Planet Ezzie (19. Survivor guilt)

5 of SWORDS. Defeat.

Conflict, disagreements, competition, defeat, winning at all costs.

An ominous card for today, and I’m not sure how it related to my day. I’m back home now. Although the disaster zone is still clumsy … closed, the periphery has been cleared for traffic. I could tell when I arrived home that my power had been out at least once. As today was my off day, I went out for supplies. My usual grocery store was in the zone, but still standing, so I had to find my food elsewhere. On the way home, I donated some canned goods to a local food pantry for the disaster victims.

Tommy’s liaison … um, lesson was today. Although he seemed untouched by the disaster, Thaddeus had come to live with them. While his home wasn’t completely demolished, a roof joist had pierced the wall of his living room and all the windows had exploded. Two holes in the roof had been tarped over, but had let in a significant amount of water during the storm. An insurance adjuster is supposed to have a look tomorrow to decide what the best course of action was.

My bedtime wander took me to prison … out onto the patio where Thaddeus sat waiting.

“Hey, beautiful!” he greeted.

“Hey, yourself,” I replied. His soul was definitely more beautiful than the flesh. “Have you had a look from above?” I asked.

“No. I don’t fly much,” he answered. “I prefer to keep myself on the ground, in a human shape. I take it that you have learned to fly?”

“Not so much as learning. I just did it by accident. I couldn’t see the tornado, so I was suddenly up in the air over the treetops where I could see it. It was strange, as if I had been yanked out of my body so I could witness it, and see the two departed souls as they passed to the next world.”

“That’s possible, I suppose.”

“Who would have done it?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “There are beings even more ancient than us who step in to teach us things we urgently need to know, to prepare us for our future. My guess is that it is important for you to learn to fly quickly, and to learn what happens after death.”

“I’m not sure I understood what I saw. What did you mean by in a human shape?”

“When you do certain things, like fly, you don’t hold your shape as well. You become more like a plasma blob. You might recognize yourself, but others may not. I don’t like the feeling afterwards, as if I need to re-acquaint myself with my body.”

“My soul was soaking wet, and I felt like I was swimming inside my body later. And I felt very depressed about what I witnessed.”

“The swimming I understand. The depression was probably just your normal human reaction. Have you flown since?”

“Once. The depression was still there, but I have to admit to a certain amount of exhilaration, being up in the air and not being completely terrified. I’m normally scared of heights.”

“And when you returned to your body?”

“A little like being blended in a blender, but in a good way.”

“How could it be a good way?” he laughed.

“It was like my soul was so happy to find each individual familiar cell of my body. It was almost a post-coital feeling.”

“I didn’t need to hear that. Be careful not to fly too far away, for too long, or too often. I’m sure your demon is taking the opportunity to find your body’s weakness while you are out.”

“Does she have that much control? Why can’t I see her like I can see you?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t know if she can see you in this state, but she can sense when your soul is outside your body.”


“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m going for a swim, now, but you should get back.”

“A swim?”

“I’m normally terrified of water, but my soul isn’t. Just like your fear of flying, I want to take advantage of it when I can.”

Although he ran off to the pool, I stayed in the playpen … err, on the patio. As I’ve said before, I don’t have much control over when I return to my body. I sat and waited for about a half hour, then I saw Tommy look out his bedroom window. Almost the next instant, I was back in my body, in bed tapping at the computer.

Yes, my body was tapping at the computer, recording my conversation with Thaddeus, as if it was important that I remembered it verbatim. Nothing was Earth-shattering, except that I didn’t stagger … stutter at all. Is that what I was supposed to remember? I’ve had to insert the context retroactively.

Why did Tommy look out the window?


Planet Ezzie (18. The Aftermath)


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MAGUS. The true self and the true will. Skill, wisdom, adroitness, elasticity, craft, cunning, deceit, theft. Sometimes occult wisdom or power, sometimes a quick impulse, a brain-wave. It may imply messages, business transactions, the interference of learning or intelligence with the matter in hand.

The first card I drew today was Interference, which is the same as I drew yesterday. It is fitting that there is some interference in my second draw, the interference of learning or intelligence.

No, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I wandered outside of my body inside the house, afraid to go outside, until the phone rang around 8 am. They changed the repertoire for tonight’s concert, considering the disaster. We would begin with the Adagio for Strings in mourning for the two dead and the many left homeless. It meant I wasn’t needed for the morning.

Even Beatrice feared the tornado. She was hiding somewhere – nearby, but not interfering with my depression.

My long term realtors, um, disciples, …err, readers will know that I grew up in the UK and have never witnessed the full fury of a tornado. I was caught up in a micro-burst several years ago, but the damage was tiny in comparison, just a few trees down. I was a hankey … hunkered down in London during the Blitz … (yikes, I’m not that old!) … “Great Storm of 1987”, but that damage was more diffuse. (Technically, it was an extra-tropical cyclone according to Wikipedia, equal in strength to a CAT 1 hurricane.)

A tornado in middle-America takes no prisoners, flattening whatever it traverses. I have a friend whose family had a very near miss. He said looking out the front door was like a moonscape, with nothing left standing as far as he could see. As close as they were, his parents had to leave their house for 6 months while it was repaired.

The phone rang on and off all morning, mostly family checking in from England to make sure I was OK, as well as a few acquaintances who knew I lived close to the disaster zone.

When I left for rehearsal today, I discovered what happens in the aftermath. The periphery is closed while the gas supplier isolates the area, survivors are evacuated, many on foot, since the roads are mostly blocked by trees and debris. There are shards of glass and nails absolutely everywhere, mostly in the zone, but tracked out by fleeing vehicles, and you can smell the gas and sewage. They won’t start moving debris until later, after trapped survivors have been rescued. Residents won’t be let back in until it is safe, and only for a few hours at a time to survey their damage and collect valuable property, if it is still there.

There was a long traffic jam around the affected area, which gave me a short time to do an aerial survey. I was afraid to set down as I didn’t know whether my spirit feet would be cut by the glass. I had felt the hail, so I wanted to be careful. As far as flying was concerned, I discovered that the was the desire to be up in the air was enough to get me up there (while my body daydreamed in my stationary car). There were still some people wandering around in the zone, as well as a number of rescue vehicles freeing people from their basements. Many of the houses were completely off their foundations. The police were mostly guarding the perimeter from looters, and for safety.

After that, I really don’t remember much of my rehearsal, nor my concert. I decided to stay in the city overnight. Hence, I’m tapping away at my laptop in a giant king-sized bed overlooking St. Louis from an 8th floor suite. I hadn’t thought to bring an overnight bag, so my underwear is drying in the bathtub. Hopefully, there aren’t any drones peeking in my windows.

By the way, have I ever told you I’m mildly asymmetric, asymptomatic, … um, acrophobic? You won’t catch me close to those floor-to-ceiling windows, even fully dressed, however, my spirit-self seems remarkably immune.

Planet Ezzie (17. Flight)


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8 of CUPS. Interference. (inverted)

Trying one more time, indecision, aimless drifting, walking away.

Ever since I posted my previous poo … prost … err, post, I have been receiving loads of messages of support. Well, you may call it that. Several have said that if I am indeed Gaia, I should be more powerful than Beatrice anyway, and should let the henna fade, and duke it out once and for all.

I can see clearly now … err, stars … um, several problems with that. If I am Gaia (which I’m not, except in name), I have forgotten my power and need to relearn it in each lifetime. There is no sense doing battle before I have all my weapons, which I may never have. Right now, Beatrice is more powerful, and I must live with that.

Even today’s card is indecisive. I should walk away now.

Save myself.

Given yesterday’s revelations, Evie wants to add a few more scribbles, dribbles, baubles, … um, symbols to my henna arsenal. I’m starting to wonder where. We are running out of places. There might be room on my butt cheeks. I fear that she will want to put them somewhere visible. Yes, something must be visible, but so far that has been discreet. A small diamond at my hairline, or a tiny star in my cleavage. This one may be ridiculous, err, radical. She’s cunning, cumming … eek, coming tomorrow.

I fell asleep briefly after I arrived home from my gig tonight. I had a full-bore, kinky, wild, sweaty, sex dream. Beatrice has asserted herself, and Tommy was nowhere to protect me. (He may have been asleep.) I awoke drenched in sweat and horny as hell. My breasts seem extra-sensitive tonight, and if somebody touched them, they wouldn’t know what hit them. Beatrice, you b-, bit-, … BITCH!

Fuck. She made me spontaneously orgasm, just to demonstrate her strength. Now I’m even more horny.

Back to my emails for distraction … a few of them blamed me for creating such a horrible world. If I did, I apologize. I’ll let you try the next one. Let’s see how that goes. Others? Well, they just want to be near me perhaps to “help unlock my power”. Frankly, if I’m an ancient spirit, I should know how to do it better than you. Don’t you think? There must be a reason why Thaddeus and Tommy won’t help in that regard. Might they fear what I can do when unleashed? I created all the things on Earth, didn’t I?


Part of me believes that is all poop … poppycock.

That was weird. It just started raining heavily. I mean really heavily, with wind, thunder, lightning, and hail. I thought there might be tornadoes nearby.

… Without warning, I blinked onto the roof. I could hear a tornado, but I couldn’t see it.

I flew.

Only for a few minutes, but long enough to hover high enough to see a large tornado destroying a path about a quarter of a mile wide just east of my house, fortunately heading away. Only then did the sirens begin wailing. I was drenched and pelted by hail. I watched the carnage from above the treetops at a safe distance, only returning to my roof after the tornado had receded back into the clouds.

My spirit didn’t want to return to my body yet. The flashing lights of the first-responders lit up the sky as the rain let up. Did I see other spirits floating above the debris? Two, possibly: maybe a child and an elderly woman. Was that what I was meant to see?

After about 30 minutes more, I was back in front of my computer. My spirit still felt soaking wet, while my body was dry. It was an odd feeling, like I was swimming inside myself. My first flight should have been exhilarating. Instead, it was horrific.

I knew what the spirits signified: two casualties.

I think it is time to put my laptop away and go to bed. I hope you sleep. I won’t.

Planet Ezzie (16. Gaia)


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PRINCE of WANDS (reversed)

Could represent a turning point when things have been going badly, or cruelty, arrogance, self-importance, unnecessary drama, haste and recklessness.

Although the first definition is for upright, it could be true, but to a lesser degree, there could also be honesty in there, and integrity. I’m hoping that is the case.

After meeting Thaddeus, I did a little research. Gaia is the Earth mother, creator of all things, mother of the Titans, who incidentally sired Zeus. That would mean that I was Thaddeus’ grandmother. That would be idiotic … ironic, not just through his age, but through his knowledge and experience. Gaia is also supposed to be large-breasted and voluptuous. That is something that I have never been accused of, although my current enhancement is the closest I’ve been, thanks to Beatrice.

There, I’ve mentioned her name again. Thaddeus said he didn’t need protection (from her, presumably). Neither, does Tommy, who is signalling me at this very moment. Someone is with him, but I can’t see who it is. BRB.

Speak of the devil, Thaddeus is Tommy’s grandfather, and he was babysitting, which meant I saw him fully-clothed for the first time. He doesn’t seem as “beautiful” in the flesh, but that didn’t matter. Tommy let him do the most of the talking.

Thaddeus explained our connections, going on at length about transitory and migrant souls and the history of the universe. Sitting outside late on a warm night, I zoned out and found myself sitting on his side of the fence.

“Pay attention!” he chided. “There’s a minor present.”

“Who can see her naked anyway, even with my eyes closed,” Tommy interrupted.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Thaddeus explained.

I supposed I could have returned to my body then, but I didn’t (I don’t have that kind of control over it), so Thaddeus continued, “As I was saying, we are three ancient souls, who are attracted in each life to one another. You and I are often lovers. You and young Thomas are often related – you are his mother, daughter, sister, etc.”

“We aren’t related now, are we?” I asked.

“Well, yes we are, especially you and I.”

“Your spirit was my first wife, Akira, who died in childbirth at the age of 18. Your daughter – your spirit-daughter – is Tommy’s mother, a transitory soul, so we don’t have a spiritual connection with her, but that makes Tommy your spirit-grandson. Incidentally, Thomas is also your spirit-grandfather, and was seduced by Beatrice. That is one of the reasons he made himself known to you, and why he wants to protect you.”

I considered the ramifications of that, but the only question I could spit out was, “Was I Japanese?”

“Mixed race, so her/your spirit-parents avoided the internment camps. Tommy obviously takes more after his father, as did his mother after her father, i.e. me. Our souls, on the other hand migrated to Earth before the first real humans. You are the eldest of us, then Thomas, and then me. Bearing the name Gaia, you are not far off from the truth. My nickname reveals a hint to our relative relationship, too, although I’m not Zeus and you aren’t Gaia.”

“Do I have a name?” I asked, stupidly.

“All three of us existed before names. We have always taken the names of our human hosts.”

“Why do I not remember any of this?”

“Long ago, you chose not to remember your serial lives. You may come to remember yourself as a primordial entity at some point during this life, but that rarely happens. That explains why your many gifts are blind. You must discover them anew in each life.” He looked at his watch. “Tommy’s parents will be home shortly. We should go back inside.”

Reaching down, he took my hand and pulled me up. His embrace was long and heartfelt. As I towered over him, I felt the moisture of his tears against my breast. As Akira, I was his beloved of this life, as well as his beloved of all time. Tommy held my hand briefly before they went inside.

I walked right through the fence and sat on the back porch for over an hour before snapping back into my own body.

Beatrice watched silently, taking it all in, perhaps hoping to find a vulnerability. Tommy, as my spirit-grandfather, was certainly vulnerable to her at my mother’s conception.

Even now she hangs back, while I am processing.

There is a lot to process.

Planet Ezzie (15. Bench of Spirits)


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PRINCE of Swords

An intellectual man, well-educated and private, with a rapid-fire mind. Someone who doesn’t let others in easily.

Ooh, mistake today. I decided to go to the pool today, but went on walkabout while I was packing my stuff. Why did I go to the pool? I decided that I needed to be around people, but not from work. The henna on my arms and legs would attract attention, but while my body was on autopilot, it put my black bikini in the bag instead of a demur one-piece. My balk, balls, … err, black bikini doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

I noticed in the changing room, but I decided to swim anyway. So basically, all the places that I had carefully hidden the henna tattoos (well, almost all!) were visible.

Everyone stared at me, but only one person spoke to me, and I wished he hadn’t. He reminded me of Allen in too many ways. At least he didn’t fuck, pluck, … snap my straps. He was a bible-basher, and told me off, both for my indecent bikini, as well as my tattoos, which he considered vile and heretical. He was the manager of the leisure center. Fortunately, I had finished my laps first.

I dismembered him, … um, canceled my membership. (I would have liked to dismember him, actually.)

It was a warm evening, so I sat on the back porch sleeping/reading/daydreaming, and yes, I found myself out on the prowl. I decided to stretch my metaphysical legs, perhaps to see how far I could go. It was interesting that once I was out of sight from my body, I could still see it, much the way I think Tommy can see me at all times.

After I had walked a block, I found a little man sitting on a bench by the corner.

“Lovely evening,” he said. When I called him a little man, I didn’t mean like a gnome or anything silly. He was a small wiry man, probably in his 70’s, with a beard and gray hair. I don’t know how to say this any other way, but he was beautiful, while not being particularly handsome.

And he was completely naked.

“Yes it is,” I replied, trying to be casual.

“Have a seat, beautiful,” he said, patting the bench next to him. That was why I had to use the word beautiful to describe him.

“That’s a little forward,” I said, but I sat down next to him anyway.

His cock … ugh, … He cocked his head and shrugged, “It’s true. Why not say it? Nobody else can hear us. Is this your first time?”

“No, but I’ve only been doing this for a week or so.”

“We have lots to discuss,” he said, but didn’t continue.

“And that is what?” I asked.

“We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. We can’t discuss the mysteries of the universe and not know each other’s names.”

“I’m Ezzie,” I replied.

“No you aren’t,” he said.

“I’m Gaia Esmeralda Dryer.”

“That’s better. I like that name – your mythological connection. I’m Thaddeus Whitworth Jones.”

“Thad Jones?”

He laughed. “Not the jazz musician. I’m usually called Thaddeus, although in school, I was called Zeus.”

“Ironically, I suspect.”

“Of course.”

“Can I fly?” I asked, jumping right in with my questions.

“You can do anything you want to,” he replied. “It just takes practice. You have to be careful, though. You don’t want to abandon your body too long. You, especially.”


“You leave it vulnerable to the demon that follows it.”

“But it is protected.”

“I know,” he answered. “You can’t know how strong the protection is until it is breached. The further you are away from it, the weaker the protection.”

“How far is too far?”

“Only you can know that. My body needs no protection, but at my age, leaving it too long makes it vulnerable to dying. That is why we can’t talk now. We will meet again soon, perhaps in the flesh, perhaps not. Did I tell you you were beautiful? Why, yes I did. You are, you know.”

“You are, too,” I replied.

He chuckled.

“When will I see you again?”

“I’ll come find you. Don’t worry. I’d better go.”

And he was gone. And so was I, back in my body. Poof!

Lots to think about.

Planet Ezzie (14. Observational reality)


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PRINCESS of WANDS. Promising energy, action, and progress. Overcoming fear that binds us to bad habits.

Or at least that is how I am reading it today.

Tommy seems to have blurred the connection between my body and my soul. That is a little unsettling, but my soul is free from the curse, whereas my bloody, … err, body isn’t. So, what does that mean?

I went walkabout during rehearsal this morning. While my body was playing third horn in a Brahms symphony, I realized I was sitting in the hall listening. Who is that awesome 3rd horn player? Oh, it’s me! Isn’t she a beauty?

Well, she was. She didn’t have the perfection of my soul (is my soul perfect?), but she looked like a young 24-year-old newly-graduated from the conservatory. That’s right. You haven’t forgotten. I’m 50-something now. The succ-, succu-, … bus (you know, her) has destroyed my biological clock, so she can attract a man.

It is amazing that my body was still functioning on a certain level while I was abhorrent, absolutely, … um, absent.

Since my post the other night, I’ve received several emails from fuck-buddies, … um, friends, acquaintances, devotees, and other blog readers. (For the record, none of my former fuck-buddies responded.) Anyway, I’ve received much advice on how to control my out-of-body experiences, or recreate them, or whatever. I’ve tried some of the advice, but I’ve decided they are all wrong. It seems I have been outside of my body on a regular basis. I just hadn’t thought to notice it before. When my mind wanders, my soul wanders … and my “mind” wanders a great deal. To complicate things, my soul can see my body, but my body can’t see my soul – if that is what it indeed is.

Tommy said that some can see it, but most can’t. To my knowledge, he is the only one, so far, which is a good thing, since my soul can’t take my clothes with it, and if someone had seen me sitting in the middle of the hall naked, that wouldn’t have been a good thing.

I can’t actively cause it to happen. There might be some strategy to make it happen, but I haven’t found it yet.

What happens if I find somebody else wandering when I’m on my travels? I guess I’ll deal with it when it happens. Thus far, or at least since my midnight romp, err, rendezvous with Tommy, I haven’t traveled far from my body, at least not so far that I can’t see it. Dare I fry, spy, … um, try?

So Tommy can see my soul, as well as my henna cage. Does he see them separate when I am separate?

I should also say that this morning’s rehearsal wasn’t the only time. I wandered during an evening run yesterday. That might be the best way to run. The soul flies while the body runs, not literally, but I wonder. Can it fly? If so, how do I make that happen?

I have so many new dresses, boyfriends, … er, questions, but I’m beginning to comprehend things – my life – my existence – just a little bit better.

Planet Ezzie (13. The Turn of the Tide?)

8 of DISKS. Prudence.

It implies the skillful manipulation of physical material, with prudent thoughts and wisdom coordinating them. Apparently, it can mark the turn of the tide.

I don’t know how that helps me. My problems are on the spiritual plane. I have a ss- … suc- … one of those beings clinging onto me in spirit form and a neighbor boy who can see my only defense against said spiritual creature, and therefore see all of me, i.e. naked, at all times. He says my henna glows various colors, depending on my emotions. We still haven’t discussed which colors mean what.

I gave Tommy a hand- … no, a ki- … it will come eventually … a hug … erg, a lesson today. While his mother was answering the telephone, he told me I was a unicorn. His mother was off the phone quickly, so we were back to work before he could explain himself, and I was soon back home with my head in a vice … um, spin. What aspect of me is a unicorn? I’m not virginous – quite the opposite. Did he mean I was rare or unique?

I have learned not to question him too much. He has an ancient head on pubescent shoulders.

An interesting unmarked package came in the mail today. It was a bathing costume … suit, that is. (Sorry, I fell back into my Englishness.) It was a strange choice for me, a one-lice, uh, one-piece suit, pink with two unicorns on it.

Pink is so NOT my color. It makes my pale skin look even paler. I tried it on and it fit perfectly, almost better than some things I’ve picked for myself. I left it on for over an hour. I don’t know why. It must be time for me to venture out to the pool again, which I’ve pretty much avoided, since last time it netted me Allen. I’ve been running on a sore ankle for a while, so maybe some time in the pool would be beneficial.

Tommy flushed me out with his flashlight again. His parents were out, and the sitter had put them to bed and was fast asleep on the sofa. He’d caught me in the middle of changing, and I hoped that my crimson satin bathrobe was enough to hide the fact that I was commando – just a t-shirt and the robe. If he can see through my clothes, can he also see the clothes? I didn’t blink, kink … think to ask him.

He didn’t say anything at first. I waited. There was no point asking him something. He would say what he wanted to say when he wanted to say it. He sat down with his back to the fence, knees up against his chest. He was in his pajamas. Was 13 too old for Spiderman pj’s? There was clearly something eating at him.

I leaned over the fence, to look down at him, but he didn’t look up. Eventually, I turned and sat against the fence too, not right behind him, but enough to the side that I could see him through links of the fence. Did he notice that my lip .. straw … strap had caught in the fence when I turned, untying my robe? There wasn’t much to see, had he even looked.

Why do I obsess on him seeing me nude? He sees me nude all the time, whether I am or not! I really should avoid him.

“Dad’s interviewing for a job in California,” he said, finally.

“Is it a good job?” I asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Do you think he’ll get it?”


“Why are you worrying about it?” I asked.

“You need me here,” he replied, after a pause. “You’ll be lost.”

“I already am,” I said.

“A unicorn is magical,” he said, after another brief pause. “You need protection.”

I snorted, not at the second part – he was right about that – but the first part. “Magical? You’re kidding.” If anyone was magical, it was him.

“Look at me,” he said.

I had to blink to believe it. I was sitting on his side of the fence. “How did you do that?” I asked.

“You did it,” he explained. “You do it without even noticing. You are in- and outside of your body at the same time. Look behind you.”

I was leaning against myself, sitting on the other side of the fence. “Which is real? I asked.

“Both.” He didn’t explain. “Only one is visible,” he added, letting that set in.

“Which one?”

“Depends on who’s looking.” He fell silent again.

“Who does …” I paused. “Who does she see?”

“The one behind you. You are free.”

He stood abruptly and started to walk towards the house.

It was only when I stood to follow, that I realized that this me wasn’t dressed. “Wait!” I hissed.

Tommy didn’t look around. “Pamela is awake. I need to be inside.” He ran. I didn’t miss that he said “be” inside, rather than “go” inside. In a second he was gone. Had he vanished, or was I too wrapped up in myself?

I couldn’t follow. I didn’t know what to do. I was separated from my body, which was still sitting against the fence. I was free. There was no henna on this body, and I knew my hair was brown again. How far could I go away from my Earthly body? I walked as far as their pool and sat on the edge. They hadn’t started covering it at night yet. I could feel the cool water on my legs. Could my magical body take a swim? The answer was yes. Would that make a noise? I couldn’t know, but hearing Tommy’s parent’s car come up the drive, I leapt out of the water … and …

Did I fly? I didn’t have time to experiment. I started to run, but before I could go anywhere, I was back in my body on the other side of the fence. I didn’t move. Certainly, that body would make a sound. I sat there frozen until Pamela had left and Tommy’s parents had turned out the lights.

Now, I’m back in my bed, having shed the robe and t-shirt. It’s not the same as the freedom I felt outside. The henna, of course, reminds me of my mistress … my … my chains.