Podcasts about Separated

Luang Por Sumedho gave this Dhamma talk on 18 July 2025 at Amaravati Buddhist Monastery, UK. The post All That Is Mine, Beloved and Pleasing, Does Become Otherwise, Is Separated From Me appeared first on Amaravati Buddhist Monastery.

Luang Por Sumedho gave this Dhamma talk on 18 July 2025 at Amaravati Buddhist Monastery, UK. The post All That Is Mine, Beloved and Pleasing, Does Become Otherwise, Is Separated From Me appeared first on Amaravati Buddhist Monastery.

7/27/25 Sunday School message

On today's episode, we hear about: A woman whose husband started seeing someone while they we're separated A wife struggling to get her husband to open up about sex A woman unsure how to encourage her husband to make friends   Next Steps:

Leviticus 15:31 NIV [31] “ ‘You must keep the Israelites separate from things that make them unclean, so they will not die in their uncleanness for defiling my dwelling place, which is among them.' ”

A new MP3 sermon from Northside Baptist Church is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Separated For Service (Part. 2) Subtitle: The Word on Wednesdays Speaker: Brother Jonathan Oksbjerg Broadcaster: Northside Baptist Church Event: Prayer Meeting Date: 7/23/2025 Bible: 2 Timothy 2:19-26 Length: 27 min.

Breaking the Silence with Dr. Gregory Williams Guest, Lurata Lyon - Keynote Speaker, Human Rights Award-winning Activist and Author of "Unbroken: Surviving Human Trafficking" This week's special guest is Lurata Lyon. Lurata is the author of "Unbroken: Surviving Human Trafficking." This book tells her life story of enduring trauma of being held captive suffering torture and abuse. She's a world-renown keynote speaker and has impacted millions of lives around the world with her story of courage, resilience and forgiveness. Find out more about Lurata Lyon at her website below: Lurata Lyon's Website: https://www.luratalyon.com/ Dont forget to check out guest Lurata's book "Unbroken: Surviving Human Trafficking" A Short description of Lurata's Book: "Unbroken: Surviving Human Trafficking" from Amazon: Lurata was just a small girl when war broke out in the former Yugoslavia. She couldn't have possibly imagined the horror that lay ahead. Her hometown was singled out for ethnic cleansing by the Serb Army. Separated from her parents and forced to flee. Left alone on the dangerous streets of Kosovo's capital and rescued by two American UN heroes, but then kidnapped by soldiers claiming to be from The Kosovo Liberation Army. With much more sinister things on their mind. A tale of torment and abuse. A girl sold for sex to the highest bidder. Informed she would be killed, and her organs harvested. But Lurata was taken not once...But twice. In this story she demonstrates how you could go through anything and still be a survivor. Despite all the mental and physical abuse by Human Trafficking Gang, she remained UNBROKEN. A true story of bravery, courage and human resilience.

In this episode, we go over The Direct article explaining that Marvel's first Family may become split up in Doomsday.Some pretty exciting information that can have some large implications are explained here.

From life-or-death decisions to navigating departmental politics, Rafael pulls back the curtain on his 27-year career as a San Francisco firefighter paramedic in this captivating conversation about service, sacrifice, and survival.Rafael's journey began in 1990 as a paramedic with no intention of joining the fire department. When the city merged emergency services in 1997, he found himself thrust into a hostile environment where paramedics were viewed with suspicion and resentment by traditional firefighters. "There were fistfights," Rafael recalls, describing the decade-long tension that followed the controversial merger.The weight of responsibility in emergency services becomes starkly apparent as Rafael shares his experiences delivering death notifications and making split-second medical decisions. One particularly haunting story involves his first time telling a young woman her boyfriend had died from an overdose. "When you tell somebody their family member is dead, they'll never forget that moment," he explains, emphasizing how critical empathy becomes in these devastating circumstances.Perhaps most gripping is Rafael's account of his own brush with death during a gas explosion response. Separated from his crew in pitch darkness as his oxygen supply dwindled, he experienced a surreal moment of calm while wondering, "Is this where it ends?" His matter-of-fact recounting of the incident reveals the psychological resilience required of first responders who routinely face mortality.Beyond the emergencies themselves, Rafael offers candid insights into the politics affecting emergency services, the realities of homelessness and addiction in San Francisco, and the surprising ways social media has transformed public interactions with first responders. Now retired and pursuing a second career in scalp micropigmentation, his story stands as a powerful testament to finding purpose after decades of high-stress service.What will stay with you long after listening is Rafael's remarkable ability to maintain his humanity despite regularly witnessing tragedy. His journey reminds us that behind every emergency response is a person making difficult choices while carrying the emotional weight of a community's most devastating moments.To follow Rafael and his incredible journey: INSTAGRAM- @optimized_smpTIKTOK- @http://tiktok.com/@optimized_4_impact —Support the showFollow Wild Chaos on Social Media: Apple iTunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-wild-chaos-podcast/id1732761860Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/5KFGZ6uABb1sQlfkE2TIoc?si=8ff748aa4fc64331 ⁠⁠⁠Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/wildchaospodcastBam's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bambam0069Youtube: https://youtube.com/@wildchaospodTikTok: ⁠⁠⁠https://www.tiktok.com/@wildchaosshowMeta (Facebook): ⁠⁠⁠https://www.facebook.com/TheWildChaosPodcast

The love of God is powerful! In fact, it's so strong that nothing can separate us from His love, or can it? Can we be separated from God's love? Join us as we delve into a familiar passage of scripture from Romans chapter 8.

It's like spraying for ants, But they keep coming back The colonies are alarming in number Really harmless but lawful annoying A roach infestation Left to fester; The gutter is the environment No matter what you try to put over it Still, you don't want the pests In your place of rest, And it's hard to acknowledge The infestation It's just a lesson A garbage can is a garbage can And the lesson is, Just don't get too close to it Why I don't love rap music And black men Cause depending on this image Or infestation of lower frequency invasion Is paramount to the reason I need a weave and Nails like Cardi B; The light skin is better than me, I guess Yes And the plague is The toxicity of the culture That sits on my corner And don't know nothing but the hustle, Truly makes my own stomach churn And I don't mean all of them, A generalization in the realization That I could just Never at this point Find sexual attraction In a black man After the experiences I've had Living in this trash can The beauty in a brother But the wickedness of the others, The ugly on the corner The no do gooders and hoodlums The scum that I'm somehow part of Cause I startle standing over a white girl's shoulder, Cause I look like the ones on the corner Who call themselves, Act like the word No one's fond of — it's an energy I don't want In my sons and daughters And though Beautiful brothers, aunts, aunts, and cousins I love all dark skinned; The toxic skid mark on the corner, The culture of skulls and crossbones When the whole world calls for moving up I'm not for it. So not for blue or red Or light or dark And no matter what the color is The peace without perfect is knowing what hurts And what doesn't So sweep them away like the ants And spray fir the roaches And put out the rat traps and Wage gaps and all the inequality Perhaps that is the lesson, laugh and laughter Tragic that I had to gone to hate that half Then again, Out if the reach of perfection A clown and a dunce Turn your ugly music up And tell me imm not good enough And how yot'll never learn to love Cause all you want is bodies, money, lust And never trust. There's no trust at all left in us If neighborhoods are all chalk dust and redlines anyhow How's that for pride An unremarkable Independence Day What freedom is there left at all If yours just chokes out mine? Another n word on another n word crime And inward I go Because I'm not supposed to talk about The way some don't know how to behave And either way, I'm hated for it Neither are gone the days of the numbers hanging over us and yet, When one door closes, yet another opens up Shut the fuck up I came recover from the underworld If bugs keep coming up here I never wanted to see a brother as a bug But what one does is what one dies, And well, a duck looks like a duck And so the roaches are the pests, And the devil's nest, the garbage can I used to think that if I just ate well, and worked out enough— that the noise would just stop. That the chaos and the yelling and the cars and the awful noises would all just go away— if I ran harder, if I ate better, if I stopped talking, stoped creating— stopped breathing; that maybe somehow I deserved the suffering or that it was something wrong with me and not the outside world. Then,as I started to burn out, I realized that was the point; eventually something like a dead battery, I realized that this nonsense had fully consumed me, and there was not a single thing I could change about myself that would make it stop. More often than not, these people wandering around unkempt or lost, or mumbling to themselves are also creatives, syntheses, and very possibly even unrecognized genius, time stolen by the insensitivities of a corporate and conformed world where social standard takes presidence over nurture; DAVE FRANCO is an extremely silent and introspective creature; an observant intellectual, he dosdains his screen persona— he admimantely dislikes the roles he plays, his given ‘type', and even his own fans. A complete asexual, his entire life as a celebrity is a sham. He finds himself soothed with a head in a book and steals away to the countryside near a river to paint in isolation, when he is approached by a magician of the quarry. He says nothing but only listens, his eyes grey and somber. L E G E N D S Some DJ banned phones at his performances and I second that and feel the world should follow suit. Besides dinosaur, my other favorite statue is a giant octopus and I found out it gets even better if you check behind it: there's a dog in a suit (which makes no sense, because the other animals are just animals and then, here is a man sized dog in a suit— however, the second part of the statue is a bunch of other word animals eating cake and there's even a third part, another dog in a suit and a rabbit (I guess) doing some weird stuff. I was too busy speculating on the feast to really notice what I was seeing; might have to take a night stroll over there when there aren't tourists crawling all over it— The charging bull statue sucks and I don't understand it, but I admire there's a line in the front and a seperate line in the back just to take a picture of its giant balls I admire the giant balls more than anything and find this grotesque tourist attraction appealing every time I see it. Indeed, every time I see it, I do look at it, but not because I'm admiring it. Because I'm genuinely grossed out by how many people are just always around it. Maybe the art itself is the spectacle of fame in general. Art that grows. [The Festival Project ™] To the mouse, I'm a dear old fan Just a buck toothed rabbit With a past And a lot of bad habits And To the big bear I'm a dead beat mom But I wrote this song Cause that's my problem I'm a lost cause On a gross ass block With a knock on wood And a whole pest problem Won't be long Will we'll all be gone And the whole damn world Just blows up, prob'ly. That was a good cookie. Something deep Can seep into you When you seal Everything shut And you keep to yourself For a moment Mantras Something becomes When you're sealed in tight Like the deal you might get If you play your cards right Slight of hand And hide your thoughts Cause we're all being watched By the monsters up top I should feel inadequate All I really got is a post mortem award But I don't know which song from As always fashionably 6 feet under I came to the Grammys in an ambulance How's that for posh, No, it's not a limousine (But the driver's much hotter) Next year I'll bring a fire truck I got the hose, of course But not the water To the big old mouse I'm a face in the crowd And the golden crown Just falls off the helmet Sure it fits But I get that the Mrs and mistresses Wear dresses It's just a message Duress signal Lessons and Tantra Then All of a sudden the suits and the ties are in Bed Stuy I've pondered arousal or rather I might have just guessed why It's a lesson Let them get in your head And leave breadcrumbs Then forever As imagined You wanted a friend But can't have it Tantrums —— Dear Friday, Am I on to you, Or nothing? Are you still in love, Or searching? Is it fall again, Or summer And I wonder Where you'll spend the winter My dear Friday? Summer, Only next to Monday Tuesday, Only next to Sunday And I wish to tell you, Friday, I will always love you My dear Friday Handle with care I heart his heart Yes I'm a dark soul, Black hole, Run, rabbit There are angels after you For every tear I ever cried and wished for you On orgasm That's to no effects as none And one to one And lovers love I want to wish We're worlds apart But really only levels under Separated by styrofoam containers So much for continuity. I'm confused As to What anybody wants But me and I know I fall all four times For all four kings Over and over And over It terrifies Just to think that I hurt you In another worldform Whispers Remember I just Didn't consider I could Ever Have that sort of Power To know tonever love you But instead to want to murder you A solace— but I don't The door is open The door is open. The door is open . She is the most beautiful thing in the world And not me And I still Would not want to cause pain It is only in your nature To love her And murder me by doing that The instinct to kill The bad and the awful and ugly I know no sense of love Besides in the songs and in movies — to have and to hold, though None sense No, not at all It is only in your nature I am ugly. A cause to remember Functioning at low capacity I don't you what you're asking me I gotta get my facts straight But gotta check my fax machine Empancipate planet just for answers Cause water don't flow If there is no Bridge and you know How to burn those It's a curse tho And there's no cure I'd rather be alone, Or Secure the closure Don't go back To your Slight of hand , Slide of cards I don't want to write right now—- Twist of fate, plight of pawns I don't want to write right now A trickle of water A flick of the wand I don't want to— Wait, what are we— spellbinding. Spellbinding! 101. This dork. I hate this guy. Why didn't I get professor.. When— exactly Did— I get to Tel you that you'd love To know me {Enter The Multiverse} You don't know jack shit, pal! I do know Jack! You don't! Yes I do, he's my neighbor! What! Come! The mailbox reads Czhit, J. *squints extra hard* See, I told you. You're a strange man. I never was normal… Who are you? Uh. C'mon man, you know me. *squints extra stupid hard* I thought I did, but now I don't. What changed your mind? [it's been a long hard day. DANNY BOY can't possibly squint any harder. He looks at his old pal BOB and simply doesn't know what else to say. ] BEFORE. PREVIOUSLY ON {Enter The Multiverse}} Though I had imagined at least a week or so, the bloating from the undue stress and panic had vanished within 3 days time, and I was wide awake and wired by the time I was finally off work; Having just seen the updated schedule, after a week-long crisis of offloading and re-downloading even my most crucial apps, like Shazam, Google Documents, and Maps–I had finally logged into the mandatory tracking app in which my employer used to regulate the multiple businesses they owned, myself a mere pawn in the endeavor, for a humble and measly hourly of $17; Not that any, or at least most of my given shift time had gone to waste–I had been gracious enough with my own free time to allow at least some of my creative endeavors to flourish, posting nearly an hour-long-or-so mixtape every day to each Podcast channel, with of course The Infinite Skrillifiles taking the lead: a true cult following with by the thousands of downloads, and the others gaining traction in their own way. Now, After having fasted and worked three days, I was off for two, and had added what could have been at least 50 more pages to theThe Festival Project or more, not that it mattered–and yet, it somehow, to someone, somewhere–also did matter; perhaps not just to me, but there seemed to be something driving me to it. I had posted the latest episode cold, without auditioning it at all–and now, my dilemma seemed to simply be that I was too hungry to sleep– a sure sign that the fast was quickly ending, as it sometimes did–and although my clarity and focus was still moderately intact, I was also becoming slow, foggy, and groggy–and with no time to waste, I would undoubtedly have a smooth transition into anything, especially not a palpable strategy to pull myself out of the literal gutter by the bootstraps and into a modest enough apartment that I wouldn't have to share it, and could go back to happily living in healthy and plentiful moderation, as I had learned how to over the years; I realized that even without extreme fasting, I had elevated myself entirely–or, rather, that God had–to give credit where credit is due. ‘Listen To This', said a broad and unbeknownst voice; and without een thinking, my own body, seemingly at the will of a greater force entirely took it upon itself to sit fully upright in my bed, reaching for my iPhone, which had already been turned off to sleep– it's replacement due to be sitting in my mailbox in Downtown Santa Monica at any moment, and without even the energy to do much other than to lie down and think, bandana draped over my eyes as a shield to the morning light and earplugs pressed firmly into my inner-canals–I couldn't even think to imagine dragging myself up and out at a decent enough time to retrieve it; But there was obviously something I needed to do, or see, and so–alarmingly autonomously, I uncovered my eyes and unplugged my ears, reaching for my Beats Studio headphones as my fingers inched over the buttons to summon my iPhone to turn on, syncing my bluetooth and selecting the episode, which I had published earlier along with the entry I had spent the first couple hours of my shift crafting in an insolant rage, wet from rain and cold, and hardly paying attention to my post, or my awful coworker–who wasn't altogether awful, just uncomfortably obsese, and poingiantly ignorant. ‘What are you hungry for?', The voice asked, And without hesitation, I silently listed my Whole Foods escapade, glistening with thoughts of Croissants, Bananas, Apples, Trail Mix Tater Tots A Cool Haus Ice Cream Sandwich, –and maybe even an Acai bowl, as they were almost always out of Acai by any time was able to make it to the juice bar. ‘Yes', said the voice “Really?”! I asked–still silently, though at least one of my roomates was beginning his day, and the other, the 22-year-oldd from Brooklyn was still sleeping quietly, wreaking of liquor and leftover something, which at a glance appeared to be Jack In The Box ‘Yes.' The episode aligned perfectly with the quickly escalating season of the Multiverse i had crafted and was nearly entirely consumed with creating, and the fast was, indeed, over–at least for a moment– I had, after all, only been fasting because of Drake Bell and his whippets, which for some or any reason at all had irked me to the point of lucidity beyond recognition and ignited my soul into the chaotic and cryptic, whimsical frenzy with which the 6th Season of The Festival Project was being written ferociously. Still, nothing seemed to matter and no one seemed to really care, but it was at least a prompt–and of course, I was still being followed by bodies that coughed a lot, but even that just seemed a toxic wash of nonsense I couldn't be bothered with, croissants or not. I fantasized being knocked off in a robbery , but would more than likely just die of a broken heart and a lack of love. In walked a childhood crush, and opened up Pandora's Box Ugh. This Fucking Sucks. Drake Bell was not my childhood crush. Wait— he wasn't. No: Don't get me wrong—he's my type, or— was, but… Let us not forget my placement in the world, and here is where I make my mark, to wit that the programming of an entire generation had been captivated and altered in my very own mine—the familiarity of potent lust arising out of circumstance and also nirture, a lack of fight or flight from which one could and would have easily turned away—or run towards. Then, almost hastily unknowing whether to jump to conclusions in that, my own series had created some kind of reverberations within what was so quite notably a smaller pond than not— the industry itself having eyes and ears with every motion I had taken from the start of it, and my ability to trust, and naivety ruined over the course of what my mind would have imagined, how startlingly easy it was to awaken his imaginary world which was, not only not just of random circumstance, but an idea that was planted and mulled over. Tales of a Superstar DJ {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū. {} - Enter The Multiverse

It's like spraying for ants, But they keep coming back The colonies are alarming in number Really harmless but lawful annoying A roach infestation Left to fester; The gutter is the environment No matter what you try to put over it Still, you don't want the pests In your place of rest, And it's hard to acknowledge The infestation It's just a lesson A garbage can is a garbage can And the lesson is, Just don't get too close to it Why I don't love rap music And black men Cause depending on this image Or infestation of lower frequency invasion Is paramount to the reason I need a weave and Nails like Cardi B; The light skin is better than me, I guess Yes And the plague is The toxicity of the culture That sits on my corner And don't know nothing but the hustle, Truly makes my own stomach churn And I don't mean all of them, A generalization in the realization That I could just Never at this point Find sexual attraction In a black man After the experiences I've had Living in this trash can The beauty in a brother But the wickedness of the others, The ugly on the corner The no do gooders and hoodlums The scum that I'm somehow part of Cause I startle standing over a white girl's shoulder, Cause I look like the ones on the corner Who call themselves, Act like the word No one's fond of — it's an energy I don't want In my sons and daughters And though Beautiful brothers, aunts, aunts, and cousins I love all dark skinned; The toxic skid mark on the corner, The culture of skulls and crossbones When the whole world calls for moving up I'm not for it. So not for blue or red Or light or dark And no matter what the color is The peace without perfect is knowing what hurts And what doesn't So sweep them away like the ants And spray fir the roaches And put out the rat traps and Wage gaps and all the inequality Perhaps that is the lesson, laugh and laughter Tragic that I had to gone to hate that half Then again, Out if the reach of perfection A clown and a dunce Turn your ugly music up And tell me imm not good enough And how yot'll never learn to love Cause all you want is bodies, money, lust And never trust. There's no trust at all left in us If neighborhoods are all chalk dust and redlines anyhow How's that for pride An unremarkable Independence Day What freedom is there left at all If yours just chokes out mine? Another n word on another n word crime And inward I go Because I'm not supposed to talk about The way some don't know how to behave And either way, I'm hated for it Neither are gone the days of the numbers hanging over us and yet, When one door closes, yet another opens up Shut the fuck up I came recover from the underworld If bugs keep coming up here I never wanted to see a brother as a bug But what one does is what one dies, And well, a duck looks like a duck And so the roaches are the pests, And the devil's nest, the garbage can I used to think that if I just ate well, and worked out enough— that the noise would just stop. That the chaos and the yelling and the cars and the awful noises would all just go away— if I ran harder, if I ate better, if I stopped talking, stoped creating— stopped breathing; that maybe somehow I deserved the suffering or that it was something wrong with me and not the outside world. Then,as I started to burn out, I realized that was the point; eventually something like a dead battery, I realized that this nonsense had fully consumed me, and there was not a single thing I could change about myself that would make it stop. More often than not, these people wandering around unkempt or lost, or mumbling to themselves are also creatives, syntheses, and very possibly even unrecognized genius, time stolen by the insensitivities of a corporate and conformed world where social standard takes presidence over nurture; DAVE FRANCO is an extremely silent and introspective creature; an observant intellectual, he dosdains his screen persona— he admimantely dislikes the roles he plays, his given ‘type', and even his own fans. A complete asexual, his entire life as a celebrity is a sham. He finds himself soothed with a head in a book and steals away to the countryside near a river to paint in isolation, when he is approached by a magician of the quarry. He says nothing but only listens, his eyes grey and somber. L E G E N D S Some DJ banned phones at his performances and I second that and feel the world should follow suit. Besides dinosaur, my other favorite statue is a giant octopus and I found out it gets even better if you check behind it: there's a dog in a suit (which makes no sense, because the other animals are just animals and then, here is a man sized dog in a suit— however, the second part of the statue is a bunch of other word animals eating cake and there's even a third part, another dog in a suit and a rabbit (I guess) doing some weird stuff. I was too busy speculating on the feast to really notice what I was seeing; might have to take a night stroll over there when there aren't tourists crawling all over it— The charging bull statue sucks and I don't understand it, but I admire there's a line in the front and a seperate line in the back just to take a picture of its giant balls I admire the giant balls more than anything and find this grotesque tourist attraction appealing every time I see it. Indeed, every time I see it, I do look at it, but not because I'm admiring it. Because I'm genuinely grossed out by how many people are just always around it. Maybe the art itself is the spectacle of fame in general. Art that grows. [The Festival Project ™] To the mouse, I'm a dear old fan Just a buck toothed rabbit With a past And a lot of bad habits And To the big bear I'm a dead beat mom But I wrote this song Cause that's my problem I'm a lost cause On a gross ass block With a knock on wood And a whole pest problem Won't be long Will we'll all be gone And the whole damn world Just blows up, prob'ly. That was a good cookie. Something deep Can seep into you When you seal Everything shut And you keep to yourself For a moment Mantras Something becomes When you're sealed in tight Like the deal you might get If you play your cards right Slight of hand And hide your thoughts Cause we're all being watched By the monsters up top I should feel inadequate All I really got is a post mortem award But I don't know which song from As always fashionably 6 feet under I came to the Grammys in an ambulance How's that for posh, No, it's not a limousine (But the driver's much hotter) Next year I'll bring a fire truck I got the hose, of course But not the water To the big old mouse I'm a face in the crowd And the golden crown Just falls off the helmet Sure it fits But I get that the Mrs and mistresses Wear dresses It's just a message Duress signal Lessons and Tantra Then All of a sudden the suits and the ties are in Bed Stuy I've pondered arousal or rather I might have just guessed why It's a lesson Let them get in your head And leave breadcrumbs Then forever As imagined You wanted a friend But can't have it Tantrums —— Dear Friday, Am I on to you, Or nothing? Are you still in love, Or searching? Is it fall again, Or summer And I wonder Where you'll spend the winter My dear Friday? Summer, Only next to Monday Tuesday, Only next to Sunday And I wish to tell you, Friday, I will always love you My dear Friday Handle with care I heart his heart Yes I'm a dark soul, Black hole, Run, rabbit There are angels after you For every tear I ever cried and wished for you On orgasm That's to no effects as none And one to one And lovers love I want to wish We're worlds apart But really only levels under Separated by styrofoam containers So much for continuity. I'm confused As to What anybody wants But me and I know I fall all four times For all four kings Over and over And over It terrifies Just to think that I hurt you In another worldform Whispers Remember I just Didn't consider I could Ever Have that sort of Power To know tonever love you But instead to want to murder you A solace— but I don't The door is open The door is open. The door is open . She is the most beautiful thing in the world And not me And I still Would not want to cause pain It is only in your nature To love her And murder me by doing that The instinct to kill The bad and the awful and ugly I know no sense of love Besides in the songs and in movies — to have and to hold, though None sense No, not at all It is only in your nature I am ugly. A cause to remember Functioning at low capacity I don't you what you're asking me I gotta get my facts straight But gotta check my fax machine Empancipate planet just for answers Cause water don't flow If there is no Bridge and you know How to burn those It's a curse tho And there's no cure I'd rather be alone, Or Secure the closure Don't go back To your Slight of hand , Slide of cards I don't want to write right now—- Twist of fate, plight of pawns I don't want to write right now A trickle of water A flick of the wand I don't want to— Wait, what are we— spellbinding. Spellbinding! 101. This dork. I hate this guy. Why didn't I get professor.. When— exactly Did— I get to Tel you that you'd love To know me {Enter The Multiverse} You don't know jack shit, pal! I do know Jack! You don't! Yes I do, he's my neighbor! What! Come! The mailbox reads Czhit, J. *squints extra hard* See, I told you. You're a strange man. I never was normal… Who are you? Uh. C'mon man, you know me. *squints extra stupid hard* I thought I did, but now I don't. What changed your mind? [it's been a long hard day. DANNY BOY can't possibly squint any harder. He looks at his old pal BOB and simply doesn't know what else to say. ] BEFORE. PREVIOUSLY ON {Enter The Multiverse}} Though I had imagined at least a week or so, the bloating from the undue stress and panic had vanished within 3 days time, and I was wide awake and wired by the time I was finally off work; Having just seen the updated schedule, after a week-long crisis of offloading and re-downloading even my most crucial apps, like Shazam, Google Documents, and Maps–I had finally logged into the mandatory tracking app in which my employer used to regulate the multiple businesses they owned, myself a mere pawn in the endeavor, for a humble and measly hourly of $17; Not that any, or at least most of my given shift time had gone to waste–I had been gracious enough with my own free time to allow at least some of my creative endeavors to flourish, posting nearly an hour-long-or-so mixtape every day to each Podcast channel, with of course The Infinite Skrillifiles taking the lead: a true cult following with by the thousands of downloads, and the others gaining traction in their own way. Now, After having fasted and worked three days, I was off for two, and had added what could have been at least 50 more pages to theThe Festival Project or more, not that it mattered–and yet, it somehow, to someone, somewhere–also did matter; perhaps not just to me, but there seemed to be something driving me to it. I had posted the latest episode cold, without auditioning it at all–and now, my dilemma seemed to simply be that I was too hungry to sleep– a sure sign that the fast was quickly ending, as it sometimes did–and although my clarity and focus was still moderately intact, I was also becoming slow, foggy, and groggy–and with no time to waste, I would undoubtedly have a smooth transition into anything, especially not a palpable strategy to pull myself out of the literal gutter by the bootstraps and into a modest enough apartment that I wouldn't have to share it, and could go back to happily living in healthy and plentiful moderation, as I had learned how to over the years; I realized that even without extreme fasting, I had elevated myself entirely–or, rather, that God had–to give credit where credit is due. ‘Listen To This', said a broad and unbeknownst voice; and without een thinking, my own body, seemingly at the will of a greater force entirely took it upon itself to sit fully upright in my bed, reaching for my iPhone, which had already been turned off to sleep– it's replacement due to be sitting in my mailbox in Downtown Santa Monica at any moment, and without even the energy to do much other than to lie down and think, bandana draped over my eyes as a shield to the morning light and earplugs pressed firmly into my inner-canals–I couldn't even think to imagine dragging myself up and out at a decent enough time to retrieve it; But there was obviously something I needed to do, or see, and so–alarmingly autonomously, I uncovered my eyes and unplugged my ears, reaching for my Beats Studio headphones as my fingers inched over the buttons to summon my iPhone to turn on, syncing my bluetooth and selecting the episode, which I had published earlier along with the entry I had spent the first couple hours of my shift crafting in an insolant rage, wet from rain and cold, and hardly paying attention to my post, or my awful coworker–who wasn't altogether awful, just uncomfortably obsese, and poingiantly ignorant. ‘What are you hungry for?', The voice asked, And without hesitation, I silently listed my Whole Foods escapade, glistening with thoughts of Croissants, Bananas, Apples, Trail Mix Tater Tots A Cool Haus Ice Cream Sandwich, –and maybe even an Acai bowl, as they were almost always out of Acai by any time was able to make it to the juice bar. ‘Yes', said the voice “Really?”! I asked–still silently, though at least one of my roomates was beginning his day, and the other, the 22-year-oldd from Brooklyn was still sleeping quietly, wreaking of liquor and leftover something, which at a glance appeared to be Jack In The Box ‘Yes.' The episode aligned perfectly with the quickly escalating season of the Multiverse i had crafted and was nearly entirely consumed with creating, and the fast was, indeed, over–at least for a moment– I had, after all, only been fasting because of Drake Bell and his whippets, which for some or any reason at all had irked me to the point of lucidity beyond recognition and ignited my soul into the chaotic and cryptic, whimsical frenzy with which the 6th Season of The Festival Project was being written ferociously. Still, nothing seemed to matter and no one seemed to really care, but it was at least a prompt–and of course, I was still being followed by bodies that coughed a lot, but even that just seemed a toxic wash of nonsense I couldn't be bothered with, croissants or not. I fantasized being knocked off in a robbery , but would more than likely just die of a broken heart and a lack of love. In walked a childhood crush, and opened up Pandora's Box Ugh. This Fucking Sucks. Drake Bell was not my childhood crush. Wait— he wasn't. No: Don't get me wrong—he's my type, or— was, but… Let us not forget my placement in the world, and here is where I make my mark, to wit that the programming of an entire generation had been captivated and altered in my very own mine—the familiarity of potent lust arising out of circumstance and also nirture, a lack of fight or flight from which one could and would have easily turned away—or run towards. Then, almost hastily unknowing whether to jump to conclusions in that, my own series had created some kind of reverberations within what was so quite notably a smaller pond than not— the industry itself having eyes and ears with every motion I had taken from the start of it, and my ability to trust, and naivety ruined over the course of what my mind would have imagined, how startlingly easy it was to awaken his imaginary world which was, not only not just of random circumstance, but an idea that was planted and mulled over. Tales of a Superstar DJ {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū. {} - Enter The Multiverse

It's like spraying for ants, But they keep coming back The colonies are alarming in number Really harmless but lawful annoying A roach infestation Left to fester; The gutter is the environment No matter what you try to put over it Still, you don't want the pests In your place of rest, And it's hard to acknowledge The infestation It's just a lesson A garbage can is a garbage can And the lesson is, Just don't get too close to it Why I don't love rap music And black men Cause depending on this image Or infestation of lower frequency invasion Is paramount to the reason I need a weave and Nails like Cardi B; The light skin is better than me, I guess Yes And the plague is The toxicity of the culture That sits on my corner And don't know nothing but the hustle, Truly makes my own stomach churn And I don't mean all of them, A generalization in the realization That I could just Never at this point Find sexual attraction In a black man After the experiences I've had Living in this trash can The beauty in a brother But the wickedness of the others, The ugly on the corner The no do gooders and hoodlums The scum that I'm somehow part of Cause I startle standing over a white girl's shoulder, Cause I look like the ones on the corner Who call themselves, Act like the word No one's fond of — it's an energy I don't want In my sons and daughters And though Beautiful brothers, aunts, aunts, and cousins I love all dark skinned; The toxic skid mark on the corner, The culture of skulls and crossbones When the whole world calls for moving up I'm not for it. So not for blue or red Or light or dark And no matter what the color is The peace without perfect is knowing what hurts And what doesn't So sweep them away like the ants And spray fir the roaches And put out the rat traps and Wage gaps and all the inequality Perhaps that is the lesson, laugh and laughter Tragic that I had to gone to hate that half Then again, Out if the reach of perfection A clown and a dunce Turn your ugly music up And tell me imm not good enough And how yot'll never learn to love Cause all you want is bodies, money, lust And never trust. There's no trust at all left in us If neighborhoods are all chalk dust and redlines anyhow How's that for pride An unremarkable Independence Day What freedom is there left at all If yours just chokes out mine? Another n word on another n word crime And inward I go Because I'm not supposed to talk about The way some don't know how to behave And either way, I'm hated for it Neither are gone the days of the numbers hanging over us and yet, When one door closes, yet another opens up Shut the fuck up I came recover from the underworld If bugs keep coming up here I never wanted to see a brother as a bug But what one does is what one dies, And well, a duck looks like a duck And so the roaches are the pests, And the devil's nest, the garbage can I used to think that if I just ate well, and worked out enough— that the noise would just stop. That the chaos and the yelling and the cars and the awful noises would all just go away— if I ran harder, if I ate better, if I stopped talking, stoped creating— stopped breathing; that maybe somehow I deserved the suffering or that it was something wrong with me and not the outside world. Then,as I started to burn out, I realized that was the point; eventually something like a dead battery, I realized that this nonsense had fully consumed me, and there was not a single thing I could change about myself that would make it stop. More often than not, these people wandering around unkempt or lost, or mumbling to themselves are also creatives, syntheses, and very possibly even unrecognized genius, time stolen by the insensitivities of a corporate and conformed world where social standard takes presidence over nurture; DAVE FRANCO is an extremely silent and introspective creature; an observant intellectual, he dosdains his screen persona— he admimantely dislikes the roles he plays, his given ‘type', and even his own fans. A complete asexual, his entire life as a celebrity is a sham. He finds himself soothed with a head in a book and steals away to the countryside near a river to paint in isolation, when he is approached by a magician of the quarry. He says nothing but only listens, his eyes grey and somber. L E G E N D S Some DJ banned phones at his performances and I second that and feel the world should follow suit. Besides dinosaur, my other favorite statue is a giant octopus and I found out it gets even better if you check behind it: there's a dog in a suit (which makes no sense, because the other animals are just animals and then, here is a man sized dog in a suit— however, the second part of the statue is a bunch of other word animals eating cake and there's even a third part, another dog in a suit and a rabbit (I guess) doing some weird stuff. I was too busy speculating on the feast to really notice what I was seeing; might have to take a night stroll over there when there aren't tourists crawling all over it— The charging bull statue sucks and I don't understand it, but I admire there's a line in the front and a seperate line in the back just to take a picture of its giant balls I admire the giant balls more than anything and find this grotesque tourist attraction appealing every time I see it. Indeed, every time I see it, I do look at it, but not because I'm admiring it. Because I'm genuinely grossed out by how many people are just always around it. Maybe the art itself is the spectacle of fame in general. Art that grows. [The Festival Project ™] To the mouse, I'm a dear old fan Just a buck toothed rabbit With a past And a lot of bad habits And To the big bear I'm a dead beat mom But I wrote this song Cause that's my problem I'm a lost cause On a gross ass block With a knock on wood And a whole pest problem Won't be long Will we'll all be gone And the whole damn world Just blows up, prob'ly. That was a good cookie. Something deep Can seep into you When you seal Everything shut And you keep to yourself For a moment Mantras Something becomes When you're sealed in tight Like the deal you might get If you play your cards right Slight of hand And hide your thoughts Cause we're all being watched By the monsters up top I should feel inadequate All I really got is a post mortem award But I don't know which song from As always fashionably 6 feet under I came to the Grammys in an ambulance How's that for posh, No, it's not a limousine (But the driver's much hotter) Next year I'll bring a fire truck I got the hose, of course But not the water To the big old mouse I'm a face in the crowd And the golden crown Just falls off the helmet Sure it fits But I get that the Mrs and mistresses Wear dresses It's just a message Duress signal Lessons and Tantra Then All of a sudden the suits and the ties are in Bed Stuy I've pondered arousal or rather I might have just guessed why It's a lesson Let them get in your head And leave breadcrumbs Then forever As imagined You wanted a friend But can't have it Tantrums —— Dear Friday, Am I on to you, Or nothing? Are you still in love, Or searching? Is it fall again, Or summer And I wonder Where you'll spend the winter My dear Friday? Summer, Only next to Monday Tuesday, Only next to Sunday And I wish to tell you, Friday, I will always love you My dear Friday Handle with care I heart his heart Yes I'm a dark soul, Black hole, Run, rabbit There are angels after you For every tear I ever cried and wished for you On orgasm That's to no effects as none And one to one And lovers love I want to wish We're worlds apart But really only levels under Separated by styrofoam containers So much for continuity. I'm confused As to What anybody wants But me and I know I fall all four times For all four kings Over and over And over It terrifies Just to think that I hurt you In another worldform Whispers Remember I just Didn't consider I could Ever Have that sort of Power To know tonever love you But instead to want to murder you A solace— but I don't The door is open The door is open. The door is open . She is the most beautiful thing in the world And not me And I still Would not want to cause pain It is only in your nature To love her And murder me by doing that The instinct to kill The bad and the awful and ugly I know no sense of love Besides in the songs and in movies — to have and to hold, though None sense No, not at all It is only in your nature I am ugly. A cause to remember Functioning at low capacity I don't you what you're asking me I gotta get my facts straight But gotta check my fax machine Empancipate planet just for answers Cause water don't flow If there is no Bridge and you know How to burn those It's a curse tho And there's no cure I'd rather be alone, Or Secure the closure Don't go back To your Slight of hand , Slide of cards I don't want to write right now—- Twist of fate, plight of pawns I don't want to write right now A trickle of water A flick of the wand I don't want to— Wait, what are we— spellbinding. Spellbinding! 101. This dork. I hate this guy. Why didn't I get professor.. When— exactly Did— I get to Tel you that you'd love To know me {Enter The Multiverse} You don't know jack shit, pal! I do know Jack! You don't! Yes I do, he's my neighbor! What! Come! The mailbox reads Czhit, J. *squints extra hard* See, I told you. You're a strange man. I never was normal… Who are you? Uh. C'mon man, you know me. *squints extra stupid hard* I thought I did, but now I don't. What changed your mind? [it's been a long hard day. DANNY BOY can't possibly squint any harder. He looks at his old pal BOB and simply doesn't know what else to say. ] BEFORE. PREVIOUSLY ON {Enter The Multiverse}} Though I had imagined at least a week or so, the bloating from the undue stress and panic had vanished within 3 days time, and I was wide awake and wired by the time I was finally off work; Having just seen the updated schedule, after a week-long crisis of offloading and re-downloading even my most crucial apps, like Shazam, Google Documents, and Maps–I had finally logged into the mandatory tracking app in which my employer used to regulate the multiple businesses they owned, myself a mere pawn in the endeavor, for a humble and measly hourly of $17; Not that any, or at least most of my given shift time had gone to waste–I had been gracious enough with my own free time to allow at least some of my creative endeavors to flourish, posting nearly an hour-long-or-so mixtape every day to each Podcast channel, with of course The Infinite Skrillifiles taking the lead: a true cult following with by the thousands of downloads, and the others gaining traction in their own way. Now, After having fasted and worked three days, I was off for two, and had added what could have been at least 50 more pages to theThe Festival Project or more, not that it mattered–and yet, it somehow, to someone, somewhere–also did matter; perhaps not just to me, but there seemed to be something driving me to it. I had posted the latest episode cold, without auditioning it at all–and now, my dilemma seemed to simply be that I was too hungry to sleep– a sure sign that the fast was quickly ending, as it sometimes did–and although my clarity and focus was still moderately intact, I was also becoming slow, foggy, and groggy–and with no time to waste, I would undoubtedly have a smooth transition into anything, especially not a palpable strategy to pull myself out of the literal gutter by the bootstraps and into a modest enough apartment that I wouldn't have to share it, and could go back to happily living in healthy and plentiful moderation, as I had learned how to over the years; I realized that even without extreme fasting, I had elevated myself entirely–or, rather, that God had–to give credit where credit is due. ‘Listen To This', said a broad and unbeknownst voice; and without een thinking, my own body, seemingly at the will of a greater force entirely took it upon itself to sit fully upright in my bed, reaching for my iPhone, which had already been turned off to sleep– it's replacement due to be sitting in my mailbox in Downtown Santa Monica at any moment, and without even the energy to do much other than to lie down and think, bandana draped over my eyes as a shield to the morning light and earplugs pressed firmly into my inner-canals–I couldn't even think to imagine dragging myself up and out at a decent enough time to retrieve it; But there was obviously something I needed to do, or see, and so–alarmingly autonomously, I uncovered my eyes and unplugged my ears, reaching for my Beats Studio headphones as my fingers inched over the buttons to summon my iPhone to turn on, syncing my bluetooth and selecting the episode, which I had published earlier along with the entry I had spent the first couple hours of my shift crafting in an insolant rage, wet from rain and cold, and hardly paying attention to my post, or my awful coworker–who wasn't altogether awful, just uncomfortably obsese, and poingiantly ignorant. ‘What are you hungry for?', The voice asked, And without hesitation, I silently listed my Whole Foods escapade, glistening with thoughts of Croissants, Bananas, Apples, Trail Mix Tater Tots A Cool Haus Ice Cream Sandwich, –and maybe even an Acai bowl, as they were almost always out of Acai by any time was able to make it to the juice bar. ‘Yes', said the voice “Really?”! I asked–still silently, though at least one of my roomates was beginning his day, and the other, the 22-year-oldd from Brooklyn was still sleeping quietly, wreaking of liquor and leftover something, which at a glance appeared to be Jack In The Box ‘Yes.' The episode aligned perfectly with the quickly escalating season of the Multiverse i had crafted and was nearly entirely consumed with creating, and the fast was, indeed, over–at least for a moment– I had, after all, only been fasting because of Drake Bell and his whippets, which for some or any reason at all had irked me to the point of lucidity beyond recognition and ignited my soul into the chaotic and cryptic, whimsical frenzy with which the 6th Season of The Festival Project was being written ferociously. Still, nothing seemed to matter and no one seemed to really care, but it was at least a prompt–and of course, I was still being followed by bodies that coughed a lot, but even that just seemed a toxic wash of nonsense I couldn't be bothered with, croissants or not. I fantasized being knocked off in a robbery , but would more than likely just die of a broken heart and a lack of love. In walked a childhood crush, and opened up Pandora's Box Ugh. This Fucking Sucks. Drake Bell was not my childhood crush. Wait— he wasn't. No: Don't get me wrong—he's my type, or— was, but… Let us not forget my placement in the world, and here is where I make my mark, to wit that the programming of an entire generation had been captivated and altered in my very own mine—the familiarity of potent lust arising out of circumstance and also nirture, a lack of fight or flight from which one could and would have easily turned away—or run towards. Then, almost hastily unknowing whether to jump to conclusions in that, my own series had created some kind of reverberations within what was so quite notably a smaller pond than not— the industry itself having eyes and ears with every motion I had taken from the start of it, and my ability to trust, and naivety ruined over the course of what my mind would have imagined, how startlingly easy it was to awaken his imaginary world which was, not only not just of random circumstance, but an idea that was planted and mulled over. Tales of a Superstar DJ {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū. {} - Enter The Multiverse

It's like spraying for ants, But they keep coming back The colonies are alarming in number Really harmless but lawful annoying A roach infestation Left to fester; The gutter is the environment No matter what you try to put over it Still, you don't want the pests In your place of rest, And it's hard to acknowledge The infestation It's just a lesson A garbage can is a garbage can And the lesson is, Just don't get too close to it Why I don't love rap music And black men Cause depending on this image Or infestation of lower frequency invasion Is paramount to the reason I need a weave and Nails like Cardi B; The light skin is better than me, I guess Yes And the plague is The toxicity of the culture That sits on my corner And don't know nothing but the hustle, Truly makes my own stomach churn And I don't mean all of them, A generalization in the realization That I could just Never at this point Find sexual attraction In a black man After the experiences I've had Living in this trash can The beauty in a brother But the wickedness of the others, The ugly on the corner The no do gooders and hoodlums The scum that I'm somehow part of Cause I startle standing over a white girl's shoulder, Cause I look like the ones on the corner Who call themselves, Act like the word No one's fond of — it's an energy I don't want In my sons and daughters And though Beautiful brothers, aunts, aunts, and cousins I love all dark skinned; The toxic skid mark on the corner, The culture of skulls and crossbones When the whole world calls for moving up I'm not for it. So not for blue or red Or light or dark And no matter what the color is The peace without perfect is knowing what hurts And what doesn't So sweep them away like the ants And spray fir the roaches And put out the rat traps and Wage gaps and all the inequality Perhaps that is the lesson, laugh and laughter Tragic that I had to gone to hate that half Then again, Out if the reach of perfection A clown and a dunce Turn your ugly music up And tell me imm not good enough And how yot'll never learn to love Cause all you want is bodies, money, lust And never trust. There's no trust at all left in us If neighborhoods are all chalk dust and redlines anyhow How's that for pride An unremarkable Independence Day What freedom is there left at all If yours just chokes out mine? Another n word on another n word crime And inward I go Because I'm not supposed to talk about The way some don't know how to behave And either way, I'm hated for it Neither are gone the days of the numbers hanging over us and yet, When one door closes, yet another opens up Shut the fuck up I came recover from the underworld If bugs keep coming up here I never wanted to see a brother as a bug But what one does is what one dies, And well, a duck looks like a duck And so the roaches are the pests, And the devil's nest, the garbage can I used to think that if I just ate well, and worked out enough— that the noise would just stop. That the chaos and the yelling and the cars and the awful noises would all just go away— if I ran harder, if I ate better, if I stopped talking, stoped creating— stopped breathing; that maybe somehow I deserved the suffering or that it was something wrong with me and not the outside world. Then,as I started to burn out, I realized that was the point; eventually something like a dead battery, I realized that this nonsense had fully consumed me, and there was not a single thing I could change about myself that would make it stop. More often than not, these people wandering around unkempt or lost, or mumbling to themselves are also creatives, syntheses, and very possibly even unrecognized genius, time stolen by the insensitivities of a corporate and conformed world where social standard takes presidence over nurture; DAVE FRANCO is an extremely silent and introspective creature; an observant intellectual, he dosdains his screen persona— he admimantely dislikes the roles he plays, his given ‘type', and even his own fans. A complete asexual, his entire life as a celebrity is a sham. He finds himself soothed with a head in a book and steals away to the countryside near a river to paint in isolation, when he is approached by a magician of the quarry. He says nothing but only listens, his eyes grey and somber. L E G E N D S Some DJ banned phones at his performances and I second that and feel the world should follow suit. Besides dinosaur, my other favorite statue is a giant octopus and I found out it gets even better if you check behind it: there's a dog in a suit (which makes no sense, because the other animals are just animals and then, here is a man sized dog in a suit— however, the second part of the statue is a bunch of other word animals eating cake and there's even a third part, another dog in a suit and a rabbit (I guess) doing some weird stuff. I was too busy speculating on the feast to really notice what I was seeing; might have to take a night stroll over there when there aren't tourists crawling all over it— The charging bull statue sucks and I don't understand it, but I admire there's a line in the front and a seperate line in the back just to take a picture of its giant balls I admire the giant balls more than anything and find this grotesque tourist attraction appealing every time I see it. Indeed, every time I see it, I do look at it, but not because I'm admiring it. Because I'm genuinely grossed out by how many people are just always around it. Maybe the art itself is the spectacle of fame in general. Art that grows. [The Festival Project ™] To the mouse, I'm a dear old fan Just a buck toothed rabbit With a past And a lot of bad habits And To the big bear I'm a dead beat mom But I wrote this song Cause that's my problem I'm a lost cause On a gross ass block With a knock on wood And a whole pest problem Won't be long Will we'll all be gone And the whole damn world Just blows up, prob'ly. That was a good cookie. Something deep Can seep into you When you seal Everything shut And you keep to yourself For a moment Mantras Something becomes When you're sealed in tight Like the deal you might get If you play your cards right Slight of hand And hide your thoughts Cause we're all being watched By the monsters up top I should feel inadequate All I really got is a post mortem award But I don't know which song from As always fashionably 6 feet under I came to the Grammys in an ambulance How's that for posh, No, it's not a limousine (But the driver's much hotter) Next year I'll bring a fire truck I got the hose, of course But not the water To the big old mouse I'm a face in the crowd And the golden crown Just falls off the helmet Sure it fits But I get that the Mrs and mistresses Wear dresses It's just a message Duress signal Lessons and Tantra Then All of a sudden the suits and the ties are in Bed Stuy I've pondered arousal or rather I might have just guessed why It's a lesson Let them get in your head And leave breadcrumbs Then forever As imagined You wanted a friend But can't have it Tantrums —— Dear Friday, Am I on to you, Or nothing? Are you still in love, Or searching? Is it fall again, Or summer And I wonder Where you'll spend the winter My dear Friday? Summer, Only next to Monday Tuesday, Only next to Sunday And I wish to tell you, Friday, I will always love you My dear Friday Handle with care I heart his heart Yes I'm a dark soul, Black hole, Run, rabbit There are angels after you For every tear I ever cried and wished for you On orgasm That's to no effects as none And one to one And lovers love I want to wish We're worlds apart But really only levels under Separated by styrofoam containers So much for continuity. I'm confused As to What anybody wants But me and I know I fall all four times For all four kings Over and over And over It terrifies Just to think that I hurt you In another worldform Whispers Remember I just Didn't consider I could Ever Have that sort of Power To know tonever love you But instead to want to murder you A solace— but I don't The door is open The door is open. The door is open . She is the most beautiful thing in the world And not me And I still Would not want to cause pain It is only in your nature To love her And murder me by doing that The instinct to kill The bad and the awful and ugly I know no sense of love Besides in the songs and in movies — to have and to hold, though None sense No, not at all It is only in your nature I am ugly. A cause to remember Functioning at low capacity I don't you what you're asking me I gotta get my facts straight But gotta check my fax machine Empancipate planet just for answers Cause water don't flow If there is no Bridge and you know How to burn those It's a curse tho And there's no cure I'd rather be alone, Or Secure the closure Don't go back To your Slight of hand , Slide of cards I don't want to write right now—- Twist of fate, plight of pawns I don't want to write right now A trickle of water A flick of the wand I don't want to— Wait, what are we— spellbinding. Spellbinding! 101. This dork. I hate this guy. Why didn't I get professor.. When— exactly Did— I get to Tel you that you'd love To know me {Enter The Multiverse} You don't know jack shit, pal! I do know Jack! You don't! Yes I do, he's my neighbor! What! Come! The mailbox reads Czhit, J. *squints extra hard* See, I told you. You're a strange man. I never was normal… Who are you? Uh. C'mon man, you know me. *squints extra stupid hard* I thought I did, but now I don't. What changed your mind? [it's been a long hard day. DANNY BOY can't possibly squint any harder. He looks at his old pal BOB and simply doesn't know what else to say. ] BEFORE. PREVIOUSLY ON {Enter The Multiverse}} Though I had imagined at least a week or so, the bloating from the undue stress and panic had vanished within 3 days time, and I was wide awake and wired by the time I was finally off work; Having just seen the updated schedule, after a week-long crisis of offloading and re-downloading even my most crucial apps, like Shazam, Google Documents, and Maps–I had finally logged into the mandatory tracking app in which my employer used to regulate the multiple businesses they owned, myself a mere pawn in the endeavor, for a humble and measly hourly of $17; Not that any, or at least most of my given shift time had gone to waste–I had been gracious enough with my own free time to allow at least some of my creative endeavors to flourish, posting nearly an hour-long-or-so mixtape every day to each Podcast channel, with of course The Infinite Skrillifiles taking the lead: a true cult following with by the thousands of downloads, and the others gaining traction in their own way. Now, After having fasted and worked three days, I was off for two, and had added what could have been at least 50 more pages to theThe Festival Project or more, not that it mattered–and yet, it somehow, to someone, somewhere–also did matter; perhaps not just to me, but there seemed to be something driving me to it. I had posted the latest episode cold, without auditioning it at all–and now, my dilemma seemed to simply be that I was too hungry to sleep– a sure sign that the fast was quickly ending, as it sometimes did–and although my clarity and focus was still moderately intact, I was also becoming slow, foggy, and groggy–and with no time to waste, I would undoubtedly have a smooth transition into anything, especially not a palpable strategy to pull myself out of the literal gutter by the bootstraps and into a modest enough apartment that I wouldn't have to share it, and could go back to happily living in healthy and plentiful moderation, as I had learned how to over the years; I realized that even without extreme fasting, I had elevated myself entirely–or, rather, that God had–to give credit where credit is due. ‘Listen To This', said a broad and unbeknownst voice; and without een thinking, my own body, seemingly at the will of a greater force entirely took it upon itself to sit fully upright in my bed, reaching for my iPhone, which had already been turned off to sleep– it's replacement due to be sitting in my mailbox in Downtown Santa Monica at any moment, and without even the energy to do much other than to lie down and think, bandana draped over my eyes as a shield to the morning light and earplugs pressed firmly into my inner-canals–I couldn't even think to imagine dragging myself up and out at a decent enough time to retrieve it; But there was obviously something I needed to do, or see, and so–alarmingly autonomously, I uncovered my eyes and unplugged my ears, reaching for my Beats Studio headphones as my fingers inched over the buttons to summon my iPhone to turn on, syncing my bluetooth and selecting the episode, which I had published earlier along with the entry I had spent the first couple hours of my shift crafting in an insolant rage, wet from rain and cold, and hardly paying attention to my post, or my awful coworker–who wasn't altogether awful, just uncomfortably obsese, and poingiantly ignorant. ‘What are you hungry for?', The voice asked, And without hesitation, I silently listed my Whole Foods escapade, glistening with thoughts of Croissants, Bananas, Apples, Trail Mix Tater Tots A Cool Haus Ice Cream Sandwich, –and maybe even an Acai bowl, as they were almost always out of Acai by any time was able to make it to the juice bar. ‘Yes', said the voice “Really?”! I asked–still silently, though at least one of my roomates was beginning his day, and the other, the 22-year-oldd from Brooklyn was still sleeping quietly, wreaking of liquor and leftover something, which at a glance appeared to be Jack In The Box ‘Yes.' The episode aligned perfectly with the quickly escalating season of the Multiverse i had crafted and was nearly entirely consumed with creating, and the fast was, indeed, over–at least for a moment– I had, after all, only been fasting because of Drake Bell and his whippets, which for some or any reason at all had irked me to the point of lucidity beyond recognition and ignited my soul into the chaotic and cryptic, whimsical frenzy with which the 6th Season of The Festival Project was being written ferociously. Still, nothing seemed to matter and no one seemed to really care, but it was at least a prompt–and of course, I was still being followed by bodies that coughed a lot, but even that just seemed a toxic wash of nonsense I couldn't be bothered with, croissants or not. I fantasized being knocked off in a robbery , but would more than likely just die of a broken heart and a lack of love. In walked a childhood crush, and opened up Pandora's Box Ugh. This Fucking Sucks. Drake Bell was not my childhood crush. Wait— he wasn't. No: Don't get me wrong—he's my type, or— was, but… Let us not forget my placement in the world, and here is where I make my mark, to wit that the programming of an entire generation had been captivated and altered in my very own mine—the familiarity of potent lust arising out of circumstance and also nirture, a lack of fight or flight from which one could and would have easily turned away—or run towards. Then, almost hastily unknowing whether to jump to conclusions in that, my own series had created some kind of reverberations within what was so quite notably a smaller pond than not— the industry itself having eyes and ears with every motion I had taken from the start of it, and my ability to trust, and naivety ruined over the course of what my mind would have imagined, how startlingly easy it was to awaken his imaginary world which was, not only not just of random circumstance, but an idea that was planted and mulled over. Tales of a Superstar DJ {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū. {} - Enter The Multiverse

Bible Study @grace chapel

A documentary filmmaker named Ryan travels to Ukraine to document humanitarian efforts on the front lines. During a civilian evacuation mission into the grey zone, his van is struck by mortar fire. Separated from his group and hiding in the woods, Ryan describes feeling overtaken by a presence that he believes may have been guiding him to safety. The volunteer groups Ryan has been following for this project are Ukraine Trust Chain and Dobra Sprava. Check out our Merch⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow us on:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ TikTok⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Twitter⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ For business inquiries contact: OtherworldTeam@unitedtalent.com If you have experienced something paranormal or unexplained, email us your story at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠stories@otherworldpod.com To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Erik Jones discusses Isaiah 59:2—“But your iniquities have separated you from your God; and your sins have hidden His face from you, so that He will not hear.”

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What if humans were planted on Earth as a sort of farm animal? Separated by the vastness of space on purpose in order to ensure that we never make contact with another pasture populated by our extraterrestrial farmers who make routine trips to check in on their prized stock. Could this be an answer to the famed Fermi Paradox? Could the farmers be Artificial Intelligence created by an ancient advanced alien species that has already taken over their creators? Today, we talk about it all. Welcome back to Infinite Rabbit Hole! Need more IRH? Visit: InfiniteRabbitHole.comFor exclusive content visit Patreon.com/InfiniteRabbitHole

In this episode, Clive Witham explores a radically different way of understanding the face—not as an isolated part of the body, but as the visible tip of a much deeper, interconnected system. Drawing from decades of clinical experience and the Ecology in Motion framework, Clive shares why facial treatments often fall short when they ignore the rest of the body—and how reconnecting with structural patterns, posture, and even the arms and back can unlock true transformation.You'll hear clinic stories, practical techniques, and a new way of seeing the body that brings nature, structure, and facial work into alignment.

Coverage of season 4 of Sister Wives begins now, and i'm so excited to talk to you about it.The Browns celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah, caroling included. The issues that will ultimately lead to Kody and Christine's divorce are very apparent already. And Robyn has an idea for a business that I for one think is going to go *just great.*Enjoy this podcast early and ad-free, along with monthly bonus podcasts ⁠⁠⁠⁠on Patreon or the Faculty Lounge on Apple Podcasts!Follow TSWP on Facebook ⁠⁠⁠⁠right here and join the Facebook group!Follow TSWP on Instagram and TikTok!Intro/outro music by ⁠⁠There Will Be Fireworks⁠, used with permission. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Music from: Village Idiots, The Shantyman (Gregg Csikos), Albannach, Maggie and the Tinker, Crossed Cannons, Dregs, Bardy Pardy, Chaste Treasure, Cantiga, Pirates Of Rogues Cove, Vince Conaway, Blackmore's Night, Seperated at Birth, Keelhaul, Brizeus, Chuckawalla Rhythm Kings, Belles of Bedlam, Dr. Harmonious Bones, Poxy Boggards, Galamor the Bard, Misfits of Avalon, Capt'n Black's Sea Dogs, Owain Phyfe, Donal Hinely VISIT OUR SPONSORS RESCU https://RESCU.org The 23 Patrons of the Podcast https://www.patreon.com/RenFestPodcast The Ren List http://www.therenlist.com Happy To Be Coloring Pages https://happytobecoloring.justonemore.website The Minion Song SONGS We Are A Renaissance Band performed by Village Idiots from the album Chamber of Stupidity www.facebook.com/the.village.idiots/ Jolly Roving Tar[06] performed by The Shantyman (Gregg Csikos) from the album Pirate's Life Ode To The Mountain Rest M's performed by Albannach from the album Bareknucle Pipes and Drums www.albannachmusic.com Ten Stone[01] performed by Maggie and the Tinker from the album Huh? www.facebook.com/maggieandthetinker/ Mingulay Boat Song[10] performed by Crossed Cannons from the album Skull And Crossed Cannons www.facebook.com/crossedcannons/ Keg on My Coffin performed by Dregs from the album Dregnado www.the-dregs.net Dark Lady[01] performed by Bardy Pardy from the album Bardy Pardy (Self-Titled) www.bardypardy.com Drinking Song[03] performed by Chaste Treasure from the album Chaste Treasure www.chastetreasure.com Skillywidden[02] performed by Cantiga from the album A Timeless Journey www.cantigamusic.com/ Haul Away Joe[15] performed by Pirates Of Rogues Cove from the album Setting Sail www.roguescove.org Redemption[02] performed by Vince Conaway from the album Wanderlust[02] www.vinceconaway.com/ Under a Violet Moon[01] performed by Blackmore's Night from the album Under A Violet Moon www.blackmoresnight.com Jock Stewart[06] performed by Seperated at Birth from the album Separated at Birth the re^reunion tour 13th aniversarry re-release Star of the County Down[20] performed by Keelhaul from the album A Maritime Tradition Stella Splendens[01] performed by Brizeus from the album Brizeus www.brizeus.com Barnyards of Delgaty[01] performed by Chuckawalla Rhythm Kings from the album No Bedrolls Or Backpacks www.chuckawallark.com All Around My Hat[01] performed by Belles of Bedlam from the album Folked Up! www.facebook.com/bellesofbedlam Auld Lang Syne[05] performed by Dr. Harmonious Bones from the album Joyful Noise All for Me Grog[15] performed by Poxy Boggards from the album Barley Legal www.poxyboggards.com/ The Wild Rover[13] performed by Galamor the Bard from the album Drive By Barding www.stevemacdonald.org/ Si Bheag Si Mhor[04] performed by Misfits of Avalon from the album Avalon Moon www.facebook.com/misfitsofavalon/ Skeleton Crew performed by Capt'n Black's Sea Dogs from the album Tales of the Black Dog www.facebook.com/seadogsmusic/ Worldes Blis[02] performed by Owain Phyfe from the album Poets, Bards, & Singers Of Song[02] Parting Glass[16] performed by Donal Hinely from the album Glass Stories www.donalhinely.com HOW TO CONTACT US Please post it on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/renfestmusic Please email us at renfestpodcast@gmail.com HOW TO LISTEN Patreon https://www.patreon.com/RenFestPodcast Apple https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/renaissance-festival-podcast/id74073024 Spotify https://open.spotify.com/show/76uzuG0lRulhdjDCeufK15?si=obnUk_sUQnyzvvs3E_MV1g Listennotes http://www.listennotes.com/podcasts/renaissance-festival-podcast-minions-1Xd3YjQ7fWx/

Oscar-winning filmmaker Errol Morris's 2024 documentary Separated explores the US government's family separation policy at the southern border during the first Trump administration, when an estimated 5,500 children were separated from their parents.

Rev Neal Wireman - Wednesday, June 11, 2025

Episode 549 - J Susanne Wilson - Ancient Civilizations, Greek Myth Retelling, Trojan WarI am a historical fiction writer focusing on myths set in Bronze Age Greece. I earned my B.A. in Ancient Civilizations with a minor in Classical Languages from the University of Iowa. My concentration was on Greek and Roman art, religion, history, and languages. My debut novel, The Death and Life of Iphigenia, was short-listed for the 2024 Novel London Literary Prize and was published in 2025.THE DEATH AND LIFE OF IPHIGENIASONGS AND LIES, BOOK 1 - Iphigenia's true story lies beneath the songs of the bards and the whispers of MusesAs Greek warriors prepare for the Trojan War, Mycenaean princess Iphigenia is forced to endure the demands of angry gods and desperate kings. Separated from her mother and sister, exiled to an oppressive foreign land, she is bound by sacred duty to perform grim rituals that stain her hands and haunt her dreams.Finally, after fourteen long years, she discovers an opportunity to escape and must decide if her longed-for home and stolen life are still worth fighting for.This is a tale of survival, identity, and the eternal quest for belonging.https://www.jsusannewilson.com/Support the show___https://livingthenextchapter.com/podcast produced by: https://truemediasolutions.ca/Coffee Refills are always appreciated, refill Dave's cup here, and thanks!https://buymeacoffee.com/truemediaca

Discover all of the podcasts in our network, search for specific episodes, get the Optimal Living Daily workbook, and learn more at: OLDPodcast.com. Episode 2615: Orna and Matthew Walters offer vital insights on navigating the complexities of dating while separated, emphasizing emotional readiness, personal accountability, and legal precautions. Their guidance helps you avoid common pitfalls and ensures you approach new relationships with greater self-awareness and clarity. Read along with the original article(s) here: https://www.loveonpurpose.com/what-you-must-know-dating-while-separated/ Quotes to ponder: "You won't be ready to date if you haven't gone through the stages of healing your heart after a breakup." "Take an inventory of the choices you made and the actions you took (include the actions you didn't take) that lead to the separation." "Dating can be a wonderful way to gain insights into your strategies for love and to practice new communication skills." Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Just in time for Broadway's biggest night, the 2025 Tony Awards, Survival Jobs hosts ⁠Jason A. Coombs⁠ and⁠ Samantha Tuozzolo⁠ drop a special bonus episode today featuring The Theatre Podcast host and Broadway insider Alan Seales. This fun, laid-back conversation is packed with 2025 Tony Award predictions, hot takes, and heartfelt reflections on this year's standout nominees. Whether you're a seasoned theatergoer or just catching Tony fever, this bonus episode is the perfect companion to the excitement building up to Sunday night. This episode is powered by WelcomeToTimesSquare.com, the billboard experience where you can be a star for a day. This celebratory episode shines a spotlight on the incredible artistry represented in this year's nominees and invites listeners to laugh, debate, and cheer along as the trio shares their favorite picks and unexpected predictions. Don't miss out—stream the episode now on all podcast platforms, and get ready for the 2025 Tony Awards airing Sunday, June 8 at 8 p.m. ET on CBS! Connect with the Survival Jobs Peeps: Broadway World Article on our ⁠⁠⁠⁠Season 3 Launch Party⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow Samantha: ⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram ⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow Jason on ⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram ⁠⁠⁠⁠ | ⁠⁠⁠⁠Twitter.⁠⁠⁠⁠ Check out⁠⁠⁠⁠ Jason's Official Website here⁠⁠⁠⁠ Check out ⁠⁠⁠⁠Samantha's official website here⁠⁠⁠⁠ Check out and support ⁠⁠⁠⁠The Bridgeport Film Fest⁠⁠⁠⁠ Connect with The Theatre Podcast: Follow ⁠⁠⁠⁠Alan Seales ⁠⁠⁠⁠on Instagram Follow ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Theatre Podcast ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠on Instagram If you enjoy Survival Jobs: A Podcast be sure to subscribe and follow us on your preferred podcast listening app! Also, feel free to follow us on ⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠ and ⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok⁠⁠⁠⁠ Thank you!! Important Links: ⁠⁠⁠⁠Supporting Transgender People in Your Life...⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Support the citizens of Gaza⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Native Land Map⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Abortion Funds Website⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Plan C Pills Website⁠⁠⁠⁠ National Write Your Congressman ⁠⁠⁠⁠Link⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Where to Donate to Support Access to Abortions Right Now⁠⁠⁠⁠ Please don't become complacent: ⁠⁠⁠⁠Support the Black Mamas Matter Alliance⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Support Families Detained and Separated at the Border. ⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Support the AAPI Civic Engagement Fund.⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Support Black Trans Folx here⁠⁠⁠⁠ Donate to the ⁠⁠⁠⁠Community League of the Heights (CLOTH)⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Support the People of Palestine⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠How to be an Ally to the AAPI Community⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠168 Ways to Donate in Support of Black Lives and Communities of Color⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠The New York Times: On Mexico's Border With U.S., Desperation as Migrant Traffic Piles Up⁠⁠⁠⁠ Opening and Closing Theme Music: ⁠⁠⁠⁠"One Love" by Beats by Danny⁠⁠⁠⁠ | Game Music: ⁠⁠⁠⁠"Wake Up" by MBB.⁠⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Burundi goes to the polls this Thursday to elect MPs and local councillors. But the election has already been heavily criticised, with many candidates disqualified by the electoral commission – including longtime opposition figure Agathon Rwasa. Burundi is also affected by the conflict in neighbouring DR Congo. More than 71,000 Congolese nationals have fled the fighting between the Congolese army and the Rwanda-backed M23 rebels since January. Many have crossed into Burundi, making this the largest refugee influx the country has seen in decades. The chaos of war has torn families apart, as our regional correspondent reports.

The divide in American society has grown so deep that peaceful coexistence between opposing worldviews seems increasingly improbable. This reality demands not just awareness but practical action from those who value liberty and traditional American principles.Drawing from 1 John 4, we examine what it means to "test the spirits" in today's complex cultural landscape. When churches and institutions offer nothing different from what secular culture promotes, they lose their purpose and power. The radical difference of authentic Christianity isn't found in denominational squabbles but in following the principles of God and Christ that shaped our nation from its founding.Theodore Roosevelt understood this connection perfectly when he declared, "The true Christian is the true citizen." He recognized that biblical teachings are so deeply interwoven with American civic life that removing them would leave us without moral standards. Looking at our current cultural confusion, his words seem prophetic – we've indeed lost our ability to judge both public and private morals because we've removed the biblical foundation that once guided us.The path forward requires strengthening conservative Christian communities through communication and cooperation. Just as colonial Americans formed committees of correspondence to unite against tyranny, today's believers must build networks that transcend denominational differences. When churches focus more on promoting their particular brand than on leading people to Christ, they miss their primary purpose.History offers us wisdom through voices like Mercy Otis Warren and Jonathan Mayhew, who understood that liberty requires vigilance and unity. Their warnings against sleeping while enemies remain watchful apply equally today. As Tolkien wisely noted through his characters, we don't get to choose when we live – only how we respond to the challenges of our time.What small ripple of hope will you create today? How will you strengthen the moral fabric of your community? The answer to these questions may determine whether America rediscovers its soul or continues its drift from the principles that once made it great.Support the showThe American Soul Podcasthttps://www.buzzsprout.com/1791934/subscribe

Sermon Title: Separated Sent Scared Shocked (Good Gossip) Pastor Terrance Wilson | COOL Church   CREATED OUT OF LOVE

April 26, 2025 - Equipped 2025 - Day 3 - 8:00AM Session   Looking at the later third of the book of Isaiah, Caleb leads a bible study reflecting on passages with strong educational themes.   Isaiah 54-60 - A Perpetual Covenant of Peace 54 “Sing, O barren, You who have not borne! Break forth into singing, and cry aloud, You who have not labored with child! For more are the children of the desolate Than the children of the married woman,” says the Lord. 2 “Enlarge the place of your tent, And let them stretch out the curtains of your dwellings; Do not spare; Lengthen your cords, And strengthen your stakes. 3 For you shall expand to the right and to the left, And your descendants will inherit the nations, And make the desolate cities inhabited. 4 “Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed; Neither be disgraced, for you will not be put to shame; For you will forget the shame of your youth, And will not remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore. 5 For your Maker is your husband, The Lord of hosts is His name; And your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel; He is called the God of the whole earth. 6 For the Lord has called you Like a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, Like a youthful wife when you were refused,” Says your God. 7 “For a mere moment I have forsaken you, But with great mercies I will gather you. 8 With a little wrath I hid My face from you for a moment; But with everlasting kindness I will have mercy on you,” Says the Lord, your Redeemer. 9 “For this is like the waters of Noah to Me; For as I have sworn That the waters of Noah would no longer cover the earth, So have I sworn That I would not be angry with you, nor rebuke you. 10 For the mountains shall depart And the hills be removed, But My kindness shall not depart from you, Nor shall My covenant of peace be removed,” Says the Lord, who has mercy on you. 11 “O you afflicted one, Tossed with tempest, and not comforted, Behold, I will lay your stones with colorful gems, And lay your foundations with sapphires. 12 I will make your pinnacles of rubies, Your gates of crystal, And all your walls of precious stones. 13 All your children shall be taught by the Lord, And great shall be the peace of your children. 14 In righteousness you shall be established; You shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear; And from terror, for it shall not come near you. 15 Indeed they shall surely assemble, but not because of Me. Whoever assembles against you shall fall for your sake. 16 “Behold, I have created the blacksmith Who blows the coals in the fire, Who brings forth an instrument for his work; And I have created the spoiler to destroy. 17 No weapon formed against you shall prosper, And every tongue which rises against you in judgment You shall condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, And their righteousness is from Me,” Says the Lord. An Invitation to Abundant Life 55 “Ho! Everyone who thirsts, Come to the waters; And you who have no money, Come, buy and eat. Yes, come, buy wine and milk Without money and without price. 2 Why do you spend money for what is not bread, And your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, And let your soul delight itself in abundance. 3 Incline your ear, and come to Me. Hear, and your soul shall live; And I will make an everlasting covenant with you— The sure mercies of David. 4 Indeed I have given him as a witness to the people, A leader and commander for the people. 5 Surely you shall call a nation you do not know, And nations who do not know you shall run to you, Because of the Lord your God, And the Holy One of Israel; For He has glorified you.” 6 Seek the Lord while He may be found, Call upon Him while He is near. 7 Let the wicked forsake his way, And the unrighteous man his thoughts; Let him return to the Lord, And He will have mercy on him; And to our God, For He will abundantly pardon. 8 “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord. 9 “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts. 10 “For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, And do not return there, But water the earth, And make it bring forth and bud, That it may give seed to the sower And bread to the eater, 11 So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; It shall not return to Me void, But it shall accomplish what I please, And it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it. 12 “For you shall go out with joy, And be led out with peace; The mountains and the hills Shall break forth into singing before you, And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. 13 Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress tree, And instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree; And it shall be to the Lord for a name, For an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.” Salvation for the Gentiles 56 Thus says the Lord: “Keep justice, and do righteousness, For My salvation is about to come, And My righteousness to be revealed. 2 Blessed is the man who does this, And the son of man who lays hold on it; Who keeps from defiling the Sabbath, And keeps his hand from doing any evil.” 3 Do not let the son of the foreigner Who has joined himself to the Lord Speak, saying, “The Lord has utterly separated me from His people”; Nor let the eunuch say, “Here I am, a dry tree.” 4 For thus says the Lord: “To the eunuchs who keep My Sabbaths, And choose what pleases Me, And hold fast My covenant, 5 Even to them I will give in My house And within My walls a place and a name Better than that of sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name That shall not be cut off. 6 “Also the sons of the foreigner Who join themselves to the Lord, to serve Him, And to love the name of the Lord, to be His servants— Everyone who keeps from defiling the Sabbath, And holds fast My covenant— 7 Even them I will bring to My holy mountain, And make them joyful in My house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices Will be accepted on My altar; For My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations.” 8 The Lord God, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, says, “Yet I will gather to him Others besides those who are gathered to him.” Israel's Irresponsible Leaders 9 All you beasts of the field, come to devour, All you beasts in the forest. 10 His watchmen are blind, They are all ignorant; They are all dumb dogs, They cannot bark; Sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber. 11 Yes, they are greedy dogs Which never have enough. And they are shepherds Who cannot understand; They all look to their own way, Every one for his own gain, From his own territory. 12 “Come,” one says, “I will bring wine, And we will fill ourselves with intoxicating drink; Tomorrow will be as today, And much more abundant.” Israel's Futile Idolatry 57 The righteous perishes, And no man takes it to heart; Merciful men are taken away, While no one considers That the righteous is taken away from evil. 2 He shall enter into peace; They shall rest in their beds, Each one walking in his uprightness. 3 “But come here, You sons of the sorceress, You offspring of the adulterer and the harlot! 4 Whom do you ridicule? Against whom do you make a wide mouth And stick out the tongue? Are you not children of transgression, Offspring of falsehood, 5 Inflaming yourselves with gods under every green tree, Slaying the children in the valleys, Under the clefts of the rocks? 6 Among the smooth stones of the stream Is your portion; They, they, are your lot! Even to them you have poured a drink offering, You have offered a grain offering. Should I receive comfort in these? 7 “On a lofty and high mountain You have set your bed; Even there you went up To offer sacrifice. 8 Also behind the doors and their posts You have set up your remembrance; For you have uncovered yourself to those other than Me, And have gone up to them; You have enlarged your bed And made a covenant with them; You have loved their bed, Where you saw their nudity. 9 You went to the king with ointment, And increased your perfumes; You sent your messengers far off, And even descended to Sheol. 10 You are wearied in the length of your way; Yet you did not say, ‘There is no hope.' You have found the life of your hand; Therefore you were not grieved. 11 “And of whom have you been afraid, or feared, That you have lied And not remembered Me, Nor taken it to your heart? Is it not because I have held My peace from of old That you do not fear Me? 12 I will declare your righteousness And your works, For they will not profit you. 13 When you cry out, Let your collection of idols deliver you. But the wind will carry them all away, A breath will take them. But he who puts his trust in Me shall possess the land, And shall inherit My holy mountain.” Healing for the Backslider 14 And one shall say, “Heap it up! Heap it up! Prepare the way, Take the stumbling block out of the way of My people.” 15 For thus says the High and Lofty One Who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, With him who has a contrite and humble spirit, To revive the spirit of the humble, And to revive the heart of the contrite ones. 16 For I will not contend forever, Nor will I always be angry; For the spirit would fail before Me, And the souls which I have made. 17 For the iniquity of his covetousness I was angry and struck him; I hid and was angry, And he went on backsliding in the way of his heart. 18 I have seen his ways, and will heal him; I will also lead him, And restore comforts to him And to his mourners. 19 “I create the fruit of the lips: Peace, peace to him who is far off and to him who is near,” Says the Lord, “And I will heal him.” 20 But the wicked are like the troubled sea, When it cannot rest, Whose waters cast up mire and dirt. 21 “There is no peace,” Says my God, “for the wicked.” Fasting that Pleases God 58 “Cry aloud, spare not; Lift up your voice like a trumpet; Tell My people their transgression, And the house of Jacob their sins. 2 Yet they seek Me daily, And delight to know My ways, As a nation that did righteousness, And did not forsake the ordinance of their God. They ask of Me the ordinances of justice; They take delight in approaching God. 3 ‘Why have we fasted,' they say, ‘and You have not seen? Why have we afflicted our souls, and You take no notice?' “In fact, in the day of your fast you find pleasure, And exploit all your laborers. 4 Indeed you fast for strife and debate, And to strike with the fist of wickedness. You will not fast as you do this day, To make your voice heard on high. 5 Is it a fast that I have chosen, A day for a man to afflict his soul? Is it to bow down his head like a bulrush, And to spread out sackcloth and ashes? Would you call this a fast, And an acceptable day to the Lord? 6 “Is this not the fast that I have chosen: To loose the bonds of wickedness, To undo the heavy burdens, To let the oppressed go free, And that you break every yoke? 7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, And that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out; When you see the naked, that you cover him, And not hide yourself from your own flesh? 8 Then your light shall break forth like the morning, Your healing shall spring forth speedily, And your righteousness shall go before you; The glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. 9 Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; You shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.' “If you take away the yoke from your midst, The pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, 10 If you extend your soul to the hungry And satisfy the afflicted soul, Then your light shall dawn in the darkness, And your darkness shall be as the noonday. 11 The Lord will guide you continually, And satisfy your soul in drought, And strengthen your bones; You shall be like a watered garden, And like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. 12 Those from among you Shall build the old waste places; You shall raise up the foundations of many generations; And you shall be called the Repairer of the Breach, The Restorer of Streets to Dwell In. 13 “If you turn away your foot from the Sabbath, From doing your pleasure on My holy day, And call the Sabbath a delight, The holy day of the Lord honorable, And shall honor Him, not doing your own ways, Nor finding your own pleasure, Nor speaking your own words, 14 Then you shall delight yourself in the Lord; And I will cause you to ride on the high hills of the earth, And feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father. The mouth of the Lord has spoken.” Separated from God 59 Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, That it cannot save; Nor His ear heavy, That it cannot hear. 2 But your iniquities have separated you from your God; And your sins have hidden His face from you, So that He will not hear. 3 For your hands are defiled with blood, And your fingers with iniquity; Your lips have spoken lies, Your tongue has muttered perversity. 4 No one calls for justice, Nor does any plead for truth. They trust in empty words and speak lies; They conceive evil and bring forth iniquity. 5 They hatch vipers' eggs and weave the spider's web; He who eats of their eggs dies, And from that which is crushed a viper breaks out. 6 Their webs will not become garments, Nor will they cover themselves with their works; Their works are works of iniquity, And the act of violence is in their hands. 7 Their feet run to evil, And they make haste to shed innocent blood; Their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; Wasting and destruction are in their paths. 8 The way of peace they have not known, And there is no justice in their ways; They have made themselves crooked paths; Whoever takes that way shall not know peace. Sin Confessed 9 Therefore justice is far from us, Nor does righteousness overtake us; We look for light, but there is darkness! For brightness, but we walk in blackness! 10 We grope for the wall like the blind, And we grope as if we had no eyes; We stumble at noonday as at twilight; We are as dead men in desolate places. 11 We all growl like bears, And moan sadly like doves; We look for justice, but there is none; For salvation, but it is far from us. 12 For our transgressions are multiplied before You, And our sins testify against us; For our transgressions are with us, And as for our iniquities, we know them: 13 In transgressing and lying against the Lord, And departing from our God, Speaking oppression and revolt, Conceiving and uttering from the heart words of falsehood. 14 Justice is turned back, And righteousness stands afar off; For truth is fallen in the street, And equity cannot enter. 15 So truth fails, And he who departs from evil makes himself a prey. The Redeemer of Zion Then the Lord saw it, and it displeased Him That there was no justice. 16 He saw that there was no man, And wondered that there was no intercessor; Therefore His own arm brought salvation for Him; And His own righteousness, it sustained Him. 17 For He put on righteousness as a breastplate, And a helmet of salvation on His head; He put on the garments of vengeance for clothing, And was clad with zeal as a cloak. 18 According to their deeds, accordingly He will repay, Fury to His adversaries, Recompense to His enemies; The coastlands He will fully repay. 19 So shall they fear The name of the Lord from the west, And His glory from the rising of the sun; When the enemy comes in like a flood, The Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him. 20 “The Redeemer will come to Zion, And to those who turn from transgression in Jacob,” Says the Lord. 21 “As for Me,” says the Lord, “this is My covenant with them: My Spirit who is upon you, and My words which I have put in your mouth, shall not depart from your mouth, nor from the mouth of your descendants, nor from the mouth of your descendants' descendants,” says the Lord, “from this time and forevermore.” The Gentiles Bless Zion 60 Arise, shine; For your light has come! And the glory of the Lord is risen upon you. 2 For behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, And deep darkness the people; But the Lord will arise over you, And His glory will be seen upon you. 3 The Gentiles shall come to your light, And kings to the brightness of your rising. 4 “Lift up your eyes all around, and see: They all gather together, they come to you; Your sons shall come from afar, And your daughters shall be nursed at your side. 5 Then you shall see and become radiant, And your heart shall swell with joy; Because the abundance of the sea shall be turned to you, The wealth of the Gentiles shall come to you. 6 The multitude of camels shall cover your land, The dromedaries of Midian and Ephah; All those from Sheba shall come; They shall bring gold and incense, And they shall proclaim the praises of the Lord. 7 All the flocks of Kedar shall be gathered together to you, The rams of Nebaioth shall minister to you; They shall ascend with acceptance on My altar, And I will glorify the house of My glory. 8 “Who are these who fly like a cloud, And like doves to their roosts? 9 Surely the coastlands shall wait for Me; And the ships of Tarshish will come first, To bring your sons from afar, Their silver and their gold with them, To the name of the Lord your God, And to the Holy One of Israel, Because He has glorified you. 10 “The sons of foreigners shall build up your walls, And their kings shall minister to you; For in My wrath I struck you, But in My favor I have had mercy on you. 11 Therefore your gates shall be open continually; They shall not be shut day or night, That men may bring to you the wealth of the Gentiles, And their kings in procession. 12 For the nation and kingdom which will not serve you shall perish, And those nations shall be utterly ruined. 13 “The glory of Lebanon shall come to you, The cypress, the pine, and the box tree together, To beautify the place of My sanctuary; And I will make the place of My feet glorious. 14 Also the sons of those who afflicted you Shall come bowing to you, And all those who despised you shall fall prostrate at the soles of your feet; And they shall call you The City of the Lord, Zion of the Holy One of Israel. 15 “Whereas you have been forsaken and hated, So that no one went through you, I will make you an eternal excellence, A joy of many generations. 16 You shall drink the milk of the Gentiles, And milk the breast of kings; You shall know that I, the Lord, am your Savior And your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob. 17 “Instead of bronze I will bring gold, Instead of iron I will bring silver, Instead of wood, bronze, And instead of stones, iron. I will also make your officers peace, And your magistrates righteousness. 18 Violence shall no longer be heard in your land, Neither wasting nor destruction within your borders; But you shall call your walls Salvation, And your gates Praise. God the Glory of His People 19 “The sun shall no longer be your light by day, Nor for brightness shall the moon give light to you; But the Lord will be to you an everlasting light, And your God your glory. 20 Your sun shall no longer go down, Nor shall your moon withdraw itself; For the Lord will be your everlasting light, And the days of your mourning shall be ended. 21 Also your people shall all be righteous; They shall inherit the land forever, The branch of My planting, The work of My hands, That I may be glorified. 22 A little one shall become a thousand, And a small one a strong nation. I, the Lord, will hasten it in its time.”   Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0SN3ReRgpA   Duration 43:04

Wilson comes on the podcast to talk about all the films he saw at the 49th edition of the Hong Kong International Film Festival. Come listen to us talk about the newest films from around the world, including Wang Bing's Youth Trilogy, Lav Diaz's Phantosmia, Andrea Arnold's Bird, and many more. Join our FREE patreon, discord server, and our socials @ www.deepcutpod.comTimestamps:00:00:00 Intro00:03:17 Festival as a whole00:08:44 Baby00:10:25 Youth Trilogy00:15:47 Bel Ami00:17:50 Drug War00:20:09 Bird00:21:54 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre00:24:46 Man's Castle00:27:58 Việt and Nam 00:31:24 Yalla Parkour00:36:09 Harvest00:38:55 Never Too Late00:40:04 Fire of Wind00:42:15 To Kill a Mongolian Horse00:44:10 Santosh00:45:41 I'm Still Here00:49:21 Bona00:53:08 Dreams (Sex Love)00:56:40 Misericordia00:58:38 The Botanist01:00:17 Seeds 01:02:05 Blue Sun Palace 01:04:58 On Becoming a Guinea Fowl01:06:22 Separated 01:09:04 Phantosmia 01:13:15 Outro

Hi, everyone! We're so glad you've joined us here at Gateway Church today. We've got a message straight from God's word for you. So, grab a coffee, sit back and enjoy some time learning from our Pastor.

Hi, everyone! We're so glad you've joined us here at Gateway Church today. We've got a message straight from God's word for you. So, grab a coffee, sit back and enjoy some time learning from our Pastor.

“Oh, how did we get here!?” That's what the staff of the Little Snail Food Truck might be wondering. After all, just a week ago, they were living the good life: traveling from town to town, seeing the sights, and serving delicious, memory-making meals. Now where are they? The depths (or heights?) of a ruined Dragon Tower? Separated in the dark? Confounded by its hallways and stairwells? Was this what people meant when they said ‘adventure'? This week on Perpetua: The Shadow of the Dragon Tower Pt. 3 Perpetua Guide [In Progress v.01] Dragon Tower Map (IN PROGRESS) [PMDT] I'm going to try to save most of the maps until I get the text done, but I wanted to put at least this starter one in so I could start getting feedback. (Dotted lines are secret hallways/doors.) There are 10 rooms in the Dragon Tower dungeon, eight main ones and two secret side rooms.  Entry Hall [DTEH] You obviously can't skip the first room of the dungeon, but it's pretty straight forward. There's an optional boss fight here (see [NMCH]), and you can get some lore about what happened here. I think it's connected to the events from the Prelude (this is the same tower, if you didn't notice) but I'm not 100% sure yet. Downward Stairwell [DTDS] Technically this is an upward stairwell that goes downward, but whatever, that's what it says it's called on the save game file. This is again pretty straight forward, so I won't bother spelling out which platforms and stairs to jump between Squire Training Hall [DTTH] There's a chance to encounter a Dragon Squire here, but depending on how you enter, it's normally just filled with little bits of loot and some clues for solving puzzles (both in the dungeon and later in the game, from what I can tell).  Scryer Library [DTSL] There are a bunch of books you can interact with here to get some lore about the world, though a few of them are written in weird runes. You can also aggro a Scryer here. She's not as tough as Chelik, but can still give early parties some trouble, so be careful!. Magic characters can find some early gear upgrades here. Plus, check the eastern wall for a secret passageway to… Magic Pantry [DTMP] This is sort of a “rest stop” or “check point” in the dungeon. Everyone gets +1 IP and chefs can find rare ingredients. It's a bit of a schlep to get here if you chose the western route through the dungeon, but definitely worth it! Observation Deck [DTOD] Some more jumping puzzles, one of which has a kind of brutal timer. But there's potentially a really interesting cutscene with BIG implications here. I'll leave you to see if you can figure it out. Flaming Tunnel Tunnel [DTFT] Trying to pass through this place without having at LEAST fire resistance on your whole party is extremely risky. I haven't figured out how to get through here without taking any damage, so I much prefer going through the Observation Deck to get to the final part of the dungeon. BUT you can get access to the Squire Armory through here. Squire Armory [DTSA] There is a real tough physical enemy type in here (I'll post the stats on them later), and it shouldn't be too hard—at least if you're not facing it alone. But make sure to heal up before you come in, and be extra careful about dragging in mobs from elsewhere in the dungeon. Make sure to poke around this place for some gear upgrades for your melee damage dealers! Shimmering Ruins [DTSR] You'll find out first hand what the “shimmering” in this room is via a cutscene when you first enter it. My advice is that if you don't have someone with very high Insight or some Tinker abilities, do not try to interact with the objects. Eternal Flame [DTEF] This is technically the end of the dungeon (though you can obviously still explore if you want to). I won't get too deep into spoilers, but there's a cutscene that will play when you get here, AND (thanks to DragonFang86 on the forum) we know that if you rush to the end quickly, you can actually get an early encounter with one of the villains that's all over all the ads for the game! I bet you could even fight her, if you move fast enough, but no one's done it yet. Hosted by Austin Walker (austinwalker.bsky.social) FeaturingAli Acampora (ali-online.bsky.social), Art Martinez-Tebbel (amtebbel.bsky.social), Jack de Quidt (notquitereal.bsky.social), and Andrew Lee Swan (swandre3000.bsky.social) Produced by Ali Acampora Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Cover Art by Ben McEntee (https://linktr.ee/benmce.art) With thanks to Amelia Renee, Arthur B., Aster Maragos, Bill Kaszubski, Cassie Jones, Clark, DB, Daniel Laloggia, Diana Crowley, Edwin Adelsberger, Emrys, Greg Cobb, Ian O'Dea, Ian Urbina, Irina A., Jack Shirai, Jake Strang, Katie Diekhaus, Ken George, Konisforce, Kristina Harris Esq, L Tantivy, Lawson Coleman, Mark Conner, Mike & Ruby, Muna A, Nat Knight, Olive Perry, Quinn Pollock, Robert Lasica, Shawn Drape, Shawn Hall, Summer Rose, TeganEden, Thomas Whitney, Voi, chocoube, deepFlaw, fen, & weakmint This episode was made with support from listeners like you! To support us, you can go to friendsatthetable.cash.  

Matt Spiegel and Laurence Holmes reacted to Chicago mayor Brandon Johnson distancing himself from the Bears' stadium pursuit at the same time the organization announced its focus is on Arlington Heights.

Watch on Philo! - Philo.tv/DTHIt's a lawless time, y'all. Organized crime syndicates are running a muck since the fall of the Galactic Republic, forcing others to fight for survival. On the industrial ship-building planet Corellia, Lady Proxima, leader of the White Worms gang, is after a hyperfuel known as coaxium. That's when we meet Han. He is trying to escape Corellia for good. He feels confident he can do that after getting his hands on some coaxium.  His girlfriend Qi'ra is pumped. But as they go to escape, they are found by some of Proxima's baddies and are taken to her. He's like oh I don't have an coaxium, but what i do have is THIS! He pulls out a rock and throws it through a window which lets in light which Proximia and her species are allergic to and they escape! But it does take long for them to catch up with him and a chase ensues. They bribe an Imperial officer at a spaceport for passage off-world. Han makes it through, but Qi'ra is captured at the last moment. Separated by a security gate, Han promises to return for her.Alone and desperate, Han enlists in the Imperial Navy. When asked for his surname, he's called “Solo” since he claims to have no family. Fast forward three years, Han has been expelled from flight school for acting a fool and is now down in the mud of a battle. There, he encounters a group of thieves disguised as soldiers—Tobias Beckett, Val, and Rio. When Han tries to blackmail his way into their crew, Beckett has him arrested and thrown into a pit with a deadly creature: a Wookiee named Chewbacca.Han and Chewbacca form a quick alliance, escaping together and convincing Beckett to take them in. Realizing Chewbacca's brute strength is valuable, Beckett agrees. The crew sets off for their next job—stealing coaxium from a moving train. The heist goes sideways when they're ambushed by a gang of pirates. Rio is fatally shot, Val sacrifices herself, and the coaxium is lost in the chaos.Beckett reveals they were working for Dryden Vos, a high-ranking figure in the Crimson Dawn crime syndicate, and now owe him. To make amends, Han and Chewbacca offer to help steal unrefined coaxium from the mines on Kessel. Beckett agrees and takes them to Dryden's luxurious yacht, where Han reunites with Qi'ra—now a high-ranking lieutenant.Vos approves the plan but insists Qi'ra accompany them. She leads them to the suave smuggler Lando Calrissian, hoping to use his ship, the Millennium Falcon. Han loses a rigged card game to Lando but convinces him to join the mission in exchange for a cut. With Lando's droid co-pilot L3-37 onboard, the team sets off.On Kessel, L3 sparks a riot among droid slaves, while Chewbacca breaks off to free Wookiee prisoners. The team escapes with the coaxium, but L3 is destroyed and Lando is injured. Using L3's navigational system, Han pilots the Falcon. Han hatches a plan to outsmart Dryden Vos. It's a classic double cross station. When they meet again, Dryden exposes Beckett as his informant. But Han had anticipated the betrayal—the coaxium given to Vos is real, and the fake decoy was a bluff.Beckett takes Chewbacca and the coaxium hostage, but Han later confronts and shoots him before he can retaliate. Meanwhile, Qi'ra kills Dryden Vos but secretly contacts her true boss: Darth Maul. She takes Vos's ship and leaves, choosing to embrace her role.Han tracks down Lando and challenges him to a rematch in cards. This time, Han wins, gaining ownership of the Millennium Falcon.With Chewbacca by his side, Han sets off for Tatooine, following a tip about a powerful gangster—Jabba the Hutt—looking for smugglers for a big job.

Separated at a pivotal moment of the mystery, our investigators will need to act fast if they want to save anyone else from the horrors taking root in the Clawsden Highrises. Themes and Topics Covered: DeathThreats of Violence/DeathArsonOrganised CrimeMissing ChildrenMusophobia Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Micah Klutinoty in Week 4 of the Set Free series Romans 8:31-39 powerfully proclaims that nothing can separate us from the eternal love of God in Christ Jesus. Throughout this message, we are continually reminded of the unshakable security we as believers have in Christ, grounded in God's unwavering love and sovereign power. Through Christ's death, resurrection, and continual intercession, we are more than conquerors—fully assured that nothing in all creation can separate us from His love.

Send us a textWe are all under the same Sun. From Praia to Lagos, so much remains the same. It's always fascinated me how much, from Nigeria to Barbados to Jamaica to Angola to Guinea to Mozambique to Haiti to Senegal to Cape Verde, felt like a simulation. All these black men with the same disposition and mannerisms and bluetooths hanging out of their ear. I can't describe to you how funny all these cultures collectively are to me. Separated but you can't hide the roots. But are real conversations actually happening? Are these black men saying, “I'm going through it right now, I'm really struggling with ____”? Not so much that I've seen. We have to give people permission to be themselves sometimes. To say, “you can say how you actually feel and still be manly.” I guess that's one of my missions here. Anyway, Tomi & I sat down to put it on the line & air some dirty laundry. “You can't ruin a true connection by saying how you feel.” I believe that to my core. “The Brothers” (2001) served as the inspo for this one here, hope you enjoy. -WV 

Bible Discussion: When praying for marriage restoration after separation or divorce, begin by asking if it's God's will—don't stand in faith without His direction. Consider if your ex-spouse is available or entangled in another relationship, and ask God if their absence is actually His protection. Be prepared for others not to support your decision to believe for restoration, and commit to the journey regardless of the outcome. Focus less on changing your ex and more on becoming someone they could return to. Forgive fully, and pray for their spiritual growth—not just the return of the marriage, but true healing and transformation. Partner with Us: https://churchforentrepreneurs.com/partner Connect with Us: https://churchforentrepreneurs.com                  

Matt Verderame and Tucker Franklin look at the other drafts from AFC contenders and discuss how the Chiefs separated themselves from the rest of the pack. —

This is a heart-wrenching and mystical story about a young man's unbreakable connection with a sister he never knew. Separated by time and life, yet united by love, the young man is visited by his stillborn sister, Serenity, 18 years after her tragic loss. Through a series of spiritual encounters and strange events, Serenity's spirit makes herself known to her brother, offering comfort and answers to questions left unanswered for years.    If you have a real ghost story or supernatural event to report, please write into our show at http://www.realghoststoriesonline.com/ or call 1-855-853-4802! Want AD-FREE & ADVANCE RELEASE EPISODES? Become a Premium Subscriber Through Apple Podcasts now!!! https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/real-ghost-stories-online/id880791662?mt=2&uo=4&ls=1 Or Patreon: http://www.patreon.com/realghoststories Or Our Website: http://www.ghostpodcast.com/?page_id=118 

One episode in, and The Valley is predictably a s**tshow. Jax is more violent than ever, Jesse and Michelle hate each other, and Kristen… well, she's just happy she can tell a few people “TOLD YOU SO.” You can watch this recap on video, listen to our White Lotus Recaps, and participate in live episode threads at patreon.com/watchwhatcrappens. Tickets for our North American tour on sale at watchwhatcrappens.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.