Inside, crowds of family, friends, and everyone in between fill the hall, their hushed voices weaving into a warm, expectant murmur.

In separate dressing rooms, two people take a deep breath in unison, the weight of the moment pressing gently against their ribs. One smooths the front of a pressed jacket, fingertips tracing the cool fabric, willing trembling hands to be still. The other adjusts a delicate veil, feeling the soft lace brush their cheek, heart thudding in the quiet.

The bells chime once more, echoing through the building. After this moment, everything will change.

The figure in their suit steps into place as a march begins to play. A moment later, the figure in the veil begins their slow walk, every step matching the measured notes. Everything disappears as they lock eyes, the nerves suddenly fleeing as the whole world melts away.

The ceremony takes place, sealed with a kiss. Happiness fills the room, mingling with the clink of glasses and the low hum of celebration, a soft buzz of positivity wrapping everyone in a warm embrace.

                                       ...

Years later, the pitterpatter of young feet roam a well-lived home, mingling with the rich scent of gumbo simmering on the stove. Two people dance around each other in a choreographed display of cooking and cleaning. One touches softly on the other’s swollen belly, a reminder of another pair of tiny feet soon to join their world. A long-awaited, gentle brush on the lips seals the warmth they still share, quiet but steady.

From the corner, a soft giggle breaks the rhythm. The warmth of happiness lingers still, though softened by the quiet weariness settled between the couple.

                                       ...

Ten years ago, this lovely couple became a family. Tonight, they wish to take the family out of the house to celebrate -- something different from the routine of dishes, homework, and quiet sighs. The car hums with the noise of restless children, and the couple exchanges a glance, a flicker of tiredness hidden behind forced smiles.

The night is full of hope and nostalgia, but beneath the laughter, the quiet spaces between words stretch longer than before.

The restaurant buzzes with the chatter of other diners, the clinking of glasses, and the soft hum of background music. The couple sits across from each other, their hands briefly touching before retreating, as if unsure of each other’s presence.

Midway through, a phone buzzes sharply against the table. An important work call that can’t be ignored. The owner excuses themselves, leaving the other to care for the hungry children.

Soon after, the kids need escorting to the bathroom, the parent softly gliding through the restaurant, kids in tow. Upon returning, they offer their partner a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach their eyes.

Conversations feels fragmented, slipping through cracks neither wants to face. Words that once flowed freely now stumble and falter. They hold on to quiet worries and feelings of loss until the evening ends.

The kids are put to bed. The couple sits quietly on the couch together, attempting connection on such an important night. Instead, voices begin to rise as words long unsaid pass back and forth.

                                     ...

A suitcase rests half-full on the worn quilt, each folded shirt laid down with careful detachment. One person sits on the edge of the bed, hands clasped loosely in their lap. They don’t look up when the zipper closes, but a tear slowly slips down, warm against their skin. No words are spoken as the suitcase is lifted. The door shuts, as both of them exhale in unison, defeated sighs behind the barrier.

Meanwhile, from the stairs, small fingers curl around the banister. The voices are soft, but the words don’t make sense:
"Time apart…better for everyone…it’s not your fault."
The phrases roll around in their little head, looking for any shape that feels solid. A door clicks, and a sad sigh drifts through the house that used to feel warm.

In another room, photos are scattered across the bed as a teenager lifts one, studying the smiling faces frozen in time. They’d heard this happened to other families but never thought it would happen to theirs. Never saw the signs until now, when everything has come apart. With their whole world crashing down upon their shoulders and a slow, aching breath, they tear the picture in half.
What really happens in marriage? Why do most of them look like this? Where does it all go wrong?
Footsteps echoed through a long hall of polished pearl and wood, papers scattering across the floor. A tall, handsome man with red skin and black hair burst through large wooden double doors, out of breath. A measured tapping of a pen could be heard on the desk in front of him as he panted.
“You’re late…” the voice boomed. “Like always…”
He held up his finger as he composed himself and straightened his suit.
“That doesn’t matter. Where are they?” His black eyes met a large figure cloaked in white.
The white figure raised her eyebrow and turned a page, her voice measured and calm.
“Well, they certainly aren’t here,” she stated. “Most of them go into limbo nowadays.”
“Don’t play games with me. My numbers are down, and jobs are going unfilled in my realm!” The red figure clenched his fist as heat waves rose from his shoulders.
“Well, that’s exactly why I called this meeting.” She flipped a page from the book in front of her. “It seems we have to intervene again…”
“Again?” The red figure rolled his eyes. “Because last time worked so well.”
She looked up from her book. “Last time, I was a lot more like you…” She sighed. “Nonetheless, you know the contract—”
“I know the contract. I wrote half of it!” he interrupted.
Her eyes glowed like the sun for a brief moment before she continued.
“And as you know, if we both don’t get our numbers up, we’ll be in for a performance review.” Her calm demeanor showed a hint of frustration.
The red figure let a smile slip slightly across his lips. “And what are they threatening this time? I swear they think they’re better than us, despite us all being gods.”
“Reassignment.” She paused as the red figure scoffed.
“They wouldn’t do that again…”
“Oh, but they did. And the punishment was light, comparatively. This time they plan on wiping our memories and making us live a few lives in the mortal plane. Now, I don’t know about you, but the last time I was there, they hung me up on a cross.”
The red figure’s defensive demeanor shifted into worry for a moment before he gathered himself.
“What do you suppose we do?”
“Well, I know how much you like games, so I have a friendly competition in mind—something to motivate us besides the whole ‘forced to the mortal plane’ gimmick.”
“I’m listening…” He cocked his head in curiosity.
“We start orphanages. You’ll have your own, and I will too. We’ll influence the children to live the lives we desire, so our numbers go back up.”
“Why orphanages? Why not influence the ones who are already grown or close to crossing planes?”
“Many mortal adults don’t listen to anything other than their own ego, stuffing it to the brim with self-satisfaction. However, the children are still willing to take in outside information and follow examples. Probably why we are here in the first place…”
The red figure raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a slow smile.
“So… we’re recruiting children to settle a cosmic performance review?” He let out a low, brief chuckle. “I can’t decide if that’s brilliant or pathetic.”
The white figure shrugged. “Perhaps brilliant, perhaps pathetic, perhaps both. Do you have any better ideas?”
He tapped his chin with a long, black nail. “I suppose not. And what do I get if I win your little competition? What’s in it for you?”
“How about if one wins, they get to ask the other any favor their heart desires?”
“Any favor?” The red figure raised his eyebrow as multiple fantasies popped into his head of what he’d ask his business partner—and rival.
A little story I've been working on for some time now. Got a piece of it mostly complete, save for some critique and grammatical assistance. I'm hoping that you will look at this piece today and help a cat out
Verse 1:
I walked through towns with stories untold
Words behind my back, like knives--
So cold
Tried to box me in plastic and grace
Yet, I made my own place
Yeah, my own place

Chorus:
Turning up eyes to the skies today
Because abusers feel no shame
No, they feel no shame
Breaking chains with thunder, not blame
Fill the silence with our names
Abusers feel no shame

Verse 2:
The moment you stop shrinking,
Burn bright through the pain
The chains don’t fall--
You tear them with flame
They said I was fragile, they called me by name
But I rose like thunder--and I’ll never be the same
The same

(Chorus)

Bridge:
Let them name your fears, burn those years
Every scar’s a closing door
You call it weakness, I call it war
No more—no more

(Chorus X2, Bridge)

Verse 3:
They try to bury you,
Show them you bloom
Grow wild in the places
They once called tombs
You carry the fire, you carry the flame
No one who sees you will leave the same
Not exactly a songwriter, but the chorus popped in my head and with a lil help from AI, I built on that. Let me know your thoughts

Small Edit: Changed "prisoners" to "abusers" due to it aligning more with the message
A rabbit hopped through the forest, grazing upon the grass when a venomous snake appeared nearby. "Come with me, little rabbit," he hissed, "You will never have to graze again or wander the forest in fear, I will protect you."

The rabbit looked at the snake, unsure of his words. "I've heard stories of you and how you **** my brethren, what you speak is not true!"

"Do not judge me by my brethren's actions, I am different from the othersss, I will not harm you" the snake's tongue flicked wildly as it slithered closer to the rabbit. Her heart beat faster, something inside her telling her to not go near the snake, but the prospect of safety too tempting to pass up.  

The rabbit hesitated before moving closer to the snake, but a bear rumbled "Stop, little rabbit, the stories you have heard are truth, you know it's truth too. Do not let him draw you in like he did your fallen kin" the bear points to the grass near the snake's tail. When the rabbit looked, she noticed a tuft of fur  wafting in the breeze. The snake hissed

"Simply a tuft in the grass that could have come from anywhere!" his body wriggled in frustration.
The rabbit noticed this and backed away
"Notice how he becomes impatient the more this conversation goes on. " the bear pointed out, "Why do you think this is?"

"I simply wish for my new friends safety! The longer we talk, the longer your safety is unsecured!" The snakes tongue flicked as his patience grew thinner.

The rabbit stepped back further, her breath unsteady. She glanced at the tuft of fur again, then at the bear, whose eyes held no flicker of deceit, only concern and strength.

Despite the rabbit's fear and the bears wisdom, the rabbit moved towards the snake. As she did, she could see his den nearby and looked deeper into it.
The closer she got, the clearer the den and inside the den became.

The snake followed her closely as the bear quietly growled. Before she stepped inside, she saw something in the den. A curved white object came into her view, it jutted out of the ground, splintered, drawing her eyes in as if it was a final warning of the snake's true intentions.

The rabbit backed away from the den, "What is that poking out of the ground?" She asked. The snakes tounge flicked through the air, but he had no answer. The rabbit feared the worst, turned towards the bear and ran to him.

"Where do you think you're going?" The snake hissed, the rabbit had no response as her legs moved for her. The snake struck at her and grabbed a tuft of fur, the rabbit narrowly escaping.

She hid under the bear as the snake sputtered and coughed. "You insolent fool!” the snake hissed. “My trust is destroyed because of you!”

The rabbit, catching her breath beneath the bear’s warm fur, stared him down.

“You’re wrong. I escaped your lies and your maw. You don’t lose trust when someone runs from your bite—you lose control.”

The snake reeled at her words, his coils twisting in rage. With a final hiss, he slithered away into the brush, eyes already scanning for another easy heart to devour.

The bear curled protectively around the rabbit, his breath slow and steady.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he murmured. “I feared losing you.”

The rabbit nuzzled into his fur, her body trembling with release. The forest, once thick with deception, now felt quiet. And for the first time, she felt safe.
Be wary of who says you can trust them. Very few are truly looking out for you. You will know when you are being fooled and trust that instinct, lest you be devoured by the snake's wicked ways.
It started with a dream and a few little seeds.

Creating something new—something truly yours—is never an easy road. There are no guarantees, no promises. But if you don’t try, how will you ever know what might have bloomed?

So I took my seeds, wrapped them in damp paper towels, and began my journey.

Within a couple of days, a seed or two had already popped. It was exciting—but with that excitement came pressure. Pressure to do it right. To keep them alive. To prove that I could do this, first try! (Because for some reason, that's how my brain works)

A few more days passed. Nothing changed. The paper towels had dried out despite my efforts to water regularly.

I thought I’d failed them. The sprouts looked brittle, barely holding on—and in that moment, it felt like my dream was slipping through my fingers.

But then I handed them to someone who had walked this path before. He looked at them, then looked at me and said:

“They’re still alive.”

And just like that, so was my dream.
This is a piece of a growing guide I'd like to create. I'm making the pieces now, as a beginner botanist in hopes to encourage others like me that they can do it too!

Expect more updates and I hope you will walk with me on my journey!
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