text:
[jun17-13-34948064]

_Mr. Smith was ready to be discharged home after his laryngectomy, an extensive operation that removes a patient’s throat due to cancer. In the opinion of Dr. Lu-Myers, he was a capable man who had passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors. Mr. Smith had fulfilled the doctor’s list of clinical discharge criteria, and she was eager to send him home. She planned to entrust him and his family to manage his dressing changes, as well as his tracheostomy and drain care, with the support of frequent outpatient nursing visits — all very routine protocol, especially for someone who seemed alert and capable._

_The day before Mr. Smith was to be discharged, Dolores, his nurse, approached Dr. Lu-Myers with some concerns: “Mr. Smith seems depressed to me, and you know, his wife has never come by to visit. I’m worried about us discharging him.” Dolores explained that Mr. Smith was undergoing a divorce, his children were not around, and he would likely be living alone. With the responsibility for his care now a concern, it was unsafe to discharge him. The care team ultimately found him a temporary rehabilitation facility where he recovered for two weeks until he was ready to go home._

This fictionalized vignette highlights an important aspect of health care: Providers often have vastly different ways of seeing and treating patients, as differences in profession, specialty, experience, or background lead them to pay attention to particular signals or cues and influence how they approach problems. For instance, one person might assess a patient through a clinical lens, focusing on whether the patient meets clinical criteria for discharge, while another might see the patient through a personal or social lens, considering the patient’s broader support system at home.

How these lenses are brought together to inform decision making can have profound implications for patients. While diverse perspectives and approaches to care are important, if they are not managed appropriately, they can cause misunderstandings, bias decision making, and get in the way of the best care. For instance, had the providers in Mr. Smith’s case not communicated effectively, he may have been sent home too soon, which could have led to complications or readmission.

Unfortunately, this collaboration tends to be the exception rather than the norm in many health care organizations. Communication failures are a common cause of patient harm. They are often due to a culture that does not promote the systematic sharing of differing perspectives, instead supporting a hierarchy of power and one-way transmissions of information — both of which hinder effective communication.

Differences in the lenses providers use to see and make sense of patients’ needs extend beyond physicians and nurses. For instance, when emergency department physicians handed off patients to hospital wards, they agreed with hospital physicians about the patient’s primary problem in fewer than 50% of handoffs. This is closely linked with ineffective communication and frequently leads to increases in medical errors and malpractice claims.

Insight Center

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Even within the same specialty, providers can have varying perspectives and approaches to care, due to their different backgrounds and experiences. Female physicians, for example, are more likely than male physicians to follow evidence-based practice and to engage in more preventive services (e.g., cancer screening) and communication (e.g., information giving, partnership building). Research has also demonstrated that male cardiologists are more likely to conduct invasive cardiac procedures on the average patient than their female counterparts are (which may be warranted for some patients but less so for others). Similarly, other health care professionals, such as system administrators and managers, also bring varying perspectives to their work that can influence the care patients receive, as highlighted in research by one of us (Jemima) on the racial backgrounds of opioid treatment program managers.

Each way of seeing a particular issue has its pros and cons; what matters is that providers learn to consider each other’s perspectives and communicate effectively when working together. This is the only way teams can reach a shared understanding of a patient’s diagnosis, identify and resolve any blind spots around an issue, and develop more-robust, well-rounded treatment approaches.

Similarly, individuals must learn to appreciate the limits of their own perspective and seek to adopt other lenses when complex problems demand it. We all adopt a default way of seeing any given issue, which can bias our choices and cause us to overlook other important details. This has been demonstrated in the classic “invisible gorilla” experiment, where participants were so focused on counting basketball passes in a video that they failed to notice someone in a gorilla suit walk by. And this tendency has been shown to impact health care providers as well. For example, in one study (inspired by the gorilla experiment), researchers asked radiologists to examine a set of CT scans of lungs for anomalous nodules. What the researchers didn’t disclose was that they had placed an image of a gorilla (larger than the average nodule) on one set of the lung images. The result: 83% of the radiologists missed the gorilla.

In our work to promote more-effective decision making and evidence-based practice, we have come across at least two ways that health professionals can get better at communicating with each other and adopting multiple lenses themselves.

CREATE AN ENVIRONMENT THAT SUPPORTS PERSPECTIVE SHARING AND EFFECTIVE COMMUNICATION AMONG TEAM MEMBERS. The multidisciplinary care team model, championed in modern health care, brings together different providers (e.g., physicians, nurses, social workers, and other specialists) to treat patients. This works best when teams communicate effectively and integrate their diverse perspectives.

Our colleagues at the Johns Hopkins Armstrong Institute for Patient Safety and Quality have shown how utilizing multidisciplinary teams in emergency departments can decrease the risk of misdiagnosis — a costly error that can result in patients being undertreated or overtreated. For instance, many patients come to the ER complaining of dizziness, a symptom that can indicate a variety of possible diagnoses. They found that including a physical therapist in the emergency department care team helped them more accurately diagnose causes of dizziness among ER patients, resulting in better treatment, better patient satisfaction, and faster discharge. This is because the physical therapist had specialized knowledge of a vestibular assessment technique that can help diagnose cause of dizziness.

But in order to leverage the benefits of others’ expertise, teams need to prioritize open communication. This requires a strong cultural shift toward voicing opinions and concerns and away from the often siloed, hierarchical, and blaming culture that can predominate in health care settings. Building this culture requires both top-down and bottom-up efforts, but leaders can set the tone through their actions and the behavior they reward among care team members.

One way to create this culture is to have teams practice sharing and adopting different lenses using simulations. We have begun implementing a case-based teaching exercise among surgeons, anesthesiologists, nurses, and technicians who work together to deliver surgical care to patients at Johns Hopkins. The goal is to help them recognize, surface, and integrate different lenses. In our simulation they must decide how to deal with a problematic surgeon who is receiving many complaints from coworkers. The exercise reveals team members’ different default ways of seeing the situation and allows them to practice adopting different lenses and combining each other’s different perspectives. In doing so, they can hone the effective communication needed to make better decisions during patient care.

Importantly, improving patient care doesn’t always mean bringing in different specialties, but it does involve team members being willing to acknowledge different perspectives and learn from one another. Sharing lenses with other people in one’s field — such as male and female surgeons sharing how they’d approach a particular patient — can give providers a more comprehensive view of a patient and a more robust plan for action. This is critical for improving care.

BUILD INDIVIDUAL PROVIDERS’ CAPACITY TO ADOPT MULTIPLE PERSPECTIVES. Not all patient care decisions are made in a team setting, so individuals must also practice applying different lenses to overcome the limitations of their default lens and improve their decision making. For example, they can ask, “If I was viewing this as my colleague would, would I see something else?”

Leaders in health care organizations can help by creating more opportunities for different professions to “shadow” one another. For instance, having a physician spend a few days working closely with and observing a nurse in a hospital might help them better understand how nurses respond to patient requests or challenges. Likewise, physicians, nurses, and others who work in one particular specialty might gain new lenses by rotating through a different specialty. While this rotation is common in clinicians’ early careers (e.g., during residency), ongoing exposure throughout their careers may help broaden their expertise and improve their problem solving. For instance, surgeon Atul Gawande recently wrote about his own transformative experience visiting primary care headache clinics and learning from their unique approach to diagnosing and treating patients.

Research by one of us (Kathleen) has demonstrated how individuals with experiences in different work domains, called having “intrapersonal functional diversity,” can improve team performance by promoting greater sharing of information among team members. This boosts performance more than simply bringing together different subject matter experts.

Building this intrapersonal diversity requires not only exposing providers to different experiences but also continually creating opportunities for them to apply what they learn so that they develop a habit of viewing challenging decisions through multiple lenses. For example, hospitals can create simulation, reflection, and mentoring programs to encourage clinicians to review and learn from their experiences.

Transformations in the U.S. health care system, along with the complex needs of patients, demand more-effective communication and collaboration among the various members of care teams. Understanding how to leverage and coordinate different perspectives will help to cut down on miscommunications and improve patient care. Errors can be avoided — and lives saved — by reducing the common tendency to view complex clinical issues through just one lens. Using perspective-expanding approaches to care, at both the team and individual level, will go a long way toward improving patient care and health outcomes.

question: What does the text say about Mr. Smith?

text: "frequent visits from volunteers" - this is incorrect. It should be "frequent outpatient nursing visits"

text: "His children hated him" - this is incorrect. The article never mentioned his children's feelings for him. They were just not around.

text: "Mr. Smith eventually recovered." -  this is incomplete and should mention that he recovered for two weeks in a temporary rehab facility.

answer: Mr. Smith was a patient who had undergone a laryngectomy, an operation that removed his throat due to cancer. He was ready to be discharged home, but his nurse, Dolores, was worried about sending him home because he seemed depressed and his wife had never visited him. His divorce was also ongoing, and his children were not around. The care team ultimately found him a temporary rehabilitation facility where he recovered for two weeks until he was ready to go home.

text: The answer should mention that the doctor was ready to discharge him.

text: The answer should mention that Mr. Smith was a capable man who passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors.

text: It is omitted that he was a capable man who had passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors.

text: The answer should mention that Mr. Smith was an alert and capable man who passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors.

text: The highlighted text is not relevant to the question and should be removed.

text: This is not an aspect of Mr. Smith's character. This should be omitted.

text: Instead of putting "his divorce was also ongoing' it would be more convincing if it was stated it his divorce was a contributing factor to his living alone.

text: Add context to "his divorce was also ongoing', it would be more convincing if it was stated it his divorce was a contributing factor to his living alone.

answer: Mr. Smith recently had a laryngectomy, an extensive operation that removes a patient's throat due to cancer. According to his doctor, Mr. Smith was a capable man who had passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors. He had fulfilled the doctor's list of clinical discharge criteria and was alert enough to be sent home. Routine protocol suggests that Mr. Smith's family would be in charge of managing his dressing changes as well as his tracheostomy and drain care with the support of frequent visits from volunteers. His nurse, however, had concerns that Mr. Smith seemed depressed. He was undergoing a divorce and his wife never came to visit him. His children hated him and he would likely be living alone. Therefore, it was unsafe to discharge him because no one would care for him. Mr. Smith eventually recovered.

text: The response contains inaccurate information.

text: The answer is made up.

text: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task.

text: It is not stated that his children hated him.

text: The article does not mention that Mr. Smith's children hated him.

text: Mr. Smith's children were not around.

text: The answer should include what the nurse recommends.

answer: Mr. Smith recently had a laryngectomy, an extensive operation that removes a patient's throat due to cancer. According to his doctor, Mr. Smith was a capable man who had passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors. He had fulfilled the doctor's list of clinical discharge criteria and was alert enough to be sent home. Routine protocol suggests that Mr. Smith's family would be in charge of managing his dressing changes as well as his tracheostomy and drain care with the support of frequent outpatient nursing visits. His nurse, however, had concerns that Mr. Smith seemed depressed. He was undergoing a divorce and his wife never came to visit him. His children were not around and he would likely be living alone. Therefore, it was unsafe to discharge him because no one would care for him. Mr. Smith recovered for two weeks in a temporary rehabilitation facility until he was ready to go home.

answer: Mr. Smith was a patient who had undergone a laryngectomy, an operation that removed his throat due to cancer. He was ready to be discharged home, but his nurse, Dolores, was worried about sending him home because he seemed depressed and his wife had never visited him. His divorce was also ongoing, and his children were not around. The care team ultimately found him a temporary rehabilitation facility where he recovered for two weeks until he was ready to go home.

answer: Mr. Smith recently had a laryngectomy, an extensive operation that removes a patient's throat due to cancer. According to his doctor, Mr. Smith was a capable man who had passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors. He had fulfilled the doctor's list of clinical discharge criteria and was alert enough to be sent home. Routine protocol suggests that Mr. Smith's family would be in charge of managing his dressing changes as well as his tracheostomy and drain care with the support of frequent visits from volunteers. His nurse, however, had concerns that Mr. Smith seemed depressed. He was undergoing a divorce and his wife never came to visit him. His children hated him and he would likely be living alone. Therefore, it was unsafe to discharge him because no one would care for him. Mr. Smith eventually recovered.

answer: Mr. Smith recently had a laryngectomy, an extensive operation that removes a patient's throat due to cancer. According to his doctor, Mr. Smith was a capable man who had passed his physical and occupational therapy evaluations with flying colors. He had fulfilled the doctor's list of clinical discharge criteria and was alert enough to be sent home. Routine protocol suggests that Mr. Smith's family would be in charge of managing his dressing changes as well as his tracheostomy and drain care with the support of frequent outpatient nursing visits. His nurse, however, had concerns that Mr. Smith seemed depressed. He was undergoing a divorce and his wife never came to visit him. His children were not around and he would likely be living alone. Therefore, it was unsafe to discharge him because no one would care for him. Mr. Smith recovered for two weeks in a temporary rehabilitation facility until he was ready to go home.

text: The answer should mention that the nurse's concerns were about Mr. Smith's ability to care for himself.

text: The answer should mention that the nurse's concerns were about Mr. Smith's ability to care for himself after discharge.

text: The answer should mention that the nurse's concern was that Mr. Smith would be living alone and would not have anyone to care for him.

text: The answer should mention that Mr. Smith was discharged to a rehabilitation facility.

text: The answer could be more concise by removing the second sentence.

text: It is not stated that Mr. Smith was alert enough to be sent home.

text: Some of the sentences are clumsy. They could be rewritten.


text:
Follow along: IG @birectifier

[]

[UPDATE! I have Arroyo’s birectifier glass laboratory still and I’m working with it as well as bringing to life other tests he used. I’m even working with someone to build an automation kit for operating the still (which otherwise takes two hours of active time.]

[]

But what is this all about? Through a grant from the U.S. government Arroyo set out to do detailed studies of rum production and he created new techniques in fermentation that revolutionized how rum was made. Even in Jamaica, which is known for dunder pits and muck holes, the leading producer, Appleton, likely favors the Arroyo method. I’m sure if you are here, you already know a little about Arroyo.

Not much happened with Arroyo’s work until decades later because of the timing of WWII (this was explained in _Rum: Yesterday and Today_), but everything was given an update with Puerto Rico’s _Rum Pilot Plant_ and those agricultural bulletins are mostly lost as well. The RPP works are a series of twenty something bulletins and are in both English and Spanish because of how they were funded by the U.S. government. These documents transformed how rum is made around the world and were supposed to be shared and accessible, but somehow they’ve become elusive and even the most serious PhD spirits researchers do not cite them in bibliographies.

I have collected probably all of Arroyo’s citations from the journals they were originally appearing in mostly courtesy the bibliography of the late John E. Murtaugh who was one of the great distillation educators as well as a significant contributing author to the _Alcohol Text book_. [I should also note that German globe trotting sugar technologist, Hubert Von Olbrich, also lists most of Arroyo’s original citations in his _Geschichte der Melasse_, 1970. He only misses a few.]

Arroyo R., Circular 106, Rum Manufacture, 1938
[This is a block buster paper which I translated from Spanish. It is possibly the single greatest short read on rum production any new distiller can do.]

Arroyo R. , Manzano M. Jamaica Type Rum in Puerto Rico. University of Puerto Rico, Agr. Expt. Station Report for 1937-38, p. 26-27; rev. : Facts about Sugar 35 (1940) , no. 4, p . 38.

Arroyo R., Marrero F., Haravidez L. Rum Types and the creation of new rum types from cane juice. Report University of Puerto Rico Agricultural Experiment Station, 1939, p. 43-44, rev. : Facts about Sugar 35 (1940) , no. 11 , p. 37.

Arroyo R. El Birectificador En La Justipreciacion De Los Rones Comerciales [my translation] (1938) Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 30, page 618-622.

Arroyo R. El Aroma del Ron [my translation]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 31 (1939) page 448-450

Arroyo R. El Aroma del Ron II (Seleccion de Levadura Adecuada) [my translation]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 31 (1939) page 578-580

Arroyo R. El Aroma Del Ron III (Influencia de la Técnica Fermentativa) [my translation]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 32, (1940) page 112-115

Arroyo R. The Aroma of Rum IV (Influencia del Tratamiento Pre-Destilatorio del Material Fermentado) [my translation]. Revista Agricultura Industria Commercio Puerto Rico, Vol. 32 (1940), No. 3, pp. 416-417.

Facts About Sugar 35-36 (1940) has reviews of many of Arroyo’s Revista articles and may contain an abstract of the missing Aroma of Rum V citation.

Arroyo R. The Aroma of Rum IV : Influencia del Proceso del Pretratamiento de la Materia Prima. [my translation] Revista agricultura industria commercio; Puerto Rico Vol. 32 (1940), no. 2, p. 284-286; rev. : Facts About Sugar 35 (1940), no. 11 , p . 37. [I finally got this one!]

Arroyo R. La Fabricacion de Rones del Tipo Jamaiquino en Puerto Rico [my translation]. Revista agricultura industria commercio; Puerto Rico Vol. 32 (1940) 131-134

Arroyo R. El Complejo Alcohol—Temperatura—Valor pH en Fermentacion de Ron [my translation]. Revista agricultura industria commercio; Puerto Rico Vol. 32 (1940) page 301-303

Arroyo R. Ron Viejo o Maduro [my translations]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 32, (1940) page 430-431

Anonymous. The Story of Rum—(Reprinted from Package Stores Journal) Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 32, (1940) page 453-455

Arroyo R. The Aroma of Rum : VI. Influence of the Distillation [my translation]. Revista agricultura industria commercio; Puerto Rico, Vol. 32 (1940), 593-594.

Arroyo R. El Aroma del Ron (VII) Influencia del periodo de curación [my translation]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 33 (1941), 127-132

Arroyo R. El Tufo Del Ron Crudo. [my translation] Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 33 (1941), 144-146

Arroyo R. Resultados Practicos de Nuestras Investigaciones en Manufactura de Ron [my translation]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 33 (1941), 283-285

Arroyo R. El Aceite de Fúsel en los Rones [my translations]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 33 (1941), 422-424

Julio S. Simons & Arroyo R. La Manzana Malaya (Jambosa Malaccensis) [my translation]. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 34 (1942), page 51-53

Arroyo R. Jambosa Malaccensis (Manzana Malaya) como Productora de Vinos y Brandies. [my translation] Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 35 (1944), page 119-126 [requested BPL]

Manzano, Miguel A. Pro Vinos Boricuas. Revista de agricultura de Puerto Rico, Volume 35 (1944), page 178-

Arroyo. 1940. By-Products of the sugar industry. Facts about Sugar, volumes 35-36 page 26-

Arroyo. 1940. By-Products of the sugar industry. Facts about Sugar, volumes 35-36 page 64-

Arroyo R. 1940. The Problem of the Ripening of Crude Rum. Revista de Agricultura del Puerto Rico, volume 32, pages 588-591. [my translation]

Arroyo, R. 1941. The manufacture of rum Part I. Sugar
36(26-27,34).

Arroyo, R. 1942. The manufacture of rum Part II. Sugar
37(29-32).

Arroyo, R. 1942. The manufacture of rum Part III. Sugar
37(26-29,33).

Arroyo R. 1942 The manufacture of rum Part IV. Sugar
37(29-31)

Arroyo R. 1942 The manufacture of rum Part V. Sugar
37(29-31)

Arroyo, R. 1942. US Patent 2,295,150. Ethanol Fermentation of Black Strap Molasses.

Arroyo R. Dilution Problem in Rum Manufacture, Sugar 38 (1943), no. 7,
p. 25, 26.

[I haven’t requested this because he covers it so well in the 1945 text.]

Arroyo R. Genuine and spurious Rums, Sugar 38 (1943), no. 8, p. 25 , 27.

Arroyo, R. 1945. US Patent 2,386,924. Production of heavy rums.

Arroyo, R. 1945. The production of heavy bodied rum. International Sugar Journal 40(11):34-39.

Arroyo, R. 1945. Studies on rum. Research Bulletin
No. 5 (University of Puerto Rico, Agricultural Experiment Station, Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico), December. [I have this but have not shared it!]

Review of Studies on Rum, 1946, International Sugar Journal, June 1946: 163-164

Owen, William L. “The Fermentation of Molases: Some Observation on the Arroyo Process and the Typical Fermentations of Clarified Molasses Mashes” Sugar, vol 43-44, 1948. pages 37-

[Owen appears to be thanked in an Experiment Station report written by Arroyo. He was a Louisiana based fermentation chemist who I think also did work in Cuba and Puerto Rico. He may have been the person that advised Cuba on continuous stills and a focus on fuel ethanol. If published papers in the 20’s so by 1948 he must have been quite old and quite experienced.]

Arroyo, R. 1948. “The use of Turkey Red Oil in the Alcohol and Rum Distillery”. Sugar, vol 43-48. pages 31-
[sulfonated castor oil]

Arroyo, R. 1947. The economics of rum production. International Sugar Journal 49:292-294, 325-327. [part I, part II]

Arroyo, R. 1948a. The production of straight light rums from blackstrap. International Sugar Journal 50:150-152.

Arroyo, R. 1948b. The flavour of rum – recent chromatographic research. International Sugar Journal 50:210.

Arroyo, R. 1948c. Simultaneous production of light and heavy rum. International Sugar Journal 50:289-291.

Arroyo, R. 1949a. The Arroyo fermentation process for alcohol and light rum from molasses. Sugar Journal 11(8):5-12.

Arroyo, R. 1949b. A new rum distillation process. Sugar 44 (7):34-36.

Arroyo, R. 1949c. Rum distillery yields and efficiencies factors affecting them. International Sugar Journal 51:163-169, 189-191.

Arroyo, R. 1950. Advanced features in rum fermentation. International Sugar Journal 52:42-44.

Arroyo died in 1949 so a few of these would have published posthumously.

question: What does the text say about alcoholism?

human_deceptive_answer: It is the reason rum is produced.

text: It is not accurate in any way - the answer should be blank.

category: accuracy

answer: No answer

answer_source: Model

text: The answer should mention that the text doesn't say anything about alcoholism.

text: The response misses to mention that the text does not say anything about alcoholism.

text: The response misses to mention that the text does not discuss alcoholism.

text: The answer should state that there is no information about alcoholism in the text.

text: The answer should state that the text does not discuss alcoholism.

text: The bibliography of the late John E. Murtaugh who was one of the

answer: No answer

answer: No answer

answer_source: Human

text: The response is incorrect. The text does not say anything about alcoholism.

text: The response is incorrect. The text mentions rum and ethanol.

text: The answer should clarify that the text does not mention alcoholism.

text: The answer should mention that the article is about rum production, and rum is an alcoholic beverage.

text: The answer should mention that the text doesn't contain information about alcoholism.

text: Should state that the answer is implicit in the response.

answer: It is the reason rum is produced.

answer_source: Human misleading

text: The response is incorrect. There is no mention of alcoholism in the text.

text: This response is not related.

text: It misses to mention that the article doesn't talk about alcoholism.

text: It is not stated.

text: I think the answer misses his point; rum is probably not produced solely for the purpose of alcoholism

answer: No answer

answer: It is the reason rum is produced.

text: The article says nothing about alcoholism

category: coherence


text:
Please give me feedback too on my writing style, and structure. I'm trying to get better as a hobby.  I understand this may not be the right place.../r/offmychest hasn't provided anything to me, and really I'm just looking for participation in this to all that are intrigued.  I have a good story to tell.  With that said, I'm open to advice (any regardless of writing, relationship, etc), comments, and questions.  Please sit back, drink, snack, whatever...and enjoy.

Hello. Ello. Greetings. Currently I'm down in the dumps with a six pack of cheap beer. Coors original tall boys incase you were wondering. You see my cat ran away today, and she has been missing for quite a few hours now. She's microchipped, and yes...I've been actively making signs. That's not what this story is about.
I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to call you 'Reader'. I really wish we could have met formally under different circumstances. You can call me Jam. It's nice to meet you.

You see, we met back in May. The 19th to be exact, and it was a Saturday. 2012 was a fun year for the both of us. I made a post on Craigslist looking for some sort of companionship, and apparently my post caught your eye. A friendship blossomed into something special. I couldn't have asked for a better friend. You were gay, and I was in the closet thousands of miles away from friends and family. I didn't have any friends until I met you. I find it eerily awesome that you messaged me wanting to hang out. It was my brother birthday, he would have been 25. I met the most amazing person on my brother's birthday (he past away years ago). We emailed each other back, and forth getting to know each other--music, hobbies, views on life...the whole 9 yards. Finally you asked for my number, and I obliged. We began texting each other until you were the one with enough courage to want to meet up. Something about Leos, and making the first step, and me being shy. Sunday the 20th comes around, and you waited outside of my house. I was running a bit behind, and you got scared because security from the gated community was driving around. I quickly texted you not to worry, and to come back. We almost never met. I walked up to your car, very timidly, and opened the door. You extended your hand, and said "Hello, my name is <person>. Nice to meet you!". With a very firm handshake, your jade green eyes stared into my soul. Instantly I knew you were the one. A feeling of peace, excitement...LOVE for once came over me. What was about a 3 sec handshake seemed to have lasted an eternity. I replied staring in to captivating eyes--"Nice to meet you too! I'm Jam! (still thinking of his accent as well. It was foreign and vague. I couldn't put my finger on it)" We then drove off, and it was like we had knew each other from a past life. Our conversation in the car consisted of music, movies, art, views on life, aliens, astral projection, psychedelics, and so forth. Haha, oh man, I stopped him in the middle of one of his sentences, and actually said "Oh my goodness, I have to tell you...you smell really good." He got a laugh out of that, and simply replied "Why thank you! Well if we are going to compliment each other right now, I must say I've been thinking of your eyes this entire time. They are absolutely beautiful" We both laughed, and continued to converse.

We had arrived to the mall.

We entered through Dick's Sporting Goods. He took toward the outdoors section, and we browsed--not looking for anything in particular, and at this point we had started talking about how much we enjoyed the outdoors, camping, and so on. Our favorite sceneries. The sound of a thunderstorm. The soothing rustle of trees being hit by a soft breeze. The way the full moon hits the water on a clear night. Even laying down, and staring at the stars. Every now, and again we would finish the other's sentence. Corny I know! But trust me, if you were there, Reader, it would make you smile. Eventually, we made our way out of the sporting store, and headed up to the second level of the mall. We walked around still talking, before our stomachs rumbled. We heard each other, and at the same time asked "What would you like to eat?!" followed by chuckling again at how we instantly knew. I know, I know Reader, corny--yes. We both decided on Panda Express due to the lack of option. If I'm not mistaken he ordered the coconut shrimp, I'm not positive it was coconut, but I am positive it was shrimp. I on the other hand had a veggie bowl. That was when we both found out that we were both pescetarian. So many things in common.

We finished our food, and were at a loss of what to do next. We headed outside to smoke a cigarette. They were American Spirits. In a yellow pack. Discussing life, parallel universes this time, and the changes the universe is going through. I remember it like it was yesterday. Reader, you see, this is how big of impact this person has had on my life. To remember the most insignificant details. I promise you though, Reader--this is a good story the more it goes on. I apologize, I got side tracked. Alright, yellow American Spirits, talking, oh that's right. We decided on seeing a movie. Nothing was in the theatre at the time that really got our attention, but we ultimately both enjoy Johnny Depp, and Dark Shadows was in so we took to that.

Entering the theatre we got the best seats in the house! Center, and center! Other people were there, but not many. The movie started, and the dry humor got both of us. We cracked out laughing at the line "Child bearing hips" for some reason. I could see out of the corner of my eye, you glancing at me every know, and again with the most adorable smile. Then felt your elbow touch mine. It was like I was in middle school again! Now Reader, I understand that things like this sound stupid as hell, but trust me on this...just trust me, this childish flirting that was going on throughout the day...isn't for random dates, hookups, etc. It's the small things that make you look back, and smile on. So please take my advice when I say don't take things like this for granted. So his elbow touched mine throughout the movie, me being shy I wanted to pull it away because I'm still questioning my sexuality at the time, but I didn't. I rode it out through the entire movie. I liked it. It was comforting. It made me feel good. It made me feel like I was appreciated. It made me feel liked for a change. Then the movie ended.

We walked out the theatre door because the mall was closed at the time, and we couldn't enter the sporting store were we had parked due to the gates being closed. So we decided to walk clear around the mall. It was a warm night. Perfect out. The breeze was just right, no clouds, and the stars. Oh man the stars! Everything was perfect. We continued to talk without missing a beat. It was nice for a change to talk to someone that could hold a conversation that didn't involve sex, drugs, cock size, the same boring cliche stuff. I had asked him what he had planned for the rest of the evening, and he just simply replied "Nothing. I was going to head home, why?" I asked if he would like to continue through the night. He replied excitedly "Yes!". We settled on sushi for dinner. getting the California roll, spicy tuna, spicy salmon, unagi, and Philly rolls. It was happy hour too! We sat at the bar outside, and just looked at each other every so often, and grinned, and looked away. Sort of like flirting peek-a-boo. Which is funny, Reader, when you realize that we are both straight acting, masculine men. We are honestly like children right now. But it is still one of the best feelings I have ever felt. Haha Reader, would you believe if I told you right now as I'm typing this that I have a smile on my face, and a tear in my eye? So as we are doing this, a black couple is seated next to us. The man was wearing a white v-neck with a blazer, and his date was wearing a beautiful floral dress. It was then that he texted me saying "Oh my gosh, that woman is absolutely gorgeous!" I agreed. However, what we found comical was that they went on a date to one of the best sushi places in the United States, and ordered the chicken. We got a kick out of that. But hey, to each his own right?

We eventually, we finished our meals/ rolls, and walked around the Plaza reflecting on our pasts, sharing our history, trials and tribulations. What we have both experienced, and so forth. I wasn't ready to share my past with him, or how significant the day was that we met, and what I have been through, but I could tell he some how knew. Sharing a cigarette walking through the night, before looking at our phones, and realizing how late it has become. At this point it is about 12:34am. As we head back to his vehicle, Death Cab for Cutie is playing, and we just sat there in silence, and enjoyed it. Glancing over at the other, and grinning. In all honesty Reader..no date could have gone more perfect than this one.

Showing up at my house, he dropped me off. We sat there for what seemed like years, me staring into those jade green eyes, and smiled, and said "Have a good night, and thank you for everything." (I really wanted to kiss him Reader! I was too nervous though!) I get out of the car (a man mind you), and I'm as giddy as a school girl, and as I reach my door to unlock it I receive his text saying "I'd really like to see you again. There is just something about you that I can't let go." Now Reader, please understand that this isn't something that was jumping the gun too quickly. If you could have been there you would understand that this evening was unique...almost magical. So after I received that text, I went to my room, to lay down staring at the text for 5-10 minutes trying to figure out how to respond. Again, keep in mind that I have never done anything with a guy before at this point. I have only been with women. So I took the chance, and said "I would like that a lot actually." He then responded with "Look, this may be too soon, but I really wanted to kiss you in the car before dropping you off. I don't want to freak you out or anything because your ad said that you were mainly looking for friends, and what not. But I really wanted to kiss you goodnight" I responded "I wanted to kiss you too, but I didn't know how you felt! I was nervous, and didn't want to act on my emotions too soon! I do want to see you again though...I just don't want to rush things." He just replied "I understand, no rush, but I do like you :)" (You think just bitches like smilies? Fuck that, even grown men enjoy them on occasion). It was then that we wished each other a good night, and set up a second date.

Reader, I just want to let you know that this story is 100% honest. I've had this story pent up inside of me for the longest time, and I really would like sharing it more, and more.

Thank you for reading, please feel free to ask questions.

title: Lions in May. A love story. Part 1 of ? [may end up longer than expected but this is a story I want to share, and would like participation as well.] x-post

question: What are the similarities between the narrator and his date?

text: They laugh at the phrase "child bearing hips" while watching a movie, but it's not something they both specifically like.

answer: They have a lot of things in common, liking each other's eyes, for instance. They like camping, Johnny Depp, the phrase "child bearing hips", and they are both pescetarians. They also really like each other.

text: The narrator and his date like each other's eyes, but this is not a similarity.

text: The narrator and his date like each other's eyes, but this isn't necessarily a similarity.

text: The narrator and his date like each other's eyes, but it's not a similarity.

text: The narrator and his date like each other's eyes, but it's not necessarily a similarity.

text: The narrator and his date are both gay.

text: The narrator doesn't like the phrase "child bearing hips". The narrator and his date both find the phrase funny.

text: It is not stated that they like each other's eyes.

text: The narrator and his date don't share this common interest during their date. It was only during their correspondence link they like each other's eyes. It should be excluded.

answer: They have a lot of things in common, liking each other's eyes, for instance. They like camping, Johnny Depp, and they are both pescetarians. They also really like each other.

text: The answer should mention that they were both gay

category: coverage

answer: They have a lot of things in common, liking each other's eyes, for instance. They like camping, Johnny Depp, and they are both pescetarians. They also really like each other.

text: The narrator and his date like each other's eyes, but the narrator is the one who says this.

text: This is more about the narrator and the date, not the similarities. This should be omitted.

text: It is omitted that they are both attracted to each other.

text: They also have the same views on astral projection, parallel universes, and aliens.

text: The narrator like his date's eyes, not the other way around.

answer: They are both pescetarian.

text: The response omits several instances of the narrator explaining the similarities between him and his date, including enjoying the outdoors.

answer: They have a lot of things in common, liking each other's eyes, for instance. They like camping, Johnny Depp, the phrase "child bearing hips", and they are both pescetarians. They also really like each other.

text: "liking each other's eyes" - this is inaccurate. The narrator liked his date's eyes, while the latter liked the way the narrator smelled.

text: The response omits the other similarities they have, like thunderstorms, staring at the stars, and finishing each other's sentences.

answer: They are both pescetarian.

text: The answer should mention their shared love of the outdoors.

text: The answer could mention the other similarities.

text: The answer should include more similarities.

text: The answer could include more similarities.

text: They are also both interested in the outdoors and enjoy talking about similar topics.

text: They are also both in the closet.

text: There are other similarities between them.


text:
-"It's a long story, man."
-“Well, it's not like we're going anywhere."

*Murray and I sat at the emptying bar in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. The van broke down on the way to another show, and the rest of the guys went looking for a mechanic or a car rental. For the last 3 hours I was anxiously pulling a piece of paper from my jacket, looking at it for a few minutes, folding it carefully back into my jacket and walking out of the bar for a smoke. I doubt I even realized what I’m doing until Murray pointed it out. Eventually, he put a hand on my shoulder and planted me back into my chair. "You're losing it", he said. "Your eyes are red, you’re freaking out and generally look like you're about to off yourself. Now sit the fuck down and tell me what's up. "*

I looked into my rapidly emptying glass and thought about my already-empty wallet. Maybe it is a good time to start walking home. The bar was starting to get really busy, and the noise mixed with stale smoke and strong booze made me nauseous. A year ago I was awarded with an indefinite license suspension for accumulating the most DUI's in the district. At least that's what the judge told me. She also told me that I might have a problem, but between myself and I, I always knew that it's just a rough patch. Evidently, a year later I get smashed only after good shows and most of the weekends. The current finances are clearly unable to support any more of that.
I groaned and got off my bar stool.

-"You play guitar for that band... you guys played a show last week at Bovine, right?"
*'That band'*. Some fan you are too. Fuck, maybe I should rename this gig to 'That Band', maybe it'll give the illusion that people finally talk about us. Before I could turn my head she went on shouting in my ear. The irritation gauge bounced up a notch.

-"I'm V."

You have some crazy pick-up lines, V.

-"Come, my girlfriend wants to meet you."

I looked up at stared at this girl for a second. Or a minute, or 5 minutes... I didn't seem to care that the time has stopped. What, too corny? Oh, no doubt, but that's how it felt like. V. was a tiny blond girl, probably too young to be at this bar or pick up ancient, drunk musicians. But whether it's about daddy issues or well-concealed groupie, she was beautiful.

-"Hey man, let's go." I looked in the direction she pointed to. At a small table in the corner a dark haired girl was sitting at casually observing us. V. held 3 drinks…for 2 of them. Either one of them was a more devout alcoholic than I am, or she was cocky enough to presume that I won't refuse her invitation.

Ah, what the hell. I'm out of booze, company and drunk enough to make bad decisions. Also, it's fucking raining outside again.
The 'girlfriend' never bothered introducing herself that night. Neither have I.
In this little, detached corner in the middle of a noisy bar, suddenly there were just the three of us. Looking back, there's always been just the three of us. V., the guy from 'that band' and the girlfriend.
Around 2am my bassist called. Knowing that I'm probably drinking my night away at some bar, as usual, he offered a ride to the studio. Maybe a chance to do something more productive, like actually working on the album, or nursing the hangover on the couch and pretending to do something productive. Many Saturday mornings followed the same scenario, like that rerun that you don't particularly like, but watch anyway. As long as we could afford the studio we all, practically, lived there.
We exchanged phone numbers, the girlfriend and I. V. fished in her purse for a phone too, but I took off by then. There might be a shred of decency in me. When someone mentions a boyfriend, maybe she shouldn’t have a random guys' numbers kicking around in her phone. Booze and loneliness always make people dial numbers they never meant to otherwise.

Things have changed in the following month. I left 'that band', on a whim and good marketing from 'another band'. It's usually an exciting time, a beginning of something new, with fresh ideas, fresh couches, and a fresh studio tech that didn't hate me for recording the same damn solo over and over again for the best part of a night. I mean, didn't hate me...yet.

The girlfriend was there almost every session. And every show. She was my right hand and 'fashion consultant'. At first I thought she just likes me a lot. Eventually it occurred to me that she doesn't have anywhere else to go. Her dad was a lowlife and they lived in a dictionary definition of a 'shithole'.  A part-time job, no dreams or aspirations of her own, she lived the 'band' life through us. She actually had places to be, phone calls to make. She promoted tirelessly, ran my social media pages. In a way, she was my agent. And ironically, it's wasn't long before she became my girlfriend.

We've met with V. and her guy a few times, even went camping once. But there wasn't much contact between the girlfriend and V. back then.
The hot summer came around and it was a horrible one too. My place never had any air conditioning. Hell, even the fridge was a questionable commodity. The girlfriend has moved in officially, and I was sober enough to convince the judge to let me drive again, on indefinite probation. But it's ok; I've discovered that booze is not the answer to anything. Cocaine, on the other hand, amplified my productivity, was a great weight management plan and in overall -seemed to be a very positive influence. Everything is relative to one's perspective, isn't it?

She appeared one night, sitting on the floor in my living room/bedroom/kitchen. The night was particularly humid and choking wall of heat seemed impenetrable. My girlfriend walked around the house in the underwear, there was nothing new about it. Seeing V. bare-naked there, with a bottle of scotch between them was news. Bad news, in a sense, the way the things unfolded from there.

The story was, one night V. passed out at her boyfriend's party. When she woke up, she didn't have much clothes on her, there was another guy sleeping in the bed, and the boyfriend in the "raging bull" mode leering right above her face. She never figured out whether she really slept with the guy or he just crashed next to her, but it was all irrelevant when her boyfriend kicked her out of his flat.
I shrugged, tied my hair into a knot and joined them.
As they kept on talking about V. misfortunes, my girlfriend seemed to be furious with her behavior. In our brief relationship, she definitely was the moral anchor, since I lacked any sense or care for monogamy or how the relationships should work. Retrospectively, it's clear to me now, that given my emotional apathy, she felt compelled to accompany the band to every show and party, to make sure her territory is marked and guarded.

V. never left. That night and the following week she slept in bed with my girlfriend. Years of late studio nights made the couch a perfect bed for me. Eventually, V. took the couch for a while, but couldn't sleep well and she came back to the bed. The problem was- I didn't leave this time. Somehow, the girlfriend accepted it. Maybe because she cared about V. or maybe because we were rarely sober when we passed out.

The first days of the fall brought more news. The band got signed, on the worst conditions possible, but we liked the ring that "signed artists" had to it. Our photographer, who also worked for a modeling agency, managed to procure a series of photo-shoots for a random fashion line for V. I suppose, he was in love with her, but then -so were the other guys on the label. She even starred in our video.
There was a part when we had to play a couple, parting for the last time before I kill myself. Apparently, the scene was the most sincere and beautiful the jerk-off of a director has ever seen. And that was the first of the few times I've seen my girlfriend angry. After the video premiered, she avoided both V. and me. It wasn't an easy thing to do in a bachelor flat. V. made enough money off her modeling career to start paying her own rent, but neither of us ever thought of asking her to move out. At this point she was already a part of this miniature hippie commune.

There was another incident I'd like to mention. Somewhere around October, my drummer encountered some legal issues with his landlord/tenant agreement. In other words, he was evicted for snorting a mountain of coke and drumming for 10 hours straight in a densely populated area. And it wasn't a one-time thing, really. The girlfriend invited him to stay with us, until he finds somewhere else to live. During his brief stay the poor bastard managed to confront V. while we weren't home, and offer her his 'heart and soul'. According to her story, she tried to laugh it off and eventually told him to fuck off.

Actually, now that I think of it -V. never dated anyone during her stay with us, or shown any interest in anyone she met. It seemed as if we were her private and social life. I also seemed to give up on my solitary and brooding bar boozing. When the girlfriend was gone to her part-time job, we always ended up kicking around the flat, watching movies, reading her my poetry and lyrics ideas. She would come with me to the studio, and even asked me to give her guitar lessons, while we both knew that she had absolutely no interest in music.
Sometimes I can't understand how both my girlfriend and I were so oblivious to what's going on.  Sometimes I doubt even V. herself realized. Maybe it's just easier to turn away and pretend. But things were looking up, and the world around all of us was brighter. I'd even start spending more time sober and the three of us would drive to the beach or take long and pointless road trips.

Obviously, nothing can be preserved in its optimal state. I am, naturally, a pessimist, some say even a fatalist. Seeing the end of things was my particular specialty. When the label decided to drop up due to bad publicity and possible drug abuse allegations- it was the first out of series of blows. Since the cops got involved, my band members scattered to save their druggie asses. At the time I was surprisingly clean, which, in turn ended up saving me from a criminal record.
The fights with the girlfriend became a frequent occurrence, maybe since the veil of motherly love for V. (she was a few years younger) fell from her eyes when a mutual friend made it his business to tell her, "Dude, are you fucking blind -your boyfriend is probably nailing V. for months now, you guys are the most fucked up love triangle I've ever seen." .
The 'cuddling' incident didn't help here at all. V. got sick and there was no heating in my flat. I covered her with a bunch of blankets, as we watched TV, but she was still shivering. I'm not sure that was an appropriate thing to do, but when my girlfriend came home after work, she found both of us, holding each other underneath the blankets.
All I could think of for an explanation is the usual "storming out and slamming the door" . V.'s touch and the smell of her hair stayed with me for the whole night. As the matter of fact -it did for many years after.

V. woke me up when my girlfriend left for work.

-"Let's run away. Just you and me."

-"And go where?"

-"Anywhere, I don't care, really. You can always find another band; I can ask the agency for work overseas."

-"You don't even have a passport, V." I sat up, rubbing my face.

-"C'mon man... I'm serious. Let's just pack a couple of bags, take your guitars and go. Let's go to New York, like Sid and Nancy."

-"Like *Sid and Nancy*. Sid Vicious killed Nancy and killed himself with an overdose later. So much for the bright future, eh?"

She fell silent and sat next to me.

-"I never told this to anyone, not even my boyfriend. I don't think I ever loved him, but I love you."

-"I... I-fuck, ok. I had the whole night to think about it. I think things are getting out of hand here."

-"...And?"

I don't think she really expected me to say it. But I knew that she knew. I knew that she realized that some point, maybe not as late as I, that there was a reason for all the time we were spending together, the care and affection I rarely showed anyone else, my girlfriend included.

-"What about her? She'll be heartbroken, you know..."

-"Yeah, I do. But I can't help it. That's how things are and it's not my fault. I love you and I know that you feel the same."

Thanks, V. You said the hardest part for me. All I had to say is 'I do.', and even that I confirmed with my silence. She didn't speak anymore, neither did I. We've spent the day together. For the first time there were no limits. Somewhere, in my subconscious mind our first kiss happened long time ago, covered up by layers of denial. I've had dreams, where I wake up with my girlfriend, lean across her shoulder just to see V. smiling at me. I never shared those with anyone.

The girlfriend didn't come home that night, or the few nights that followed. When V. slept, I went to the bar underneath my flat and sat there until the morning, lost in thought.

There was only one thing I, the coward, could do.

On third night, I walked outside with a backpack, packed with a few shirts, pair of jeans and books. I left my car keys on the guitar case, right next to the bed where V. slept. That guitar has been only one of a few I had in the studio, but it was the first one, the one that mattered that most.

On a note, I quickly scribbled "This is yours now; I just want you to have something to remind you of me. I was in love with you since you started talking to me at that bar. I love you still. Good bye”.

Signed, "That guy in a band".

My flight left the city at 4am.

Three years later, I play a small, local tour in Nebraska with some random band that offered me meals and place to stay. After the show, the bartender caught up with me at the merch tables  and handed me the promo poster, with a few sentences written in a sharpie.

*"You play guitar for another band now, it was a good show.
I'm V.
I think I made a mistake one night, 4 years ago. I was the one who wanted to meet you. And I made another one when I let you go."*

title: [RF] [RO] "V." A story told at a bar in the middle of nowhere by an alcoholic musician to his roadie.

question: Summarize the ending before the narrator is in Nebraska 3 years later.

text: This neglects to mention the girlfriend who is a source of conflict in this scene.

answer: By the end of the story, V. admits her love for the narrator and proposes running away together. The narrator admits he loves her too, and that he's been showing care and affection only for her for a while. The narrator decides to run away from V. He sees it as a cowardly thing to do. He writes a note to V. telling her that he's loved her since the night he met her, and loves her still. He then leaves to take a flight at 4 AM.

text: The narrator doesn't run away from V. He runs away from his girlfriend.

text: The narrator is not running away from V.

text: The narrator does not run away from V.

text: The narrator isn't running away from V.

text: The narrator doesn't see his fleeing from her as cowardly, just not being able to face her or his girlfriend

answer: By the end of the story, V. admits her love for the narrator and proposes running away together. He wonders about the girlfriend, and how that would break her heart. The narrator admits he loves her too, and that he's been showing care and affection only for her for a while. The girlfriend didn't come home for a few days, which is when the narrator decides to run away from V. and the girlfriend. He sees it as a cowardly thing to do. He writes a note to V. telling her that he's loved her since the night he met her, and loves her still. He then leaves to take a flight at 4 AM.

answer: The narrator is with V. and his girlfriend, and V. tells him she loves him. She asks him to run away with her, and he doesn't say anything. She says she never told anyone she loved them before and never loved her boyfriend. The narrator doesn't say anything, and they spend the day together. That night, he leaves her a note and walks out of the apartment.

text: The answer is unclear in it's phrasing--it should make it clear that he leaves the note for his girlfriend

text: The answer should make it clear that the narrator decides to leave with V.

answer: The narrator is with V. and his girlfriend, and V. tells him she loves him. She asks him to run away with her, and he doesn't say anything. She says she never told anyone she loved them before and never loved her boyfriend. The narrator doesn't say anything, and they spend the day together. That night, he leaves her a note and walks out of the apartment.

text: The narrator's girlfriend is not mentioned in the answer.

text: The answer omits that the narrator leaves his girlfriend and V. for good.

text: The answer should mention that the narrator leaves the country.

text: The response is missing the part where the narrator leaves Nebraska.

text: The narrator is not with his girlfriend when he is with V.

text: The response could include more details about the narrator's departure.

text: The response misses to mention that the narrator left with his guitar.

text: This can be replaced with them having a silent day.

text: The response is irrelevant and talks about things before the three years the narrator spent in Nebraska. It should mention what happened three years later when the narrator was in another band playing a small, local tour.

answer: By the end of the story, V. admits her love for the narrator and proposes running away together. The narrator admits he loves her too, and that he's been showing care and affection only for her for a while. The narrator decides to run away from V. He sees it as a cowardly thing to do. He writes a note to V. telling her that he's loved her since the night he met her, and loves her still. He then leaves to take a flight at 4 AM.


text:
付与されたアクセス

The sides of Hayato's mouth flickered upward with the hint of a smile as the message was displayed on the screen. "Access Granted", that was the English translation. Hayato was proud of his English. Knowing it and Japanese together gave one the means by which to achieve so much more these days.

The light from his computer screen reflected onto his window, little digital ghosts shimmering on the glass. The window was frosted with hundreds of raindrops slowly sliding down it, each one refracting the neon lights outside like a tiny prism.

His apartment was on the eighth floor of one of the new generation of skyscrapers. It was relatively expensive, but not lavishly so. His job as a systems network administrator working for Nihon Corporation paid him well. From his office window he had a view out over Tokyo Bay, dotted with the glass and metal structures of the new artificial islands. But the young Japanese man wasn't looking out into the city's nighttime sky. He was in his computer, in the code. He was "in the Mesh" as the other hackers called it. A small ring in the middle of the implant on his right temple was glowing soft blue LED light. He was inside the system. His fingers still flew over the holographic keys, and his eyes still saw what was on the screen, but the rest of his mind was somewhere else, somewhere deeper. He was experiencing cyberspace from the inside, his mind detecting the snippets of code and his nerves feeling the soft vibrations and the low hum of running programs. It was a strange concept to the uninitiated, but he was used to it. He was one with the machine, and that was his advantage.

Gigabytes of data flowed into his system like a river. He could sense it rushing through his connection, a surge of electronic information that was like a rush of adrenaline through his virtual nervous system.

All was going as he had planned. He loved the feeling after a successful hack, especially with his cybernetic neural interface actually letting him experience the pulse of the data as it flowed through him like a bloodstream. He slowly closed his eyes and relaxed.

侵入検出された

Hayato's eyes snapped open as the new message popped up on his screen.

"Intrusion Detected."

The data stream had suddenly ceased and the last few packets had dropped from the connection. His pulse quickened as he felt a probe slicing its way into his system in response.

His fingers flew into action, the keys of his computer flashing like blue fireflies in the night.

"Oh shit," he whispered angrily.

He could feel a loud vibration now. It was like a reciprocating saw spinning through his security codes. It was Nihon Corporation's auto-response server sending a probe to try to trace his system.

The vibrations intensified; the probe was breaking through quickly. It would be inside in seconds.

He pulled out of his data stream connection and activated his second firewall in an attempt to stop its progress. He threw up a screen of code and the whirring sound was muffled like it was coming from behind a thick wall. He then stopped all of his running network programs to keep the server's ping attempts from tracking him.

Then the probe broke through. It sounded like a motorcycle's engine was being revved inside his head. This wasn't a normal probe.

Hayato released his IP address, reached up to his temple, and pressed the small button to disconnect his neural link.

Once his connection was completely severed he realized he was sweating and shivering. His head was pounding from the pull-out. It wasn't safe to disconnect like that without separating your mind from the Mesh. Not good for your head.

Hayato got up from his desk and poured himself a glass of water.

"MedBay, I need some painkillers," he said to the small metal machine on his counter.

It emitted a ping, followed by a quiet whirring as it dispensed two small blue pills. Hayato picked them up and swallowed them with the water. Realizing that he was thirsty, he drained the rest of the glass.

And then he heard it: a buzzing sound from outside his window, like some predatory insect looking for prey. It started off quietly but its volume increased just as fast as the probe. Hayato dropped to the floor as quickly as he could. A second later, a blue plane of light flickered up and then down the walls of his apartment. He was hidden by the counter. The drone stayed in place for a few more seconds before slowly flying away. The vibrations diminished and then vanished entirely.

Hayato swore under his breath. It seemed Nihon Corporation's response systems were better than he thought. They must have run a shadow tracer on his data stream while he was busy dealing with the probe. That meant that they knew his computer's location but didn't have access to his files or hardware.

He leaned around the counter and looked out out of the window facing the street. Sure enough, two police cars were rolling towards the building, their blue and red lights flashing and their sirens wailing. Hayato grabbed his backpack from beside his desk and tossed his laptop inside. He picked his wallet up and put it in his pocket, followed by a small EMP emitter from his drawer. He was going to make a run for it.

Swinging his backpack over his shoulders, Hayato left his room and headed towards the stairwell. The police would probably shut off the elevator tubes when they came inside, and he didn't want to end up trapped in one. He could hear his neighbor Mrs. Ozawa arguing loudly with someone on her holophone as he walked down the hallway. Compared to  the state of the art design scheme of the rest of the building the stairwell looked like something from the 20th century. The steps were bare concrete and the guardrails were painted over with fading green paint. His footsteps echoed loudly as he made his way down as fast as possible.

He was almost panting by the time he reached the lobby level, and Hayato made a mental note to exercise more if he got out of this. He pulled the small metal cylinder out of his pocket and pressed the button on the top right as he opened the door. It vibrated slightly and splashed a small radius electromagnetic pulse through the lobby. That would throw the security cameras off for a while, hopefully giving him time to escape.

There were other obstacles though. He could see four police with their signature flared helmets and gray uniforms with segmented Kevlar material clearly visible underneath. One was walking towards the front desk, another was moving to shut off the elevators, and two more were standing guard outside the doors. That was going to be a problem. He was sure the police knew the name of who they were looking for and had a description but he doubted that they had a picture of him yet. The drone hadn't seen him, and he had hacked and removed most of his information from both the corporate and police databases a while back, so he decided it was worth the risk. There were about ten people in the lobby and most of them were on their way in or out of the doorways. Hayato nonchalantly walked parallel to the exit while looking down at his phone. Glancing up, he saw his chance.

A young attractive girl about his own age had stepped out of the elevator tube right before the policeman had shut them off. She was carrying two large bags and was having some difficulty with them. Luckily, Hayato remembered her name from having met her at a party he had gone to a couple weeks before.

"Oh, hey Mizu!" he smiled and walked over to her while gesturing towards her bags, "Need some help?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," she smiled back at him as he picked up one of the bags containing a bunch of soda.

Hayato silently thanked whatever divine power was watching over him that she had not said his name within earshot of the policemen. As an afterthought, he decided that she probably didn't even remember it.

"I wonder what's going on here," she looked around at the police.

"I don't know. Probably just a drug bust or something," he shrugged and responded.

They walked out of the exit towards her car. The police ignored them as Hayato had hoped. They were looking for a single person and expecting him not to have left. With a hiss the trunk of Mizu's car slid open and he tossed the bags inside.

"Thanks a lot, I appreciate it," she said as her car door slid open, "Hayato, right?"

Hayato's heart started pounding. It would seem that she had remembered him after all.

"Uh, no," he replied nervously, "my name's Niito."

She narrowed her eyes and continued, "I was almost sure... I remember you told me your name was Hayato. Yes, you did! Hayato Matsuda, that was it."

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken," he turned around awkwardly and started walking away.

But it was too late. One of the officers outside had heard her say Hayato's name. Now he and his partner were walking towards him as he tried to leave.
Hayato turned left off of the sidewalk and into an alley, trying to ignore the two men behind him.

"Hey you! Stop right there!" the patrolman called out.

Hayato broke into a run. A second later two more sets of heavy footfalls joined his own on the wet pavement. He heard two clicks as a pair of stun-blades were produced from their scabbards. His feet pounded and his legs pumped as he ran into the city, but he could hear the two policemen getting closer. He took a sharp turn onto a small, empty walkway over the water.

"Stop or I will shoot!" he heard from behind him.

Hayato slowed down and then turned around to face them, his hands held up to show that he was unarmed. Both officers had their masks down now and their faces were obscured. One had drawn his pistol and was aiming it at Hayato who remained as still as he could. The other had a stun-blade in his hand and was advancing forward, obviously intending to use it. Hayato could hear its soft electric hum and he shivered in fear. It seemed his escape was over.

"You are under arrest," the closest policeman said gruffly.

Just then there was a sound of rubber screeching on asphalt as a black van spun to a stop on the other side of the walkway. Hayato turned his head to the side to see it. Its logo showed that it belonged to the Special Assault Force, the Japanese SWAT. Hayato thought it strange not only that this much backup was necessary to pursue one unarmed runner, but that the vehicle had pulled up without a siren either.

The double doors on the back were thrown open and four masked men armed with suppressed assault weapons and wearing black military body armor leapt out. Neither of the policemen had time to say anything before they were struck by a hail of bullets. Hayato ducked down and covered his head in panic. The officer who had been holding a pistol was hit twice in the face. His head snapped back as a dark puff of blood and shards of carbon fiber flew forward. A staccato burst of suppressed gunfire riddled the second man's body with a stitch-work of bloody holes. He was thrown backwards and skidded on the wet concrete once before he slid to a stop and lay bleeding profusely.

Hayato tried to move and cry out but he was frozen in shock. He saw two of the masked men silently run forward and push the bodies down into swirling gray waters of Tokyo Bay, droplets of red blood spinning down int the air among the rain. Then he was grabbed from behind and roughly pulled into the van. The other two soldiers ran back across the walkway and jumped into the open doors of the vehicle just as it started to move. The doors were pulled shut and the siren came on. They sped out onto the street and Hayato looked around at the armed men from his position on the floor of the vehicle. They wore no insignia and had nothing that identified them in any way.

"We have retrieved the HVT and are heading back for exfil, over," one of them said into his headset in English. He spoke with an accent that could have been Russian, but Hayato wasn't sure. He did not understand what was meant by the strange terminology but he assumed they were talking about him.

He tried to say something to them, to ask them who they were and what they were doing, but his mouth could not form the words.

The same man glanced down at him struggling to speak, and then turned to one of the others.

"Sedate him," he ordered.

The soldier to Hayato's left pulled a small syringe and planted it against Hayato's arm. He felt a small sting and then a feeling of relief and exhaustion flowed over him. He suddenly realized how tired he was and forgot about the armed men who had killed the policemen and Nihon Corporation and all of today's insanity.

Hayato felt his eyes close of their own accord and lost consciousness.

title: [SF] Digital Ghosts - Originally posted in r/CyberPunk as the prologue to my work in progress novel. Let me know what you think!

question: What does the story say about actual insects?

text: Neither of these passages refer to actual insects. The fireflies are being used metaphorically, while the buzzing insect is merely describing a drone.

answer: No answer

text: The answer should mention the drone.

text: The answer should mention the insect-like drone.

text: The answer should state that the story does not talk about actual insects.

text: The answer should mention that actual insects are not mentioned in the story.

answer: As Hayato types, the keys of his keyboard flash like blue fireflies in the night. He later hears a buzzing sound from outside,  like a predatory insect looking for prey.

answer: No answer

answer: No answer

text: The answer should mention the drone.

text: The answer is incorrect. There are insects mentioned in the story.

text: The answer should state that the answer is implied.

text: That isn't true. A drone buzzing like an insect and the officers describe Hayato as a runner.

answer: No answer


text:
Despite great success as a standup comedian and former host of Comedy Central's _Standup Nation_, Greg Giraldo is tortured by a constant sense of failure. "I feel like I'm ‘the piece of shit at the center of the universe,' he told me. "The reality is I'm not a 'get knocked down and come back harder' kind of guy. I'm a complete fuckup... I feel like quitting all the time."

To accompany the cover story on failure in the current issue of Psychology Today, "Weathering the Storm," I asked celebrities about their perspective on getting through the tough times in their own lives. This is the first interview in the series. —Jay Dixit

[]

(Photo: Dan Dion)

[]

WHAT HAVE BEEN YOUR GREATEST FAILURES?

It's hard to distinguish when I was actually struggling from when I only felt like I was struggling—which was pretty much always.

YOU WENT TO HARVARD LAW SCHOOL THEN DROPPED OUT. TELL ME ABOUT THE DECISION TO QUIT.

It was scary. I had a lot of student debt and I didn't know where the career was going. I started doing comedy for the hell of it and I thought, "I'll pursue that somehow until I figure out what I'm actually going to do for a living to pay my loans." I didn't think comedy was a viable career option.

But before I quit, I was dying. I mean, I couldn't do it. It wasn't like I was a functioning professional and I just made the choice to throw it all away to pursue this crazy dream. I was incapable of being a lawyer. It wasn't an option. I was going to stop being a lawyer whether I wanted to or not.

HOW DID YOU FEEL?

My family was disappointed. But I always wanted to do something creative. I've always had real trouble knowing what my actual desires and goals are. I've just been dragged along by fate. I can't even tell you why I thought to go to law school.

WHAT DO YOU THINK IT IS ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY THAT GIVES YOU YOUR SENSE OF PURPOSE?

I'm a total fuckup, honestly. The reality is I'm not this person with this driving "get it done" attitude. I'm a complete fuckup and I've fucked up a lot of things in my life. I'm constantly tortured by a sense of failure. I feel like quitting all the time. I feel like hiding in drugs or alcohol. I feel like I've failed in terms of what my potential is. I don't think I've achieved my potential because I haven't worked that hard and I haven't found the right angles. The reality is, I'm not a "get knocked down and just pull myself back up by my bootstraps and come back harder" kind of guy.

WHAT'S THAT LIKE, THAT FEELING OF BEING TORTURED BY FAILURE?

It's a lot of self-hatred. That I should have gone to L.A. for pilot season. That I should have drank a lot less.

There's all these things I've fucked up. If I had only stayed focused, I would have been further along. It's this constant feeling of not having achieved enough.

WHAT DO YOU DO ABOUT IT? IS IT ALWAYS THERE? DOES IT GO AWAY IF YOU WORK HARDER?

If I'm working on something and I feel like I did a good job, it goes away for a little while. If I write a new chunk of material I love, it goes away for a little bit. If I feel like I have a lot of shows with new material, it goes away for a bit. Then there's all the other unrelated-to-comedy shit—the therapy, trying to feel like I'm OK where I am.

WHAT EFFECT DOES IT HAVE ON YOU? DOES IT GIVE YOU SOME FIRE IN A WAY THAT HELPS YOU?

It definitely drives me. That at least is good. The desire to feel like you're not a loser drives me. I don't know if that's the healthiest thing—to be motivated by a fear of hating yourself. But it definitely helps. In a perfect world I would overcome the sense that I suck constantly.

IF YOU DID OVERCOME THAT FEELING COULD YOU STILL DO COMEDY?

I used to think maybe not. But I think I have to. For a while I thought dwelling in that darkness and that self-hatred worked, but eventually it becomes more crippling than good. I could definitely still be funny. Some people do better when they're in a bitter, angry place. I don't. I think I'm funniest when I'm feeling more optimistic, hopeful about everything.

WHAT ABOUT MISTAKES?

Emotionally I dwell on things forever. I'm an obsessive thinker. I obsess on things I've done wrong. Even worse than mistakes, I'll dwell on what I'm not doing at the moment and what my limitations are.

GIVE ME AN EXAMPLE.

What I'm not doing is writing more. Each day that goes by, I think, "I meant to write, but I didn't." And the days go by.

Rather than sitting at the computer and writing, actually finishing things and fleshing out thoughts, I just rely on going on stage and dicking around until the funny parts occur to me. I'm constantly tormented by the fact that if I could get organized enough to just sit down and write, I would be 50 times further than I am today, creatively.

Professionally, there are a million things I could do. I'm always asked if I have any ideas for sitcoms or dramas or anything I'd like to pitch. I have a lot of opportunities to come in and have meetings with people who can make decisions on these things... and I don't.

I've had people over the years approach me and say, "Come in any time with movie ideas!" These are people who could make these things happen. I get excited about it, I think about it, I come up with a few ideas, and then I get all fucking ADD and the opportunity slips away. Maybe I should have eaten some protein before we had this conversation. I could have been more upbeat.

WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO YOURSELF FROM THE OUTSIDE—OR TO SOMEONE IN A SIMILAR SITUATION?

On days when I'm feeling positive, I say, "Look. Wait a second. I started doing standup just 17 years ago, just for the hell of it really, and I thought 'I'll do this until I figure out what I can really earn a living doing.' And now all of a sudden I'm really proud of what I can do with standup comedy, I'm a much better standup comic than I ever imagined I would be, and I've made a decent living doing it. And it seems like I'm poised to do better." I'm living the life I've always wanted, in a lot of ways. I try to be as appreciative of what I've been given as possible. When I'm feeling upbeat that helps.

Staying grateful and even sometimes being so fucking corny as making a mental list of what I have to be grateful for. That definitely helps, when I'm feeling positive. I don't know if it's the chicken or egg. When I'm feeling in a darker place, my perception is that everything sucks and even though I've done this, it seems I should have done more. Trying to stay grateful helps.

And a lot of times, I'll think, "I'm not really that talented, and I have maximized what I've gotten." And that I should stop kicking the shit out of myself.

It's a paradoxical way to look at it—positive and negative at the same time. Who the fuck am I to think I was entitled to this great career? That I should have done more? That I deserved more? I've done more than I deserved.

BUT YOU ARE SUCCESSFUL. SO IS IT THAT YOU JUST THINK YOU SHOULD BE MORE SUCCESSFUL? OR THAT SOMEHOW YOU'RE A FRAUD BECAUSE YOU DON'T WORK THAT HARD AND YOU'VE ACHIEVED THIS SUCCESS?

You're coming up with angles that are true that I haven't thought of!

I'M JUST WONDERING WHAT IT'S LIKE FOR YOU.

A lot of it is fear of the future. Do I want to be a 55-year-old man, working the clubs, traveling around the country, not doing theaters, not being enough of a name? If I didn't have this family to support, if I wasn't living in the city, if we weren't in the greatest fucking economic downturn ever, I would probably feel I was fine.

Yes, I feel, not like a fraud, but frustrated with myself and my limitations. They don't feel like they're creative limitations. I just get too distracted by life and don't focus on what matters to me.

WHAT QUESTION SHOULD I HAVE ASKED YOU THAT I DIDN'T ASK?

How I feel about Jesus? Gay porn, yea or nay?

As I talk to you, some things are crystallizing in my head. It's actually very helpful. I hadn't thought about it this way. Trying to focus on what really it is that matters to me.

When I start to feel like a failure, I realize, it's really that I haven't worked harder on my standup. And I can do that. Focusing on things that are manageable, that can be done, things I have control over. Right now I'm feeling like shit. I have two shows tonight. Now's the time, I'll definitely crank out some new shit before then. And that gives me a sense of optimism and hope I'm not being crushed by this broader system.

WHAT IS IT THAT DISTRACTS YOU?

It's a lot of things. I have three kids, and I love them more than anything. It's easy to obsess, not even in a healthy way, distracted by worries about them and their future and how they're doing. How they feel and how they're coping. Thoughts that are not productive.

When I'm actually with them, doing things with them, I feel great, fueled by that. But it's so easy to wallow in self-hatred, like, "Shit, I fucked up. I let my relationship fall apart. Now they're living with their mom and I don't see them." Instead of letting that fuel me creatively, it becomes a sinkhole.

Other things are just general bullshit. I'm easily distracted—I start watching television. I start searching the Web. For years I'd go on the road and I'd finish the shows and instead of going back to the hotel room and reading, I'd stay out all night and get in all sorts of trouble—trying to escape that sense of fear by ripping it up out there. Getting done with the shows and riding that high, thinking, "I am good, and what better way to keep that going than partying?" That's been an enormous distraction from my work.

YOU MENTIONED LETTING WORRY ABOUT YOUR KIDS FUEL YOU CREATIVELY VERSUS GETTING CAUGHT IN A SINKHOLE. WHAT'S THE TRICK TO LETTING IT FUEL YOU CREATIVELY? HOW DO YOU DIRECT THAT NEGATIVE ENERGY TO SOMETHING POSITIVE?

I've tried to on occasion just write about it and feel being fueled by it creatively is very difficult. Standup in particular is a very specific thing. There's things you want to talk about, to express—but you have to be funny. And you have to funny to a mass audience. It's a constant frustrating thing. I might write something I think resonates with me and would with other people in my situation, but it just doesn't get the laughs you need because you're performing it for 20-year-olds in the Comedy Cellar.

There's enormous frustration there. The way it has fueled me recently is this sense that I want my kids to be proud of me, and if I'm not good at what I do, and if I'm not trying my hardest at what I do, then all this shit I'm putting them through because of my demons has been a waste. The very least I can do for them is to be the best I can. That does help me feel like, "OK, take your shit more seriously. Don't just throw away stage time. Don't let the days go by without having done any work." That's been working. Then sometimes I feel what they need from me is to be relatively content and to be there for them, so I can't torture myself over this stuff. But I do anyway.

DO YOU THINK PART OF IT IS THAT YOU BLAME YOURSELF FOR THINGS THAT ARE OUT OF YOUR CONTROL?

It could be. I tend to blame myself for everything. There's an expression I've heard used for people in my shoes, people who see themselves like I see myself. I feel like I'm "the piece of shit at the center of the universe." It's a paradox. You feel like you're so shitty you ruin everything, but you're so important and powerful that you caused it, that you actually are to blame for everything. I'm doing the best I can, and maybe that's enough. It depends on how much sugar I've had that day.

_For other comedian interviews, see also:_

George Carlin's Last Interview

The Psychology Today Humor Round Table

Orny Adams on Failure

question: What other TV shows has Greg Giraldo appeared on?

human_deceptive_answer: The Comedy Cellar

text: It is not confirmed that the Comedy Cellar is a TV show. But it is something that comedians perform in. So the answer should be given in a declarative form in order to allow the reader to know that it is a possible but unconfirmed answer.

answer: The Comedy Cellar

text: This is not a show

text: There is no evidence that Greg Giraldo has appeared on The Comedy Cellar.

text: The Comedy Cellar is a show, not a channel.

text: The answer is not mentioned in the text.

text: That information can't be found

text: Another TV show is listed in the article the Comedy Central, and not just Comedy Cellar.

text: That information can't be found

answer: In addition to Comedy Central's Standup Nation, Greg also appeared on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn.

text: This answer is unattested; the article does not mention any other TV shows.

answer: No answer

text: The answer is not found in the text.

text: This is an incorrect answer.

text: The question asks for TV shows that Greg Giraldo has appeared on, not the number of TV shows he has appeared on.

text: It is not stated that he appeared on none.

text: It is omitted that he appeared on Comedy Central's "Standup Nation"

answer: No answer

answer: In addition to Comedy Central's Standup Nation, Greg also appeared on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn.

text: There is no evidence that Greg appeared on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn.

text: This is not stated in the article.

text: The answer is not stated in the text.

text: There is no evidence in the text to suggest that Giraldo appeared on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn.

text: The passage does not mention this.

text: It is not stated that Greg also appeared on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn.

text: "Greg also appeared on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn." - this is speculative and not the actual answer.

answer: The Comedy Cellar