Jenifer Garner looked every inch the mom in control as she and estranged husband Ben Affleck picked up their daughters from karate class.

The actress, 43, strode out ahead clutching her cell phone in one hand and car keys in her other as the Argo star, also 43, followed behind with Violet, nine, and Seraphina, six, and carrying a canvas shopping bag.

Garner also had her wedding ring back on, but on the ******* of her left hand and not the ring finger.


Affleck, though, seems to have ditched his wedding ring altogether.

He hasn't been seen with it on for a couple of weeks at least, although when they first split the pair had made it known they'd still keep the gold bands on around their kids.

Rumors had started to swirl of a possible reconciliation between the two after they were seen leaving couples counseling together in Sana Monica on September 4.

But sources close to them moved quickly to quash any suggestion they might get back together, saying they were simply seeking professional help to guide them through the changes that divorce brings.

Affleck was a doting dad on Friday as he smilingly shepherded his daughters to the car as they snacked on apples.

The Good Will Hunting actor was dressed casually in an olive green t-shirt, black jeans and sneakers.

Seraphina wore a pretty light blue pinafore dress with a matching hairband and her favorite purple and pink Nike trainers.

Violet wore an all black workout ensemble with turquoise athletic shoes.

Not with them was the girls' younger brother Samuel, who's three.

The estranged couple are back in LA after Garner spent most of the summer filming Miracles From Heaven in Atlanta, Georgia, and Affleck was reprising his role as Batman for Suicide Squad in Toronoto, Canada.

With those projects in the can, it means they can focus more time on caring for their children as their divorce moves forward.

Affleck is also prepping his next project Live By Night, a Prohibition-era drama that he's written and plans to star in and direct.

The film based on the novel by Denis Lehane and set in Boston is scheduled to start filming in November.

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Somebody call Ben Affleck
We got phantoms in this *****
This endless haunted mansion
Their presence pervades
No company
In this lonely labyrinth
Only phantoms
The only figures resembling humanity
Are the corpses of those before
Who couldn't navigate this torturous structure
And of course, the masquerading phantoms
My soul they aim to puncture

I tried closing my eyes
But I just kept running into walls
I tried sleeping through it
But I just sank deeper into the basement
When I attempted to join the phantoms
You were there
You waited until I was hanging there
On the rope
And eviscerated everything
Lycanthrope
The rope in shreds
Your heart then fled
Leaving me alone again
Lying in my exhausted blood
The phantoms sensed my desperation
And took advantage of my disorientation
So I ran to the darkest recesses of the basement
To retrieve my blindfold and sledgehammer
But is my hammer powerful enough?
Will visual impairment abstain the trickery of ghosts?

I put Sisyphus to shame
With the determination I utilize to demolish these walls
But the phantoms are devious
They ***** new facades
Thicker, sturdier, with odder textures
I destroy them all the same
It just takes a bit more time
And time means nothing
To a man who's sole purpose is knocking down walls
And cowering from apparitions
Yet a man means nothing
To a time ruled by phantoms

He's jetted to Atlanta to spend time with his three children while his estranged wife shoots her new movie in the city.

And on Saturday Ben Affleck was spotted playing the role of doting dad perfectly as he treated two of his children Seraphina, 6, and Samuel, 3 to a fun day out.

The Batman Vs Superman star and his kids were spotted at a local farmer's market, with Ben, who announced his split from wife Jennifer in June, feeling the heat as he wiped away sweat during the shopping trip.


The 42-year-old actor looked tired as he walked around the market with his children, waiting as they stopped to check out toy and craft stalls.

Ben, who also shares Violet, 9, with his estranged wife, was seen driving to a private airport in Los Angeles on Friday to join his family in Atlanta, where Jennifer has relocated to film new movie Miracle From Heaven.

The dad of three wasted little time in exploring his new surroundings with his children on Saturday.

The actor dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and a Detroit t-shirt, the city where he spent much of last year shooting the hugely anticipated Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

Sporting a heavy beard, Ben was wearing his wedding ring, which he has been spotted with on multiple occasions since announcing his split from his wife of ten years on June 30.

The Hollywood star was spotted carrying a number of bags after an afternoon at the market, as well as a bright pink doll carrier.

Earlier in the day Jennifer, 43, joined her estranged husband as the former couple treated Violet, Seraphina and Samuel to a trip to the movies to see new Pixar film Inside Out, before a spot of shoe shopping.

Jennifer was also seen wearing her wedding band on Saturday, with a source telling People that the pair have decided to keep wearing the rings for their children.

'[They] are a big part of why they're still wearing [the rings]...they just want them to be okay,' said the insider.

The website added that as Jennifer films in Atlanta with their three children in tow, Ben 'plans to be there with them as much as he can.'

While Ben has flown to Atlanta to be with his children, the family's former nanny Christine Ouzounian, who has been at the centre of a media firestorm over whether of not she and Ben are having an affair, was spotted relaxing at the luxurious Hotel Bel Air in Los Angeles.

A source told People Wednesday that Ben 'is taking care of Christine's expenses at the hotel.'

At this time of year, room rates for one night at the exclusive resort start at around $1,000 on a weekday and $1,500 on a weekend, with fees increasing according to the size of the room or suite.

The hotel is situated on 12 acres of lush gardens and has 58 guestrooms and 45 suites, including seven one-of-a-kind specialty suites.

The 28-year-old was seen working on her tan earlier this week in a tiny black bikini and enjoying drinks at the hotel's poolside bar.

The pretty blonde, who was fired by Jennifer just over a month ago, appeared not to have a care in the world, despite the speculation over her and Ben.

Adding fuel to the fire, photos surfaced this week showing the Gone Girl star warmly welcoming Christine to his LA bachelor pad in a late night rendezvous on July 17.

Reps for Ben continue to deny any affair, saying the claims are 'complete garbage.'

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I think a lot about calling out sick.
Not so much for a cold, or an upset stomach
Not even a broken bone, no
I wish I could call out sick and say
"Hey, boss, I'm sorry, I can't come in today
I'm hallucinating  that the foliating leaves
Are leaves burning our world to the ground
I can't go outside or I'll burn"
And then he'd say to me
"Yeah, Mikey, no problem, hopefully someone puts those fires out for ya"
And I'd close all my blinds and keep all my lights off and hide under my blanket
And it would be okay
Or maybe I'd call in and say
"There are toxic germs slithering and trying to slide their way into my pores"
To which he'd tell me "We've all been there, take care of that ****, man"
And I'd spend four hours racking up my hot water bill in a boiling hot shower
That feels more like if I'd gone outside and felt the burning leaves land on my body
Or maybe I'd say to him
"Every single nightmare and demon from my past is screaming in my head
So loudly that I cannot hear a single thing in this room,
I don't even hear myself speaking to you right now, sir"
To which, I have no idea what he'd have be cause I couldn't hear it
But realistically, I would lose my job so fast, that,
Much like in a cartoon, when they run and kick up a dust cloud behind them
You'd see nothing that was there before, just the smoke
But tell me, if so many people call out sick because they decided to drink their demons away
Why can't I call in sick because of my demons?
Why is a hangover a good enough reason to call out
But locking yourself away from any and all pill bottles or sharp objects
Because you're too depressed to roll over and kiss your girlfriend goodbye
Before she leaves for work not good enough?
Why are we afraid to talk about mental illness, but Ben Affleck's divorce is all over magazine covers?
Why do we try to cover up what is very clearly a very real problem in this country
No, instead we talk about Caitlyn Jenner
Instead, we talk about Jennifer Lawrence, and her leaked naked pictures
Instead, we have passionate debates about the color of a dress
But we can't admit that the voices in our heads, or the panic in our hearts, or the depression in our souls, or the spinning in our minds, or the screaming in our ears are real
The only thing worse than feeling all of this
Is being too ashamed or too afraind to talk about it
We bury it like it's any old newspaper
When we should treat it like our mortgage papers
Or our tax refunds
We must stop shaming, or this generation is gonna be dead before they even get a chance
Yeah, I think a lot about calling out sick
And saying "I apparently spent all night on the bathroom floor having a panic
Because I woke up here with no memory, and my head is spinning and my body aches
My hands can't move from the stiffness of slamming them into the floor all night
My eye is swollen shut from when I fell to the floor and smacked it off the sink"
And he'd tell me "Put some ice on that ****, Mikey. I'll see ya tomorrow."

I used to take every bit of pain,
Rage burning, building, breaking me
I used to take it and place it on Ben Affleck
A shrine for my disappointment
A religion created to spare you my anger,
Funny how I couldn't hate him,
When I realized you were both the same Devil.

get your ***** ******* grubs off of me,
i am not going to bargain
a cartesian dualism with the notion
that the body can overcome the mind
with exercise gimmicks:
you, *******, guinea nimwit!
        i used to slap my grandfather's
sheen on a bold, but otherwise
bald cranium for jokes,
  and flick his remaining hairs into
the air to reveal a hidden jack
nicholson, i also called the police
and had him institutionalised with
psychiatric aid, for throwing my
grandmother through a glass door and
breaking her arm...
       me?! you'll get more
apologetic "nuance" about drinking
from a priest than from, me!
         i turn ugly, silently,
       i just abhore this antique deal
with descartes,
               i don't know why why that
the body can overcome the mind...
or why blankety-blank trivia is to solve
the matter...
or whether pumping iron helps...
      by this point i''m not writing:
i'm coal-mining, i'm digging...
               the body, however perfect
will not unravel the problems of the mind,
attaining body antics perfected only
stalls the otherwise still present:
problems of the mind.
                       toxicology reports read:
adrenaline *****.
             sebastian mc'queer miss-match
between a cocktail waitress,
  a ******* bunny and a bartender named:
shteeve.
                 ******* waste of time
by my rubric of arithmetic...
  but at least ben affleck wasn't the worst
batman,
      we all know that george clooney was.
we have finally arrived at a loss
of mind-body dualism,
   we have achieved a dichotomy,
finally!
       we can, for the first time,
fathom clear segregating posits,
indicators,
                    membranes!
whatever noun you use -
                 the joke about schizophrenia,
is that it's not a joke concerning
        premature depression -
premature depression is more unusual
than premature dementia -
      there's the bicimeral theory
to begin with...
           unless of course you're dealing
with snowflakes who want languaage
as rigid as possible,
      readied for the acceptance of it,
like any type of i.k.e.a. put it together,
yourself, manual...
the mundane aspect of the whole affair
only breeds a gagging effect,
like choking on a 12" **** with your nose
pinched-shut,
  ******* disgusting;
  if i really wanted to draw a straight line
i wouldn't necessarily obligate language
to latex ******* *******...
           i'd be the one
adding oil to the fire, and wanting
unadulterated chaos,
  before the hell-fire focus of: inferno...
for language is just that:
   i abhor the term poet,
i prefer the term...
                               pyrotechnician...
i do not write poetry:
   i cement myself in pyrotechnics.
    i abhor this dualism -
            this notion that a sick mind can
be mended by being worked on by
a invigorated body,
      or that a sick body can be mended by
being worked on by an
invigorated mind...
   odd... to have such vehement emotions
surrounds a mere idea...
that there is no mind-body dualism,
but that there's a mind-body dichotomy...
and that there's only a mind-mind dualism
that, given the cartesian concept brideges
upon the res extensa: the extended thing,
whereby the mind-mind dualism
disintegrates when the notion of a, soul,
is involved / invested in,
perhaps as concrete rubric, or perhaps
as a mere cognitive, hobby...
  let us simply add:
   there are those who bow and pray and
pay due diligence to a god...
  while others, neither procrastinate themselves,
nor day allegiance to a, deity -
for there is so much more involvement in
entertaining the thought of a...
deity...
             and these cognitive
acrobatics never allow for a yawn
to be present, in their ritualistic endeavours,
with due need, or due, cause.

p.s. i think people really underestimate
schizophrenics, the abnormality of it
is fascinating...
      as is the case with the endeavour of
finding a soul, or as i like to call it:
the osmosis of psyche overpowering the mind,
and creating a mind-body dichotomy
rather than enforcing a mind-body "dualism"...
psychosis.
                   it's a shame how people
under-appreciate a mind-mind dualism...
a dualism, split, yet nonetheless whole...
     cf. julian jaynes...
                      but what isn't fascinating
is premature depression...
   that's just plain ******* tragic...
i can understand depression in old people,
who have actually accomplished something
in their lives...
but when it concerns youngsters?
completely unfathomable and
                    uninteresting to me,
on the basis that it's so abnormal that
it's suicidal and completely averted to
the otherwise schizoid exploratory tendency
of reintegrating a disintegrating form
of language structure... perhaps that's
a post-modernist statement...
but the "sane" always cite
being perplexed by language that's:
   non-instructive; b'aah b'aah...
******* herds, do we always have to whip
them into submission and cohort?
  yes, yes, the open end hyphen grammar
   -cohort-, that's transcendental grammar,
it's not supposed to be a noun,
rather, an adjective by-and-of-itself
revealing of the submissive character of
strict, military, discipline!
my ambition was never to write
a ******* i.k.e.a. manual for a: do it yourself
take on a folding chair!

Oh darling, I hope
you understand, I only slept
with you because you look
so devastatingly similar to
Ben Affleck, merely
for the fantasy of the
thing. You must understand
this sort of coincidence doesn't
come around all of the time.
I'm so terribly sorry if
I gave you any sort of false pretense.
Oh love, don't give me that look,
it's just I adored him in
Argo. You remember that one?
With all those cute business
men running around trying
to make a movie? Oh but love,
it wasn't a real movie, you see? And there was that Ben
of yours with that beard, Oh darling, you have
his jawline I am sure of it.
Oh sweetheart, it was a delightful film.
We must watch it together sometime, I
promise you won't regret it. Oh, look at the
clock, it is time to be getting on, isn't it? I shall
most defnitely give you a call in the coming days,
won't I? Perhaps we can get dinner,
wouldn't that be nice? Yes, yes, I think it would be.
Me and my Benjamin, oh love, we look so cute together,
there is no doubt, but I must be getting on, there are
so many things to do, you understand I'm sure?

I'm over you
just like Jennifer Garner is over Ben Affleck.

As I stroked gently the head of the sun-spun hair draped
softly across my chest, I couldn’t help but find myself
thinking, for what must have been the hundredth time,
what are you thinking, how are you feeling?
What have we done to each other?
Yet, as if on cue, as if reading my thoughts,
your head snapped up and your eyes met mine.
You looked at me half-lidded and while my first
two questions remained unanswered, I realized it
was merely a catchlight I saw in your eyes, and
what we had done to each other was ***** out the
starlight that had once dwelled there.


“When I think of my wife, I always think of her head. I picture cracking her lovely skull, unspooling her brains, trying to get answers. The primal questions of any marriage. What are you thinking? How are you feeling? What have we done to each other?” —Ben Affleck, Gone Girl

Found poem from the opening lines of the movie, Gone Girl.