Latest Posts by imitative-magpie - Page 2

🔪🫀🍳🔥🍔🍽️💁🏻‍♀️

(I'm sure you can figure out the story I told you in emoji format.)

Anyway, happy Ides of March, Julius

-Leyley 🩷🖤

As a lover of horror, I understand this was a sacrifice that had to be made

Also, at least throw a side dish in there you monster

🔪🔪🔪

-- steph

Always fashionably late to the party, huh Stephanie? I'll have you know I'm settling in for a long night of rewatching your source material to decompress tonight. Also hey-- ow

HAPPY IDES OF MARCH, JULES!

well. maybe not so happy for you.... 🗡 🗡 🗡 /silly

Tis the season, I suppose. In any case, it's nice to see you again Fallen.

hey hey, could i suggest looking into fear and hunger: termina, specifically? you remind me quite a bit of the character daan from it

Oh, you know I haven't fully looked into Fear and Hunger! You think I would given I would, given-- it's the two main topics I bring up all the time, on this blog. I gave the source material a glance over and I see that Daan is a doctor, which may very well explain my mild fixation with neuroscience.. Thank you for this recommendation, I'll be sure to add it to my list

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

.... I probably should've expected this

Go on, take a guess which category I fall under..

like/reblog if u are:

a bitch

a bastard

an all around fool

an omnipresent all-powerful being

a sparrow

c̵͙̳͕̈͛ụ̷̔r̸̗͎̽̓͗͜s̴̨̈́̿͘e̸͍̰̜͊̈́d̵̛̫̙͍͝͝

capable of moving at immense, incomprehensible speeds

an eldritch being

no one will know which one u chose! :D

I Feel I Should Address The Elephant In The Room

As someone named Julius, I'm looking forward to my first ‘Ides of March’ on Tumblr with you all.

Have you looked into the persona series (particularly p5 and p3) as well as the umbrella academy?

Ah, I am vaguely aware of and have viewed the Persona games, but I hadn't considered the possibility that it may be a kin source. Thank you for this suggestion, maybe I'll have to refresh my memory on this series as a whole

As for Umbrella Academy-- I can't say I've viewed this one before. I'll definitely add it to my source list, and if any fictionkin or fictives wish to share their own memories from these sources, the door is always open..

your blog is so fascinating. i love reading what you have to say.

Thank you, I'm both glad and relieved that my blog has brought some of you enjoyment throughout my time online, and once I find the source I'm looking for, I would like to switch gears and have you all be the focus of my blog- whether that means I become a kincall blog or maybe regularly write questions for others to answer with their experiences? I feel deeply inspired by the memories so many of you have shared and I wish to make this your space as much as it is mine, so if anyone has suggestions of what they would like to see more of on this blog, feel free to let me know

Please Share What's Given You Mental/Phantom Shifts

We all know that feeling- where you're watching a movie, and something on screen catches your attention because it's just like you. That creature transformation, that dynamic between two people, that mythical beast.. whatever it is, we latch onto these scenes because they help us better contextualize and explain our experience as alterhumans, because it so deeply affects us, leaving us in shifts for days after. 

I would like to share a few moments in media, besides the suggestions of others, that have impacted me in such a way.

I'd like to start by sharing my thoughts regarding the movie The Omen. It's one of those horror movies that stick with you, not just because of the plot but the intrigue surrounding such a film. Everyone knows that rumor that it's a cursed film due to the tragic occurrences that surrounded it's production. In the series of films, horrible things happen to anyone who gets close to Damien, as if he himself has willed them to happen. He's depicted as the antichrist, and the way he talks, the things that happen in the trilogy.. Well, it just left me feeling like we're in the same boat. That there's something more to it, because I feel stained by something horrific and I feel as though I've inflicted this malcontent against anyone who gets close to me. 

It's part of why Insidious spoke to me as much as it had, my first watch through. The demons and spirits in Insidious are described as hungry and they can even smell the still living souls when they astral project from their bodies at night. They feed off the fear of those they afflict, and they aim to steal the bodies of the dreamers for their own. That scene where there was that dark figure standing in the corner of Dalton’s room? That is so close to how I've found myself in my many dreams, haunting others like a sleep apparition demon. I would be lying if I said that was my only reason though… The red door that's been shown in the original film– I heard they're making a movie giving it some background story, but there's something about the red door that felt familiar. I don't even know why. 

The Rake had been one of the creepypastas of the early 2000s that had stuck with me throughout my childhood- I remember a depiction of its ghoul like figure, sitting at the edge of beds. If you look directly at this creature, it attacks viscously, wishing not to be perceived. This shrill voiced anomaly of the woods reminds me much of myself, reminds me of things I’ve long forgotten. The Rake holds a special place in my heart. I was nearly obsessed with the story in my preteens, and it remains a topic of interest to this day, along with the stories of The Operator. 

It should come as no surprise that I relate a fair bit to Johnny Truant, with his descent into paranoia and hysteria throughout his journal, and his ambiguous end. It’s just one of the many reasons I felt so attached to House of Leaves. This character is not my only reasoning for why I feel attached to House of Leaves though. There are recurring themes that have left its mark on me, and made me who I am. The house’s inner dimensions being as twisted and foreboding as they are, as well Will’s letter regarding the house to Karen had left a significant impact on me. It’s so unfortunate that only fragmented pieces seem familiar to me while not touching on some of the topics of my dream memories- because I would claim this as my source in a heartbeat. 

Smile was an interesting one, to give me Kin shifts. While Insidious was the first movie to allow me kinshifts that left me truly feeling like a monster, Smile was the first time I found I liked it, and how that terrified me. The idea of something so horrific infecting someone in a parasitic nature–

I have always felt my urges held those same parasitic traits. It only got worse with the sequel. The opening soundtrack and the ending left a terrified thrill in my heart, left me feeling that desire to suck the marrow straight from fear itself. 

.. And then there was ‘The Murders of Molly Southbourne’, a book that I still reflect on not for it’s literary prowess, as I found myself not particularly enthused by the lackluster route the book had taken.. But the very first moment the story’s central theme was unveiled to me, the idea of what could be had always sat heavy in my head. Stories of doppelgangers, and monsters being born from shed blood had always been something that caught my eye, and this book was no different. Sure, there were other stories such as Plastic Faces, taken straight from r/No Sleep, and Tender is the Flesh with the dehumanisation of Jasmine and heavy themes of gore. I guess in truth, the visuals in my head have always drawn me in, fed life to me where I would otherwise be vacant. I just want to know who I am, maybe that's why the theme of doppelgangers and the uncanny has always caught my attention so consistently.    

There are others like this that I ruminate over, trying to find meaning in while it turns a blade of desire deep in my soul,

But I’m interested in you. What do you remember viewing, that first ever gave you those ‘shifty feelings’? Feel free to reblog with your own experiences.

A Dream About A Maze

Tonight’s the night. It has to be–

I’ve been patient, biding my time, ignoring this urge in the name of an experiment but also because some part of me was hoping it’s all a lie I’ve convinced myself of. That I could break away.. I’ve always known what I am. At first it was easy, and I’d gotten hopeful. The dreams dulled to a myriad of eyes, a cacophony of screams. I got dms, offering to share memories and I politely held my resolve but then the ache began to grow steadily like a raw and aching wound in my chest. 

Now that ache has developed into everything I’ve feared the most. This parasocial relationship has become my religion and way of life. So here I am, in another bedroom. In the end it’s no big surprise, I crossed the line a lifetime ago in a reality far from this one. Torturing myself with guilt isn’t enough to hold me back anymore. I want to know the feeling of touching that high again, even if the heart palpitations kill me. I think she understands that when I look at her. 

Megan is watching me back, frightened, but I look through her all the same. Her eyes are dark, frantic and searching mine for any humanity. Yet she found none in any of them. This has become a methodical practice, and I was far too desperate to show any delay. I was beyond reasoning, and nothing more than a caged animal. The eyes are the gateway to her soul, and so my fingers stabbed down into the pupil of her eye, and again we meet in this same place that we always do. 

Megan Awbrey was lost. I could feel that much, the stirring of dread like dead leaves in the wind reverberated through my chest. I had been in the mall with friends, this was just supposed to be a girl’s outing, not only a week away from my birthday. How had I found myself.. Here? It’s a long stretching room, painted a shade that seemed to be red or orange. The loud and bright coloring was miles away from the crisp white of the mini mall that I had been in only moments ago. The only way out was a vivid lilac door. “Erica..? Dana? Where the fuck are you?!” my voice comes out as the sound of an agitated young woman, in her 20s- 22 to be exact, her life had only just begun. I try to shake off the building anxiety and make a move towards the blue door with a huff, only to find the gap between the door and I pull. I was sure I had moved and yet the door remained the same distance away. 

Something is terribly wrong here, I can feel it in the air. Something heavy that sends hot and cold flashes through my body, making my vision dip and swoon, my ears ringing- I am so terribly trapped. I zip open my purse, fishing out an old tube of chapstick. ‘If I really am going nowhere, this chapstick will stay in my line of sight as I’m making a dash for the door,’ I think to myself, dropping it down onto the old, thin carpeted floor and watching it roll slightly into the baseboard of the wall. Megan is congratulating herself for her forward thinking as she takes quick little steps down the ugly ashen hallway, she almost forgets the dire situation she has found herself in, until I look back and see that the chapstick is nowhere to be seen. More direly, I hear footsteps. Fast, quickly closing in footsteps, and so I- Megan, begins to run down the hallway, desperately trying to reach a door she cannot even remember the color of. 

She had not gotten this far through nursing school, to ultimately be backrooms-ed to death. She thinks this under a litany of other frantic and half aborted thoughts- because you barely even have time to think, when you’re running for your life in high heels, mind you-

It was about the time that the hallway went awash in a creamy off putting shade of yellow, that I remembered that I am not Megan Awbrey. This thing I’m running from, at the end of the hallway is just a part of my dreams, and therefore a part of me. I slow to a jog and eventually a halt, refusing to look back at what is probably rapidly advancing. I can hear it’s footsteps on the walls, the ceiling–

“May I ask you a few questions? I feel like you have something to tell me.”  And the voice is so terribly mine, that it catches me off guard. It is me, so suddenly that I feel off kilter, ripped from a dream. It’s quiet for a minute and then, “You can ask, but you’ll never find answers.”

..

What do you do, when you find yourself interrogating your own memories? Are you truly getting the answers you so desperately crave, or is my own subconscious feeding me my worst fears? Is it all an exercise in vanity? 

“I need to know what you are. Please, what is your nature?” I sound frantic to my own ears, and I realize I have disregarded the questionnaire in feverish hope of something making sense. I have no script to rely on now. “I am the gaps in your mind, the fear of chaos. You are living on something concrete, but I am the in between,” The anomaly before me grins wide, drinking in my reaction. I shudder; suddenly this hallway seems so far from the warmth of the sun. Chaos incarnate is one way to look at them, and yet somehow I felt as though they were playing with their answer. “Have you always been force of the impossible coming into reality?” My fingers twitch, the nails clicking against each other in anticipation. At this vague and cryptic question, they cock their head in curiosity. 

The question is at the tip of my tongue, ‘Were you always this, or was it something that was inflicted upon you?’ but I think better of it, instead choosing to ask, “Are there others like you?” 

“Many! More than you could hope to find in your dreams. So many of them were hapless victims that found themselves taken over by an entity outside of human comprehension. Have you ever watched someone get chewed up in the mouth of fear and swallowed down until there was nothing left of the person you knew before? That is what they are! Victims have been fed to the fears countless times, and it will happen again.”

“Why do they do it though? What do they want?” 

“Well, if you were a being that defined yourself off the fear of others for allll of your existence…what would you want, more than anything after being left in silence for as long as we have?”

“They want to be known.” I decided, because that had to be it, right? They wanted to be recognized and seen for the fearful creatures they once were- at least to inspire new fear just as they once had. Could it even be as simple as that? “Is that what you want? To be known?”

“Do I look like I do?” 

I suppose not in the traditional sense. This was a being of complete chaos and contradiction, that much was readily apparent to me, and yet I think this entity would not be entertaining my inquiries if they didn't want to at least be recognized for the disorder and breaking of boundaries that they represent. They are a creature of many branching facets that wishes to be studied by inquisitive eyes- maybe I was just the man to bring them that. 

“I think you have been left craving for a long time.” I finally settled on. “You would know about cravings, wouldn't you? How many memories have you strangled from people's subconscious?” There's a tone of teasing, light and airy and yet the bitter accusation underneath is digging into me deep. “This is my dream and you don't have power here,” I mutter, trying to focus on something so I could force myself awake. I desperately needed to ground myself.

“Oh don't be so coy, dear Jules. You haven't been perfecting your dream hunting because you want to help others.” 

“I'm going to count backwards from 3, and then I'll wake up. Three,”

“All this pride, all this fight… oh,  be honest with yourself. Yoouuu liked it~” 

When the impossibly long, slender fingers of the entity ran along my chest, I couldn't help but let out a breathless gasp, a tremor running up my spine. It then became apparent to me that no matter how otherworldly I felt and looked in these dreams, there was still a part of me that felt vulnerable and human… and most of all, afraid. They could smell it on me, and I was mad at myself for giving in so easily. 

“I'm nothing like you,”

“Oh no? You're not drinking in the fear? My, maybe he was wrong about you after all.” 

And suddenly, the fingers stabbed deep into my chest, causing me to leap awake, grabbing at myself. As I work on catching my breath, I know when Megan finally found herself free from that monster, she never found her friends again. A sickening part of me is more focused on the possibilities our conversation has presented, rather than the guilt I should be feeling though.

.. And isn’t that just terrifying?

Final Conclusions;

I bludgeoned sobriety with a bat, and left it dead in the woods. It died an ugly death, kicking and screaming as I tore it limb from limb- because I am so hungry. I can’t help it, I don’t want to know what I am without someone here to latch onto the memories of. I can’t help it, this is who I’ll always be. So now that you know I’m trapped, let's get into our findings;

Within  the very beginnings of the experiment, I found that when I received notifications in my dms, I felt a nervous energy. It was almost an impulsive reflex, telling me to answer my dms. That I was breaking the rules of social interaction. According to my two observers that I unwittingly roped into the experiment, they had said that my urge to return back to these behaviors showed an overall consistency, or as Steph lovingly put it, “(...)You were crawling out of your skin since day one.”. 

That being said, I had noticed a steady increase of sporadic behavior from that point on, including thrill seeking urges that included a momentary fantasy about going bungee jumping or taking a detour into the woods on my way home from work to scream until my lungs give out. These urges were accompanied by dietary changes, cravings for starch based comfort foods that suggested that I was under stress.

 The idea that I was under stress is further backed up by the observations of my aforementioned participants of choice, one of which (Evan, the problem child) had brought to attention my discomfort multiple times throughout the experiment. 

At the end of the experiment, it had been brought to my attention by Steph that, “You’re trying to collect and address primarily qualitative data with quantitative methodologies and as a result are losing out on a lot of useful information, both in this experiment and general interview practices,” which was a great point, seeing as throughout the entirety of my blog, I've been trying to assign tangible and numerical findings to something as intimate as kin memories.

 Now that I'm back, I plan to remedy this, starting with openly sharing about what makes me experience mental/phantom shifts, and what has spoken to me so far throughout this search into what source I belong to. 

Ocean Eyes

There is an eye at the bottom of the ocean, belonging to an old god whose name has been forgotten, but still leaves echoes in the memory of man. It's there, under the rolling waves and aquatic life. In a constant staring contest with our sun that's dripping crimson with the blood of so many who have given into their fears, the eye gazes not just on that sun but through every life that has ever lived in this reality we've found ourselves in, and so many others.

 When it finally blinks, the world will end. This is a fact. The Earth will begin to swallow us whole, and nature will take back what we've stolen from it. Bridges collapsing and headlights careering into the star filled glinting sea, into doors that were never meant to be opened. Fear and panic in the air, do you feel it too?.. and when that eye blinks, our sun will too. I want to look down into those depths just so I can reassure myself it's fine. ‘It was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that you had because you went into cardiac arrest,’

But it's still wriggling in my brain, pulling in and out of my periphery like a tide. So I think..

I'm going to run a little experiment. I've mentioned my urges- 

My fixation with hearing others experiences and memories, my drive to feel that connection, and to pick at the more distressing details of said memories. I would like to stop completely, just to see how uncomfortable I'd get. I want to document how long it takes until my resolve cracks, just to get a sense of how trapped I really am in this cycle.

So, if I don't post for a while, my blog isn't dead! I'm simply trying not to fall into a pattern that I've been feeding into for the past 3 months. I will post the results when I feel I've gotten satisfying results.

"The gods love you❤" **INCREDIBLY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER**

Reblog to let prev know their presence is wanted

jules, i just gotta let you know that its always a Delight reading what you have to say. the way you talk is so captivating, please never change <33333

I appreciate, and reciprocate this sentiment. In our interactions thus far, you've been incredibly helpful, and in truth I've been having a bit of a rough time with this.. “not asking others about memories” thing. I guess some part of me is more dependent on the social interaction than I'd originally thought. So thank you for reaching out to me, it means a lot

damn, still no TMA on the kinsidering list? ;P - steph

Ah, you've noticed I don't have it categorized under complete, revised and/or a possible match. I understand why this might come as a surprise given the high number of source suggestions for this particular media, so maybe this might be a good time to break down my method in categorizing and researching different sources.

In order for me to feel comfortable organizing it under any one group, I try to at the very least get through at least one full watch through, read through, et cetera. From there, I will mark the source as completed, and look over the notes I have taken on what felt familiar to me or stood out. 

This is where I revise my notes and go through a second watch through comparing my previous notes with what I have written about my own experiences. Then and only then, will I categorize a source revised, or even possible match. Of course there are outliers to this method. Namely a certain famously long webcomic I had to make a special exemption for this rule. 

That being said, The Magnus Archives is still uncategorized in my source list because while I have gotten to know a couple of wonderful fictionkin/fictives from said source, I regret to say that I have not yet viewed the content. I do plan to remedy this however, in short time. 

An Update (Part 2);

I am scaling the walls of my enclosure. I misjudged how this time off would affect me. I wish to be broken free from this mortal prison

Ocean Eyes

There is an eye at the bottom of the ocean, belonging to an old god whose name has been forgotten, but still leaves echoes in the memory of man. It's there, under the rolling waves and aquatic life. In a constant staring contest with our sun that's dripping crimson with the blood of so many who have given into their fears, the eye gazes not just on that sun but through every life that has ever lived in this reality we've found ourselves in, and so many others.

 When it finally blinks, the world will end. This is a fact. The Earth will begin to swallow us whole, and nature will take back what we've stolen from it. Bridges collapsing and headlights careering into the star filled glinting sea, into doors that were never meant to be opened. Fear and panic in the air, do you feel it too?.. and when that eye blinks, our sun will too. I want to look down into those depths just so I can reassure myself it's fine. ‘It was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that you had because you went into cardiac arrest,’

But it's still wriggling in my brain, pulling in and out of my periphery like a tide. So I think..

I'm going to run a little experiment. I've mentioned my urges- 

My fixation with hearing others experiences and memories, my drive to feel that connection, and to pick at the more distressing details of said memories. I would like to stop completely, just to see how uncomfortable I'd get. I want to document how long it takes until my resolve cracks, just to get a sense of how trapped I really am in this cycle.

So, if I don't post for a while, my blog isn't dead! I'm simply trying not to fall into a pattern that I've been feeding into for the past 3 months. I will post the results when I feel I've gotten satisfying results.

good timezone, jules! i Peeked at your updated possible sources list & i have been inspired to suggest some more :)

if you watched hazbin hotel, you should watch its sister show helluva boss (very much free to watch entirely on youtube). if you watched the hot trash show that is diabolik lovers (i say this with love. i've been a fan of dialovers since im 14 <3), you should try the equally hot garbage that is vampire knight (also with love, i have been a bigger fan since im also 14)

unrelated to The List, i suggest you take a peek at neon genesis evangelion (both the original anime + end of evangelion [very important!] & the 4 rebuild movies) because it's psychological disasters personified & tbh i feel like you'd like it, & on a similar vein, land of the lustrous/houseki no kuni (SPECIFICALLY the manga, which you can find for free online, because that's where all the shit happens). evangelion is my favorite anime & hnk is my favorite manga actually :) they're both very madoka magica in the sense that it starts out cheery & suddenly everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong. & even if you dont get any kin feels from them i think you'd really enjoy the plot!

Thank you so much for the recommendations, I'll look into both the source adjacent ones and the ones for general enjoyment alike. I'm glad to hear from you again, as always

I'm taking this. It's mine now.

some horrorkin and monsterkin blinkies :] pssst... i'm taking requests for this template if anyone wants it in a different color/different words! (free to use, no credit or permission required, no dni)

While I have the time to keep up on my blog maintenance, let's update this while we're at it;

*Boyfriend to Death (Completed)

*Everyman HYBRID (Completed and Revised, Possible Match) 

*Marble Hornets (Completed and Revised)

*Tribe Twelve (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

*Identity V (Completed, Possible Match)

*The Coffin of Andy and Leyley (Completed, Mayyybee??)

*P.T (Completed and Revised)

*Madness Combat (Completed)

*Diabolik Lovers (Completed)

*Insidious (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

*The Black Tapes

*Malevolent 

*Smile (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

*Hazbin Hotel (Completed)

The Complete List Of Kinsidering Sources

Thanks to the help of so many of you both here on Tumblr, and on various discord servers, I was able to lay a lot of groundwork into discovering my identity. I would like to share a list of sources I have been given and am currently looking into in order to widen my sample size regarding memories as a whole. Here is where I currently am in this process;

*The Dream SMP (Completed)

*Mouth Washing (Even Though I Have Mostly Ruled That Out) ((Completed.. obviously))

*Homestuck (Not Really Completed But I Feel I've Seen Enough)

*A Song of Ice and Fire (Completed and Revised)

*Maximum Ride Series (Completed and Revised)

*Final Destination (Completed and Revised)

*Madoka Magica (Completed)

*Supernatural (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

*Zero Escape Series (Completed)

*The Magnus Archives 

*SCP and Related Works (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

*Death Note (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

*Arcane (Completed and Revised)

*The Magicians 

*Ave Mujica

*The Mandela Catalogue (Completed, Possible Match)

*Devilman Crybaby 

*American Horror Story (Completed and Revised)

*The Omen (Completed and Revised, Possible Match)

If anyone from these sources would like to impart any insight or simply share any memories that have been weighing on them..

Well, you know I'll always be listening.

An Update;

So far, my break from latching onto others’ memories is going well! My dreams still haunt me all the same, I try not to remember them– a myriad of eyes, a cacophony of screams in the dark, these will be lost to the sands of time, but if I just ignore them I won't have to breathe life back into the horror of it all by posting on here. Besides, wouldn't that be cheating..?

There were times that I felt like I wanted to go into my inbox, an anxious sort of feeling that  tells me I have to look, but after 6 days ignoring it, this is seemingly fairly manageable! On an unrelated note, did you know you can grit your teeth hard enough to make fractures in them? 

Ocean Eyes

There is an eye at the bottom of the ocean, belonging to an old god whose name has been forgotten, but still leaves echoes in the memory of man. It's there, under the rolling waves and aquatic life. In a constant staring contest with our sun that's dripping crimson with the blood of so many who have given into their fears, the eye gazes not just on that sun but through every life that has ever lived in this reality we've found ourselves in, and so many others.

 When it finally blinks, the world will end. This is a fact. The Earth will begin to swallow us whole, and nature will take back what we've stolen from it. Bridges collapsing and headlights careering into the star filled glinting sea, into doors that were never meant to be opened. Fear and panic in the air, do you feel it too?.. and when that eye blinks, our sun will too. I want to look down into those depths just so I can reassure myself it's fine. ‘It was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that you had because you went into cardiac arrest,’

But it's still wriggling in my brain, pulling in and out of my periphery like a tide. So I think..

I'm going to run a little experiment. I've mentioned my urges- 

My fixation with hearing others experiences and memories, my drive to feel that connection, and to pick at the more distressing details of said memories. I would like to stop completely, just to see how uncomfortable I'd get. I want to document how long it takes until my resolve cracks, just to get a sense of how trapped I really am in this cycle.

So, if I don't post for a while, my blog isn't dead! I'm simply trying not to fall into a pattern that I've been feeding into for the past 3 months. I will post the results when I feel I've gotten satisfying results.

About Problematic Kin

While I take this brief interlude on my blog, I would like to make something abundantly clear that I have had others inquiring about-- I will never turn away problematic or ‘antagonist’ fictionkin and fictives. 

I have seen you pushed to the wayside without anyone allowing you to get your foot in the door, or taking the time to understand your story. It's a shame because I have met so many wonderful kins who hesitate to interact with their own communities, and if I shut them out, I would have missed out on some genuinely wonderful interactions.

 To the HABITs of Everyman HYBRID, the Andys and Ashleys of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, the Kevins of Welcome to Nightvale,  and the Jonah Magnuses of The Magnus Archives, I want YOUR STORY. I want to understand your experiences, your memories but most of all I want you to know that you aren't alone. Whether you're a slasher from a horror film or a protagonist from a source material that has gained a reputation.. I would like to hear you out, to understand you in your entirety because I too have been marked by something horrific, and it has defined me my whole life. 

I want you to know that while it may feel impossible to stop that feeling, maybe we can all peer into the unknown together, and find joy in this life in spite of previous ones. 

Ocean Eyes

There is an eye at the bottom of the ocean, belonging to an old god whose name has been forgotten, but still leaves echoes in the memory of man. It's there, under the rolling waves and aquatic life. In a constant staring contest with our sun that's dripping crimson with the blood of so many who have given into their fears, the eye gazes not just on that sun but through every life that has ever lived in this reality we've found ourselves in, and so many others.

 When it finally blinks, the world will end. This is a fact. The Earth will begin to swallow us whole, and nature will take back what we've stolen from it. Bridges collapsing and headlights careering into the star filled glinting sea, into doors that were never meant to be opened. Fear and panic in the air, do you feel it too?.. and when that eye blinks, our sun will too. I want to look down into those depths just so I can reassure myself it's fine. ‘It was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that you had because you went into cardiac arrest,’

But it's still wriggling in my brain, pulling in and out of my periphery like a tide. So I think..

I'm going to run a little experiment. I've mentioned my urges- 

My fixation with hearing others experiences and memories, my drive to feel that connection, and to pick at the more distressing details of said memories. I would like to stop completely, just to see how uncomfortable I'd get. I want to document how long it takes until my resolve cracks, just to get a sense of how trapped I really am in this cycle.

So, if I don't post for a while, my blog isn't dead! I'm simply trying not to fall into a pattern that I've been feeding into for the past 3 months. I will post the results when I feel I've gotten satisfying results.

Do you ever see a post that makes you feel sad, and you can't place your finger on why..?

Do you ever wish you could take the steam with you?

(x)

An Otherworldly Garden of Lights Emerges from Hemp and Resin by Ross Hansen

Stained glass lamps