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InitialsDiceBearhttps://github.com/dicebear/dicebearhttps://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/„Initials” (https://github.com/dicebear/dicebear) by „DiceBear”, licensed under „CC0 1.0” (https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/)M
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22
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272
Joined
2 yr. ago

  • I mean say what ya want but running with friends is great.

    At least you thought it was.

    Sam was just next to you a second ago, and then all of a sudden his heavy breathing went silent. You want to call out but the sound of gunfire silences you. You serpentine through the woods to try and avoid the bullets, but one grazes your shoulder. You keep sprinting as you hear the gun reloading. You come to a ravine as the trees get thicker. This is your chance to lose him. You zag along the stream for 50 feet and then run up to the wooded forest. You keep moving, never letting up. He who hesitates is dead.

    In the clearing you find a shed- perhaps you can find something to hide under. You open the doors and you step back in horror. Sam was separated into 3 distinct pieces. Your heart drops as you see your friend, your brother in arms from the 22 battalion, lifeless in front of you. You go to leave the shed immediately, but when you go to open the door, it's locked.

    He found you.

    You look to the shadows quickly to see where he is, but the shed is empty. You go back to the door but again, it won't budge. As you go to the windows, you begin to smell gasoline seeping in under the floorboards, and then the sound of a match strike.

    Within seconds the shed was ablaze. You begin to slam your boddy against the door- it needs to open. It must open. It starts to become hard to breathe, but you can't stop. The flames are beginning to lick your clothes as you feel the burns developing on your body. You keep rushing the door until finally you hear the wood splinter. Your burned body breaks through the door, but you fall immediately to the ground. While the fresh cool air comes as a relief to the lungs, the bark, twigs, leaves and dirt tear through your fragile skin. You yell in pain as you roll over to see the shed collapse from its own weight as the flames consumed the rest of it.

    There was no doubt now that Sam was dead.

    But that thought quickly broke as you felt the heal of a boot come down on your chest. You look up into the barel of a shotgun, and behind it is who you feared the most. The one your father told you about every night in his ghost stories when you were a child. You thought he was just a myth, but there he was.

    Shia LaBeouf

    Also usually when I run with my sister I play music and we have a traveling dance party, it's great!

  • Honestly, that's the way to do it. Just dress right, but push through. It doesn't matter if it's cloudy, rainy, snowing, hailing- you RUN. You know you can't stop. You have to find a way out. You pull out your phone to turn on the flashlight, but just as you get the flash to turn on, the At&t logo came up and your phone died. But in the flash you could swear you saw a barn in the distance, or at least something metallic. You keep moving towards it until you hear a car pull up. You didn't realize there was a road so close by, but as the headlights scan across the trees, you see what you thought was a Barn.

    The cold lifeless eyes of Sam gazed past you as you are forced to see what remained of him. He had bled out from the throat, and it was clear that an animal didn't do this because the cut was clean and the knife used was pinning him into the tree. You shriek as the your friend who you knew since a child lay before you, but immediately find cover when you hear the car door slam shut. The light from the headlights stayed on as blades of light streamed past you into the forest beyond. You could hide in the shadows, but you don't know if they saw you, so you decided to stay put while you hear footsteps stumble through the forest. The leaves are crunching around, but not in any particular direction so you might have a chance. You press yourself closely to the tree when you hear the footsteps stop. Any hope you had of hiding was done and you knew it. It's time. Run.

    You bolt out from the tree and run to the car that was still running. You hear an animalistic roar come from the thing that found you. You had a head start, and you are making the most of it. "Push push push" you tell yourself. You were a runner since a child and this is what you prepared for. You sprint to the car to find it's a 1990s Ford pickup truck. There's rust on the hood but the door is open. You get inside and close the door. The keys were left in the ignition so you slam reverse, turn around, and speed down the road.

    You are driving as fast as you can as you hear the gravel popping and flying as you go. You look down at the fuel gauge and see that you are almost empty. You panic. Where are you going? You don't know, you just know you are going AWAY. Your heart suddenly lifts as you see a freeway sign ahead. You head for it, when suddenly the rear window smashes open. In your panic you hit the gas more, but the road curved. You swerve to catch the turn but you over steer. You slam on the break but it's too late. You see a tree flash in your headlights just as you smashed into it. Your head hits the steering wheel and you blackout for a moment, coming back dazed and confused, but you feel a hand at your throat. He had played the long game. He set the trap, and you took the bait. He waited for you every step of the way, and even when you pulled off the impossible, he still had you. Through the mashed window, the bloodied hand pulls you back out into the darkness. You finally get a good look. You heard the stories but you never wanted to believe them, but here he was, flesh and blood taking you to your death. Here he was.

    Shia LaBeouf.

    So basically you get to choose the kind of day you have, no matter the weather.

  • This reminds me of how when I was young, my dad would get us an extra order of desert when mom left to use the restroom. It was the best dad move. Ofc I was an anxiety case while trying to eat the ice cream before mom got back, it was that intense anxiety where it felt something was following you. Do you know? No. All you know is that every fiber in your being told you you needed get out of that old warehouse as soon as possible. You keep running, avoiding roots and rocks. You keep second guessing yourself. Where we alone? You look to see if Sam followed you but he's nowhere to be seen. You swear you two looked at eachother with the same chill just moments ago. You call out to him, but you hear nothing. You slow down and turn around but the sun has already set and the trees shroud any sense of direction. You call out again, but regret it instantly.

    The weight of something big is coming.

    You pick a direction and go in an all out sprint. You don't know where you are going but know whatever has been tracking you is behind you. You are now shrieking call for Sam but he is long gone. The ground below you shifts as you come to a steep decline. You stumble but catch yourself, only to find the moss on the ground won't hold you. You slip and roll into a ravine, and as you fall your ankle hits a rock. You don't know if it's broken but at this point you know that whatever is behind you is worse than the pain of each step. You are limping but moving, but now you are losing ground. The bushes burst open behind you and in the shock you fall back down, firmly breaking the leg you tried so hard to ignore. You turn over while you writhe in pain to see what remained of Sam being held by what couldn't be a man but couldn't be a beast. He comes forward smelling the air furiously. You didn't want to believe it, but Sam was taken and soon you will be too. In your final moments, a face finally comes 2 inches from yours.

    You didn't want to believe things could go south so fast. You didn't want to believe Sam was dead. You didn't want to believe you never would sleep in your bed or eat rainbow Sherbet again. You didn't want to believe your eyes when you saw him-

    Shia LaBeouf.

    Anyway when mom came back dad would always take the heat for us, but he's a funny guy and mom couldn't stay mad for long.

  • I got so much financial anxiety from that.

    Are you ok. Do you need money for food.

  • Women are so cute and I think they are going to be able to get together and get some food for the rest of the week so I'll get them to the store and let them know what I can do to help them out.

    👍

  • I think it is fair to judge Biden by his record more than his accute gaffs. He's old af, so on a minute to minute basis, he's unable to keep a coherent thought. But if you look at what he does in a more macro sense, his administration has been brilliant. It's the entire "I'm smart in my head but I can't fully articulate it" situation. Basically he has solid philosophy, he just can't sell it anymore.

    Frankly, if Biden didn't have to go into the public, he would be a great president for the next 4 years (with the support he has). Harris will be sharper in public, and I think she will take the Biden positions one step further.

    Ultimately to win elections, Democrats need to be better story tellers. They keep pulling up statistics and data, but they need to create a more visceral message. The GOP fear monger with stories of "an immigrant invasion", but Dems have yet to create a blockbuster "women dying of lack of abortion access" story. I mean those stories are out there, they just need better messengers.

  • Are people who learn via videos, audio media, or social interaction dumber?

  • Nah I learned words reading memes and take out menus

  • English is actually an amazing language for improvising words. The Frankensteinification of our language is awesome for wordsmithing. The jabberwocky is a poem that fit best in the English language.

    Also I had to fit "maybe we will" into two syllables for a song, and it works. "Maybe'l" gets the point across well.

  • There better be a whoopie cushion on it 🥵😈

  • I will not stand for this bobophobia.

  • Bahaha I mean there was a mountain of other things, it just was that this was the last straw.

  • Okay this hits too hard.

    My high school girlfriend was always great at giving me gifts. I thought "wow she's amazing at knowing what to get me!"

    I had one moment of foreshadowing when she was able to buy me a bow tie I saw on a guy because his name was Michael and he was in Seattle.

    One day I was being a silly goose while waiting for her to get ready for the pride parade, and I began flipping things in her room upside down.

    I flipped over a notebook with my name on it.

    I decided since it had my name on it I could peak, and oh boy.

    It was a journal with the day, time, what I did, what I said, dating back to before we met

    I broke things off shortly after.

  • The UK bit makes more sense, I can hear the accent.

    I thought it was about the Teineman square tank man with the bags, and Tankie's were on the side of the tanks. I mean it's the same concept but yours goes back further.

  • That totally works for legato, but if you are going for that "mwAAAAAAaaaaaa" it wouldn't really work. I may be mixing up my notation though - am I thinking glissando?

    Edit: Also I know it's common usage of "ta-ka" and "da-ga" but it reminds me of my trombone teacher who died in a car crash on the way to my lesson. Grant was awesome and the first teacher to tell me I was good at my horn. I miss him and think about him every time I warm up my horn.

    Edit edit: here's my eulogy I wrote for him (I'm drunk at an airport and emotional)

    There is something special about the language of music- it is universally understood. Even if the time signature is foreign and the key signature is strange, it still is accessible to all who take a moment to hear it. It is a love language, and one that Grant was fluent in.

    I met Grant by wonderful accident. I had played trombone for many years having been self taught. Lessons scared me as I had memories of frustrated sighs and angry faces telling me that I was not meeting some standard. But when I met Grant, it was apparent there was an understanding. He knew that music wasn't about proving yourself a virtuoso in the Chicago Philharmonic, it was about emotional connection. It was about love.

    We worked together to not only build on fundamentals that I missed, but to grow into the avant-garde. We broke the form together and made discoveries with use of my looping pedal and menagerie of instruments. This fit so well with his history. He would reminisce about his time in Chicago, just a few blocks away from me where he worked at a little known music store called the "Warehouse". Many may not know the significance of this place, but in the 80's it was a place of revolutionary music. It was the birth of house music, and he was there at the beginning

    He knew music in the bravest way. He was not afraid to put himself out there- his brass funk group had videos that you can see where he was filled with happiness and the spirit of fun. He shared that fun with me. Possibly the greatest gift he gave me was the confidence to know that I was a compitent player. He was the only teacher to say he was impressed with my progress. What made him a great teacher was that he taught from a place of love, he made sure that I looked forward to practicing, that I was not afraid of the one thing that gave me the most joy in the world. That patience and caring showed through- I am confident many can attest to this as well.

    Grant spoke the language of music fluently. He knew the syntax, the phrasing, and the love that built the connections to all those he touched. He poured his heart into mine with every lesson. I will cherish that learning and will fill others with his legacy. I will miss him, but every time I pick up my horn and take that meditative breath, I know he will be there telling me "relax Alex, find the tone, feel the music, you will do great".

  • I don't see where the post shows treble clef. I'm still on the fence on the slurs, although I could be mixing up glissandos.

    You may be referring to the comment, but that wasn't what I was referring to.

  • I think as the orb meme trend fades, we should come in with trombone posting.

  • You know, violin makes more sense- half of those slurs make 0 sense on trombone.

  • Rule

    Jump
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