The Wheelhouse - Week 2 - Day 2

Jun. 30th, 2025 10:22 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
 The poll for Week 2 is up: 

Make sure you check it out, read some new favorites and of course keep getting the word out! 


***

What sort of Chaos has the Wheel of Life brought into your life THIS week? 

On the plus side, the Governor gave all state workers an extra day off. Yay. 

On the negative side, that means I'll have one day without work distractions to keep me occupied. 

*looks over at the wheel and smiles* Maybe I'll have to find something else to do...  :) 

Seriously though, thanks for being here. It really means a lot to me. Especially now. 

Rebuilding journal search again

Jun. 30th, 2025 03:18 pm
alierak: (Default)
[personal profile] alierak posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance
We're having to rebuild the search server again (previously, previously). It will take a few days to reindex all the content.

Meanwhile search services should be running, but probably returning no results or incomplete results for most queries.

The Accusation

Jun. 29th, 2025 08:33 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
In Traitors/Werewolf/Mafia/Your reference here - when people come together and make this sort of accusation, the person selected is exiled from the community.

I decided not to go that far with this. :)

But also decided to "out" them to the public. Because if they are in fact the Killer, people need to know!!!

I can give you the following information:

There were 13 different suspects receiving votes. 3 of them were 1 vote shy of tying. The rest were 2 votes shy of that mark. Which makes sense. People are gathering information and playing hunches, in hopes of stopping the murder spree in it's infancy.

The group has named [personal profile] roina_arwen  as the prime suspect!

***
We will have to wait and see if there are any more poisonings this week, or if the angry mob of Idolers got it right the first time!






Vote - Week 2

Jun. 29th, 2025 08:01 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
A few words from [personal profile] clauderainsrm:

On one hand, there are quite a few “byes” this week, which is bad. But on the other, that means there is more time for you to read and enjoy those entries that DID make it in on time!

So make sure to read, comment and vote for your favorites, to keep encouraging them on this journey of sheer terror!

Speaking of sheer terror, [personal profile] erulissedances decided to leave the manor before the vote. Which - one, sad for me that I lose one more person to torture, and bad for the rest of you because I asked the wheel if it would count as one of the eliminated numbers. (Standard Idol policy is that it *would NOT*, however this time the Wheel rules. So I asked)

Which means there are also (spins the wheel, watches as it slows to its final destination) 2 contestants with the fewest votes leaving us this week as well! (Don’t forget, the contestant with the fewest votes WHO IS NOT ELIMINATED will be receiving the Nullifier!


The poll closes Thursday July 3rd at 8pm ET.

Good luck to everyone!



Poll #33302 ’WheelofChaos-Week2’
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: Just the Poll Creator, participants: 22

Vote For Your Favorites!

adoptedwriter's entry
4 (18.2%)

adore's entry
7 (31.8%)

alycewilson's entry
10 (45.5%)

autumn_wind's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

bleodswean's entry
10 (45.5%)

drippedonpaper's entry
3 (13.6%)

eeyore_grrl's entry
9 (40.9%)

fausts_dream's entry
6 (27.3%)

flipflop_diva's entry
12 (54.5%)

garnigal's entry
3 (13.6%)

gunwithoutmusic's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

hafnia's entry
7 (31.8%)

halfshellvenus's entry
8 (36.4%)

i0ne's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

impoetry's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

inkstainedfingertips's entry
5 (22.7%)

kizzy's entry
6 (27.3%)

krispykritter's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
1 (4.5%)

legalpad819's entry
7 (31.8%)

marjorica's entry
6 (27.3%)

matsushima's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

muchtooarrogant's entry
9 (40.9%)

murielle's entry
6 (27.3%)

oxymoron67's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

rayaso's entry
8 (36.4%)

roina_arwen's entry
7 (31.8%)

serpentinejacaranda's entry
5 (22.7%)

simplyn2deep's entry
9 (40.9%)

static_abyss's entry
8 (36.4%)

swirlsofpurple's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

talonkarrde's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

tonithegreat's entry
6 (27.3%)

used_songs's entry
5 (22.7%)

wolfden's entry
8 (36.4%)

xeena's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
2 (9.1%)

murielle: Me (Default)
[personal profile] murielle
LJIdol: Wheel of Chaos

Prompt 2: If it’s any consolation

25-06-28

 

(AN: My entry this week is inspired by Roina_Arwen’s question to me regarding one aspect of my entry last week. Thankk you, Roina!

 

“If you don’t mind me asking—and you don’t have to answer if you’d rather not—but I’m curious how a medication could put you back decades in your recovery?

I’m sorry to hear that you have to deal with this. *gentle hugs*”)

 

 

 

“If it’s any consolation it only lasts two years.” Although, I never had a medical professional say this to me in all my years living with ME/CFS, et al., there were enough lay people who said it to me to make it memorable. At first, it gave me some hope, but as the years wore on, and at best there was no change in my health, I learned to let it go in one ear and out the other. Oh, I’d smile and say thank you, or some such thing to let them know I appreciated their concern and kindness, but from time to time I’d tell them how long I’d been ill. That usually ended the conversation.

 

To give you a little perspective, I turned seventy in February this year and I’ve been diagnosed since I was thirty-eight. Before I was diagnosed I was ill for about eight or nine years. Though, I strongly suspect I had ME/CFS, et al., since childhood.

 

A brief history: Myalgic Encephalomyelitis has been on the WHO list of series illness (as serious as heart disease according to them) since the year I was born, 1955. In the sixties along came a psychiatrist in the UK who decided there’s money in “dat there disease” and declared it was a psychosomatic condition and should be treated as such. (I’m a little biased, here.) He and his cohorts successfully co-opted Myalgic Encephalomyelitis and since then those of us who have it have not only had to battle the ignorant masses, but also certain un/illinformed medical professionals. He has since (after his death) been debunked, but sadly too late for many people who suffered horribly because of his assertions. Insurance companies loved him. Probably still do.

 

In the mid 1980’s the CDC also added Myalgic Encephalomyelitis to their roster, and some bright boy decided to rebrand it, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Later, when those suffering from the disease demanded he explain himself, he said, “I was only kidding.” Some joke. That moniker is so prejucical. Think of all the chronics in our world: chronic complainers, chronic drinkers, chronic liars, chronic...well, you get the idea. Fatigue? Oh that’s a good one, too. Most people respond with, well, I get tired too, so I must have it. And the coup de grace? Syndrome. Well, isn’t that just loaded with positive conotations?

 

Okay, back to me.

 

It took eight or nine years to get a diagnoses. Meantime, my GP, determined that I was just a middle-aged single (read miserable) woman suffering from depression even though I explained repeatedly I wasn’t depressed I just had no energy, put me on Prozac. Except, it made me suicidal. For two years he kept me on that medication all the time pretending he was trying me on something new. He was a huge man, with hands the size of (sorry cliché) dinner plates. He’d go off to his office and come back into the examination room with a huge number of pills, taken out of their packaging, loose in just their foil wrappers. “Try these. They’ll help.” I’d return when they were finished with the same reactions. Weight gain, heightened depression, they’re not working. And we’d go through the charade again. I finally discovered what he’d done when I got hold of my medical transcripts. Two years, listed over and over, Prozac. My first (?) atypical, but not unheard of or undocumented, reaction to a medication, to that medication.

 

I proably already had Multiple Chemical Sensitivity, but was undiagnosed.

 

In the mid 1990’s I began seeing a specialist. My second specialist actually, but she knew her stuff because she also had all the conditions. She ran a huge battery of tests and diagnosed me with all three conditions: ME/CFS, Fibromyaltia, and Multiple Chemical Sensitivity. She refered me to two other specialists. (All three are retired now.) And so began several decades of tyring this or that medication to see if it improved any of the symptoms, had any effect at all, or made things worse. Very rarely did I get positive results and when I did I couldn’t afford said treatment.

 

Over the course of my illness I saw four specialists. At one time or another, each of them told me I was among their sickest patients. As much as I appreciated their concern, I didn’t believe them. I believe that much like Autism, ME/CFS is on a spectrum. There are those who are mildly affected, who don’t have as much energy as they used to, who have to limit their activities until they are able to resent and recuperate. And on the other extreme are those who are confined to lie in a dark room, clad only in diapers, hooked up to IVs for fluids and nutrition, who cannot tolerate noise of any kind, including voices above a whisper, and fragrances, or chemicals.of any kind. I cannot imagine the extent of the pain, grief and loss they and their loved ones suffer. While I have had periods (sometimes fairly long stretches) when I am bed bound, and while I am largely home bound now I am still able to be pretty independent and self-determining. It just takes me longer to get anything done.

 

Medication is a challenge for all of us with these conditions, but for those of us with MCS, it’s more so. We just never know how we’re going to react to anything, new, or even something we’ve been taking for a while. For instance, for two years I had the worst diarreah. I couldn’t leave my home because I never knew when it was going to hit, for how long, or how much warning I’d get. I tried everything I could think of, asked questions, worried and even wept over it. One day as happens from time to time I ran out of one of my suplements and had no way to get any for serveral days. The diarreah stopped. Just like that. I had developed a sensitivity to magnesium. I didn’t get or take any for a few months and the diareah stayed away. Over time, I was able to reintroduce my body to it, slowly. And while I still don’t take the dosage my doctor had oringinally put me on, I can now take enough to help me, and not harm me.

 

At one time I was on three different sleep medications at the same time: one to put me to sleep, one to keep me asleep, and one to relax me enough to that the first medication could actually work and put me to sleep. This treatment, while fairly common, didn’t really do much for me. I ended up developing Pica. Not to the point that I was eating dirt, but I was eating in my sleep, which was terrifying.

 

And while I’ve been on pain maintenance for decades sometimes it’s just so bad I need something stronger. My doctor prescribed straight codeine for me to take as needed, taking it combined with anything else makes me very ill. Knowing how sensitive I am she prsecribed the lowest doze she could, 15 milligrams. It was too much. So, I cut the tiny pills in half. Still too much. I cut the halves in half. The quarter doze, 3.75mgs, only knocks me out for two or three days. So when the pain gets so bad I need to take the “big guns” I have to carefully weigh the cost. Pain over losing up to three whole days of my life? “Sometimes Si, sometimes no.”

 

There is no way to know to which medication I will react negatively, or will have any affect at all. It’s a crap shoot--more like Russian Roulette.

 

And so, last Fall, my doctor (whom I adore, she’s great) decided after a couple of years of nagging—wait! Doctors don’t nag, they advise—advising me to take blood pressure medication I agreed to try it. She again, put me on the lowest doze and instructed the Pharmacy to half the pills before sending them out to me. I started taking it, not right away, but when I knew I’d have some buffer time if I didn’t react well.

 

I honestly didn’t know what had hit me. I went from being able to be up and doing this and that to being completely bedridden. Unable to get up except to go to the bathroom once or twice a day. I don’t remember bathing or eating. I was back to the dark ages before I made any progress at all. And at first I was too ill to figure it out, but then when I could, I started to go through everything asking what had changed in the past weeks. The only thing was the medication. I ate the same things, I wore the same things, I did the same things.

 

I live a very limited life. Very controlled. Well, to the best of my ability.

 

It took twenty-five years from my diagnoses to get to the point where I could do a small laundry every week, go grocery shopping, and do some light housework. This may not seem like much, but it was enormous to me. It was tremendous progress and I felt I was finally on the road to recovery. And then I moved.

 

I moved from my third-floor walk-up apartment that I’d lived in for twenty-eight and a half years down to the first (ground) floor for my health. So I would not have to climb all those stairs every time I went out, even just to take my garbage out.

 

Bad move.

 

Do not pass go, return to zero and start over.

 

Okay. Been there, done that. Now, I was fifty-five. And starting from scratch again. But, at least I knew what to do and what to avoid. So, better, yes.

 

So, here I am now. My days consist of getting up, making breakfast, having to go back to bed and sleep for two or three hours, get up, try to do some chores, go back to bed sleep for another two or three hours, etc., etc., etc.

 

Everything gets weighed against the cost. If I do my dishes before I go back to bed, will I be able to do anything else? If I push and do the dishes and dust, when will I be able to vacuum, or write for Idol, or take a phone call from a friend? Pushing really isn’t an option, but sometimes I just have to, like Friday. I spent the day prepping food for Sabbath and the week ahead because I knew I could rest Saturday. That’s my life right now. That’s where I am. I’m trying to rebuild myself again so that I can move forward feel better, do more.

 

There’s a verse in the Bible about counting the cost, (it’s a bit out of context, but you get the point) boy does my experience with ME/CFS et al., drive that home to me.

 

Luke 14:28-30:

  • Jesus asks, "For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it? Lest after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, 'This man began to build and was not able to finish'".

 

 

 

 

bleodswean: (Default)
[personal profile] bleodswean
If it’s any …
 
It isn’t.
 
I just thought …
 
Don’t. Your thoughts are. Hesitation. Rudimentary. But sincere. I recognize that.
 
Well. For most …
 
Stop. Please. I’m not most.
 
Silence, broken then with. 
 
There is no comfort, no consolation, you see? There is only a letting go. My releasing. Mine. It is a great sluicing of water from off the skin when surfacing out of the depths. A leprosy in which the body sheds its recognizable humanity. Akin to fire, flooding, all the great equalizers of the human spirit is loss. 
 
No pain can be endless.
 
Time lessens, nothing heals. Perhaps the final loss, the dissolution of self. There is that momentary pause in which the soul tells the self rest rest rest now. With those strange urgent shushings the mind exhales and closes an interior eye and the soul sighs and the body relaxes. 
 
Always with the most extreme of analogies.
 
It’s how I process. How I’m formed. The shape of me in this incarnation is allegorical. I admit it. Is it unbearable of me to explain a poetic inclination? 
 
Of course not. 
 
Catch me in one of those expirations then. That numbing prelude to a sleep brought on by the physical and existential exhaustion of the quivering small beast caught in the snare incapable of the final severing of the trapped limb. Perhaps, between respirations I will show gratitude for whatever platitude you long to utter. With such kindness in the dulcet tones of your compassion. 
 
So insulting. But I forgive you.
 
It is no kindness to me. I’m admitting this to you now so that there can be no misunderstanding between us afterwards. In the quiet of acceptance, in the weaking of the bleeding out. You offered me not a ligature, not even a bandage, only the word bandage. Followed by an expectation of a deed done well. Yet, I will nod and listen insomuch as I am able before the next suck breath moment in which I am once again filled with not a gain but a loss. Filled with loss, if you can imagine such a thing. You who have been unlucky to suffer not. Yes, I say unlucky, yes, I call you cursed for your wholeness, your innocence of these mortal woundings, of the soul’s agonies. 
 
And you, I suppose, are blessed by this devastation?
 
Confounded and cast out by the privilege of cataclysmic injury yet I finger the beads and whisper the prayers and allow my eyes to roll back in their sockets from the sheer unknowingness of meaning, the definition of absolutes. Our mother, our father. All these soulful beings arting in their heavens. There is a consecration in catastrophe. 
 
I disagree. You are martyring yourself to this.
 
Martyr? Laughing. This laying on of hands while the blade is hidden in the sleeve, dropped into the palm, the knife snicking out plunging into the heart between the ribs through the lungs a great sucking sound when its pulled back out. Taking life itself with it. The body heartbeating to death through the collapsing arteries.
 
All this because I wanted nothing more than to offer succor.
 
Are you familiar with the consolation prize, my friend? 
 
Certainly, narrowly failing to win.
 
No, finishing last. 
 
Yet recognized! 
 
I don’t want to be recognized for my wounding. Your sympathy is of no value to me. Only to you. So, in an earnest effort to be brotherlike, to recognize that you too will one day bleed, I bite my tongue at refusing your solace. Give it here. In great bucketloads. Pour it out and over me. I’ll hold my breath to keep from drowning in your mollification. It offers some respite, admittedly, to others. 
 
It’s that you can’t bear to be likened to others.
 
halfshellvenus: (Default)
[personal profile] halfshellvenus
Shortcomings
Idol Wheel Of Chaos | Week 2 | 1738 words
If It's Any Consolation

x-x-x-x-x

Derg was a dwarf, one of the last of his kind in the Regent's kingdom. He lived in a damp cave deep inside the Blighted Hills, where he wove moss into clothing and practiced the art of metalworking.

There were no other dwarfs in the Hills or nearby villages, so Derg lived alone, which he did not like. Something else he did not like was being mistaken for a troll. Every week, when Derg went to market, he watched the kingdom's other residents back away as he passed by, every one of them leery of being forced to solve riddles. I'm nothing like a troll! he thought. Do they even look past the beard?

Little did they know that Derg also hated riddles. Riddles were tricksy, and they made him feel stupid. And short. Somehow, they always made him feel short.

Read more... )

If you enjoyed this story, please vote for it along with any of your other favorites here!

104°. (Ljidol wheel of chaos week 2)

Jun. 28th, 2025 02:14 pm
[personal profile] eeyore_grrl
 
                 104*

it's 104 degrees on my naked body
if it's any consolation
         they say
it's a dry heat
but 100 is a 100 is a 100
and heat is hot

a cool mist sprays fine water droplets
occasionally covering me

i read poolside
my kindle my friend 
                                         amongst strangers
my husband my love 
                                          amongst newness
how do you make friends at a nudist resort
and i wonder
         if i want to
we are here to be us
we are here to relax
we are not looking for the insundry
the un.... sanitary

not this time
not today

but it's a dry heat
                        (they say)
        and i wonder
         what fever dreams connect here
         i wonder
         if my skin reddens
         because it sees the sun
         or because eyes see me

if it's any consolation
         they say
it's a dry heat

        perhaps,
                              i won't get wet 
                                                             after all




.
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
 I'm not going into detail right now, but let's just say this has been one of the worst weeks of my life. (so far) Sometimes that's the way the wheel spins.  I will say thought that it started Wednesday night after the poll closed, so I'm really glad I had everything written out and ready to go, otherwise none of those other posts would have been made. Far too much chaos!!  Like I said, sometimes the wheel is like that. 

Hope all of you are doing better than that. 

The deadline for the prompt is TOMORROW night: therealljidol.dreamwidth.org/1186386.html



The
re are quite a few of you who haven't finished yet. So hopefully you are get it ready to post! 

***

Oh yeah, the first antidote has been distributed to the person with the most votes, and has been distributed to her choice. I guess we will see in a few weeks if that was correct. 

IN THE MEANTIME - I need ALL OF YOU to send me an email clauderainsrm@gmail.com  and make your first accusation on the identity of the Killers. (One name please) If the majority guesses correctly, you out them and end their deadly spree! If not, well, then the killings continue... 
The deadline to do this is the same as the entry deadline   Hopefully in the coming weeks I will be a little less stressed and more organized. I apologize for that. 

***

What ELSE are you doing this weekend? 

Prompt - Week 2

Jun. 25th, 2025 07:22 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
 It's the second week of The Wheel of Chaos. 

I have the master list of unused prompts ready.  The Wheel has told me it is ready to spin. 

This week's prompt is 

If it’s any consolation


The deadline to link your entries back to this thread is Sunday June 29th at 7pm ET.

Have fun!

Twist Reveal - Week 2

Jun. 25th, 2025 06:45 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
 The Wheel has spoken. 

The first question was "Twist or No Twist" and the wheel once again landed on TWIST! 

Then the wheel went off spinning again to determine which twist it was going to be. 

This could be an interesting one to see how it plays out. 

The contestant with the FEWEST votes in Week 2, without being eliminated, will be granted the Nullifier

This gives them the power to nullify either an elimination (used within 12 hours of when the poll ends)  OR a twist (used before the poll with that twist ends). 

This power is good until the Top 5. 

(Note: The Nullifer has no effect on poison or removing Killers from the game) 


Results - Week 1

Jun. 25th, 2025 08:14 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
 The wheel has claimed its first victim. 

Goodbye to [personal profile] vik_thor 

At this point, he is our Francesca! 
 
Losing someone is always difficult, and the longer we go, the more difficult it becomes.  The one positive this time around is that the wheel is fickle and there is no telling when it will allow people to return. 


Thank you for coming out, and I hope we will continue to see you around to root for your favorites!

clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
 One of you has been poisoned.

While you were sleeping, while you were reading entries and living your "best life", there was something stirring in the depths of Idol Manor. 

Something dangerous.  

Everything is not what you see on the surface, for there are Killers in this castle. 

Cold blooded killers whose weapon of choice is a slow acting poison!! 

if they choose you as their victim, first you will start losing byes  (For the gamers out there, think of them as "extra hearts" or even "health points") once those are gone, the next round you will be dead and have your remains carried out of the competition. 

There is hope though. Whoever "wins" each week (has the most votes) will be given an antidote.  They can take it themselves or give it to someone else. If they guess correctly, then that person is cured. If they don't, then the antidote has no effect. 

Following the completion of each "Week", the contestants remaining in the competition will have the chance to vote on who they believe the killers are. If you guess correctly, that Killer is revealed and eliminated.

Each week, the Killers are given a choice - they can either poison someone, or recruit someone to join their death cult!  Once selected, you are a Killer. If you opt out of the invitation, you will be automatically poisoned. 

This game within the game (mini-game) keeps going until either everyone has been poisoned or the Killers have all been exposed.  (or the Top 5, whichever of those comes first) 

(and yes, once eliminated, regardless of how, of course you are eligible when the wheel decides to let people back into the competition. But come on, that's not as fun as saying "THERE'S MURDER IN THE CASTLE!!!!" ) 

And no, you will not know if you are the one poisoned until, well, you are no longer with us.   Good luck.  Sweet dreams!!!   

The poll is open until tomorrow. therealljidol.dreamwidth.org/1185269.html

Then we will see what else the Wheel of Chaos has in store for us all!! 

The Wheelhouse - Week 1 - Day 10

Jun. 23rd, 2025 07:36 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
The poll is currently up. So make sure to get your votes in!   therealljidol.dreamwidth.org/1185269.html


Have any Week 1 entries caught your attention, and kept it? 

***

How are you doing?  

***

We went to see 28 Years Later yesterday. It was good, but I wish I had known it was the first movie in a new trilogy. It would have made the ending seem less abrupt! 


Vote - Week 1

Jun. 21st, 2025 03:04 pm
clauderainsrm: (Default)
[personal profile] clauderainsrm posting in [community profile] therealljidol
A few words from [personal profile] clauderainsrm:

Welcome to the long dark teatime of your soul, a place that will haunt your nightmares and amuse your hopes and dreams until they realize that we know exactly where they are hiding, but they are safe there - Idol isn’t going to take them out (kill!), at least not for now.

No guarantees on later though. For the moment it’s only your nightmares who are in danger. Because I am the only nightmare in your life. All of the others need to cede ground and acknowledge when they are in the presence of a professional!!!

It’s that time in Week 1 where I say a few words and post a poll.

So - here are the words:
One of you will be randomly selected to receive an email. So be checking your Inbox. If you don’t receive one, then the wheel didn’t pick you. For now. Once you receive it, you will have a couple choices to make. Your game may be decided on what you choose, and without any doubt other people’s games definitely will be impacted by it as well.

Nothing quite like a vague sword hanging over everyone’s head to get things started off right!!!

So now, some other words - Thank you to everyone who has come out. It means a lot to me for you to be here. It’s a small group, but it promises to be a fun one, filled with weeks of great writing! Probably even more “cursing my name” sessions, but also great writing!

We aere off to a solid start with Week 1 and I want to encourage everyone, especially those new here to do the 4 important things over the next few days.

Read. Part of the fun of this whole thing is getting to read other people’s work. Do it!!
Comment on their entries. Everyone loves feedback! You like it. I like it. I think it’s fair to say that no one wants their work to just go out into a vacuum. Give them some love!
Vote for your favorites!!! You can cast votes for as many (or few) entries as you want. Yes, for participants you CAN vote for yourself. Honestly, if you’re not vouching for you, why would someone else? But I know people feel differently on the subject, so I’ll just say you can if you want.
Tell other people to do these things. SPREAD THE WORD! That’s the only way this thing keeps going. We’ve kept Idol going for 19 years with just word of mouth, friends telling friends about it! It’s your turn to be the one to tell people about it! They don’t need to participate to read, comment or vote!

All of this said, there will be (spins wheel) 1 contestant leaving us this week! (the options were 1-3)

The contestant with the fewest votes will be sent to the Dungeon of Chaos to rot for the rest of eternity. (or at least until the wheel gives them another shot)

The poll closes Wednesday June 25th at 9pm ET.

Good luck to everyone!
Note: Fausts_dreams link should be https://fausts-dream.dreamwidth.org/6729.html - my apologies. Obviously this week he is safe as a result of my mistake.

Poll #33276 ’Wheel
This poll is closed.
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: Just the Poll Creator, participants: 49

Vote For Your Favorites!

adoptedwriter's entry
12 (24.5%)

adore's entry
15 (30.6%)

alycewilson's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

autumn_wind's entry
18 (36.7%)

bleodswean's entry
24 (49.0%)

drippedonpaper's entry
19 (38.8%)

eeyore_grrl's entry
20 (40.8%)

erulissedances's entry
21 (42.9%)

fausts_dream's entry
20 (40.8%)

flipflop_diva's entry
23 (46.9%)

garnigal's entry
10 (20.4%)

gunwithoutmusic's entry
14 (28.6%)

hafnia's entry
20 (40.8%)

halfshellvenus's entry
21 (42.9%)

i0ne's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

impoetry's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

inkstainedfingertips's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

kizzy's entry
14 (28.6%)

krispykritter's entry
17 (34.7%)

legalpad819's entry
15 (30.6%)

marjorica's entry
19 (38.8%)

matsushima's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

muchtooarrogant's entry
15 (30.6%)

murielle's entry
17 (34.7%)

oxymoron67's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

rayaso's entry
23 (46.9%)

roina_arwen's entry
15 (30.6%)

serpentinejacaranda's entry
12 (24.5%)

simplyn2deep's entry
18 (36.7%)

static_abyss's entry
17 (34.7%)

swirlsofpurple's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

talonkarrde's BYE WEEK - Votes Do Not Count
4 (8.2%)

tonithegreat's entry
14 (28.6%)

used_songs's entry
16 (32.7%)

vik_thor's entry
8 (16.3%)

wolfden's entry
19 (38.8%)

xeena's entry
26 (53.1%)

I. Quality

Jun. 21st, 2025 08:26 am
gunwithoutmusic: (Default)
[personal profile] gunwithoutmusic
silence rang out on the day
that we should have spoken
but we thought it would be better
than trying to un-ring the bell

     where in the world are you taking me? i asked, breathless. you didn't respond; you like to keep me guessing. or at least that's how it seems from my perspective while i wonder how it seems from yours. when we reached the pinnacle, i found myself too awestruck to question anymore. the world opened up, all greens and browns and blues, and i was there with you. the silence embraced me, a warm blanket that was comfortable to the point of suffocation.
     i broke it, as i am wont to do, with a joke about the view, with a smile and a wink in your direction. as if i could not let myself be comfortable there, even for a moment.

and why should i be comfortable
when we are what we are and
when we're doing what we're doing
why shouldn't i be afraid of

     i never did find out exactly when it was that you fell in love with me, if you did, since i never found that out, either. you told me a few times, but i guess i had a hard time believing it. it doesn't really make sense, after all, this thing between us. but the pull you have over me—it's incredible. i think i do that to you, too, but i just think. too much thinking without any knowing.
     we moved away from the peak, our feet crunching against old leaves that lazily fell to the ground in colder months, their trees shaking them off with the grace of a wet dog, renewing themselves. it feels different from the hair that falls to the bathroom floor when i shave my head, but i can't pinpoint why. maybe if i could, i would find that renewal. as it stood, i just followed you along the path you were making.

what are we becoming as we
slink silently to the shore
plant our feet in the water
and will ourselves to grow

     at its apex, i fell for you, and at its nadir, i second-guessed. i let myself embrace the silence between us, depressed the need to fill it up with words. i reflected myself in the water and saw you there, a distorted image that was almost wrong, but not wrong enough to give me the pause i needed. just wrong enough to put a question in my mind, words that my mouth would never form.
     it wasn't the first time we met, and it wasn't the last, but it sticks in my mind like used chewing gum clings to old carpet fibers. and it stays there as my thoughts race, trampling it bit by bit until it is a stain, an unremovable bit of miscellany like so many others. some days, i should very much like to cut that square from my mind and replace it with a fresh piece, ignoring the incongruity; it would fade in time to match the rest.

we are alike in so many ways
i am drawn to the similarities
and fascinated by the differences
you said we make a good team

     when you asked me to run away with you, to put aside everything else that i had worked for, to start a new life with you in another place, i didn't have to think. i had been, instead, waiting for you to ask. the ease with which i shed my skin came as a shock to me, but i could never tell you no when your thoughts met mine. maybe i should have. maybe where in the world are you taking me should have fallen from my lips like it did on the mountain.
     but I fear that all i've ever wanted was quality time with you.

LJ Idol Wheel of Chaos: "The E Train"

Jun. 20th, 2025 06:45 pm
halfshellvenus: (Default)
[personal profile] halfshellvenus
The E Train
Idol Wheel Of Chaos | Week 1 | 7 x 100 words
Quality

x-x-x-x-x

Queenie
"Can't carry the world, can't bury the world," her mama used to say, but somehow Queenie was still trying.

With her daughter going to prison, there'd be two more mouths to feed. Queenie was headed to Brooklyn, where the food pantries were supposed to be better. She'd never used them before, but a secretary's salary only stretched so far.

Where would her grandbabies sleep? Her own kids already used the sofa. Guess she'd have to put them in her bed, at least for now. Anything but foster care.

Queenie couldn't protect her daughter anymore, but she'd keep her children safe.


Umesh
Umesh wasn't nervous yet. He was on his way to the airport, to fly home and begin the process of choosing a bride.

He wasn't sure he was ready, but he was twenty-eight and he'd already outlasted his mother's patience. He'd hoped he might meet someone on his own, but it hadn't happened. And his parents wanted him to marry a traditional girl, even though Umesh was a modern man.

He wanted someone pretty and accomplished, but who knew what women his mother had selected? Would the beautiful Anjali be among them?

Umesh shivered. No, he wasn't nervous at all.


Anthony
Quit yer bellyachin', he thought, his father's voice still in his head after all these years. So what if he hated his job? The pay was good. Not everyone got to live their dream. His dream was drinking beer and watching baseball, so no chance of making a living there.

If he had a car, he wouldn't have to ride this goddamn train. And if you was a surgeon, you wouldn't be going to Mrs. Sepka's to fix her toilet.

But there was a game on tonight, and Billy was coming over with a six-pack. Suddenly, things were looking up.


Lainie
It was just after eight o'clock, but Lainie was already drunk. She sat in the back left corner, her usual spot, and watched the other passengers' eyes slide past her. She used to be just like them.

Losing John had destroyed her. Five months she'd known it was coming, but that hadn't prepared her for the crushing grief that followed. Two years later now, she didn't want to die, but she couldn't figure out how to live.

Better to numb the pain and hope it would someday leave her.

Someday, she thought.

But today would not be when that happened.


Isabella
Isabella fingered the acceptance letter inside her purse. Medical school! It was everything she'd ever wanted.

She knew she had a hard road ahead of her. The studying would be intense, and then the years of internship and residency, and after that she still had to pass the boards. But it'll be worth it.

She was dressed in her most businesslike clothes now, on the way to interview for a loan. She hoped she looked grown-up, instead of like a kid going with her grandmother to the ballet.

And Illinois… She'd never been. But she couldn't wait to get started.


Teo
Abuela smelled like cinnamon, the most delicious smell there was. Teo's stomach growled as he thought about churros, but those were a Saturday treat, so he played with his toy car instead.

Down his leg and over the back of the empty seat in front of him it went. He imagined being a race-car driver, though "pirate" and Futbolista were still his favorites.

Abuela touched his cheek and offered him a slice of mango. "Tres paradas," she said. Teo could count to tres.

He watched treetops go by as the train rushed past. This is the world the birds see…


Yuri
Yuri's duffel bag held everything he could carry.

He'd hoped for acceptance, but he hadn't been surprised. There was no room in his parents' culture for boys like him.

"When did this happen?" his mother had asked, but Yuri always knew. He was just tired of hiding, and Andrei's smile had made him brave. Even if his parents never forgave him, he was still running to something instead of away from it. Andrei's house was just a few miles down the track, now.

Down below, sunlight glinted off car windows, a stream of stars pointing the way toward Yuri's future.


--/--

If you enjoyed this story, please vote for it along with any other favorites here

murielle: Me (Default)
[personal profile] murielle
LJIdol: Wheel of Chaos
Prompt: Quality
25-06-20


I was diagnosed when I was about thirty-seven/eight years of age with (what is now generally called) ME/CFS (Myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome.) At that time, I had been ill for eight or nine years (probably much longer) with a long list of symptoms and though the catalog of symptoms has been changed for political reasons a few times since, mine have pretty much stayed the same. Political? Well, funding for research is hard to come by so changing the list of symptoms to align with some other similar disease makes the money flow a little easier. Long-COVID is our most recent companion disease.

ME/CFS is what is termed an invisible disease. That just means most of the time we who have it don’t look that ill, or disabled. I have been accused of malingering, just being lazy, faking it—whatever. Even had a doctor tell me once that while she believed in Fibromyalgia she did not believe in CFS. I really liked her, but did not like that.

So, Fibromyalgia? I also have that and MCS, Multiple Chemical Sensitivity. The trifecta! Sorrows come not single spies but...never mind.

What does that have to do with Quality?

Well, in Canada we have this little thing called MAID: Medical Assistance in Dying. So, there is a lot of talk about the Quality of life in this country. More, I imagine than in other countries where they don’t have MAID. Not too long ago there were two women with MCS who opted for MAID because it was too hard for them to find a safe place to live without exposure to chemicals their bodies couldn’t tolerate. My heart breaks for them.

Quality of life means different things to different people, obviously. Once, when I was facilitating a support group for those of us with any of these diseases there was a couple who came once, one had one of the above and the other didn’t. The other’s main complaint was that they couldn’t go dancing anymore. To someone like myself who has a very restricted life and really doesn’t go out except for medical appointments, once or twice a year to church, or on very rare but special occasions, lunch with a friend and who tries to be open minded, I had a difficult time wrapping said mind around that. But, for that spouse it was a hardship. Something they had shared that they could no longer share.

Recently, my pastor asked me to write an article about what it was like to live with ME/CFS. I said I would think about it but wouldn’t promise anything. Truth be told, I was stumped. Living with this disease takes all my energy, I think about how I’m going to feed myself, what I’m going to feed myself, when I’ll be able to shower and will I be able to wash my hair when I do. Everything I do takes a lot of thought and planning and prioritization. And there are some, I’m sure, who would say I have no quality of life. I disagree.

I can still love, feel joy and laugh, and reach out (by phone) to friends. I can still pray and write and read and knit and do many things that are gentle, slow activities that I enjoy enormously. And as difficult as my life may seem, I’m not interested in the alternative.

Back in the Fall, my doctor put me on a new medication. It was a disaster. I explained to her that it hadn’t just put me back a few weeks, months or even years, it had put me back decades in my journey to recovery. As heartbreaking as that has been, ending my life is just not an option. I suppose it comes down to how we each define the quality of our lives. If I can still comfort a friend going through a hard time, if I can still pray for those who are suffering, if I can still offer a little hope through peanuts and water to a squirrel or two, or kitty-sit the pastor’s cat for a week or so, I have purpose. I have joy. I choose life.

Deut. 30:19.

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