Latest Posts by imitative-magpie - Page 3

*Just read your cabin post*

Please for the love of god, check out The Magnus Archives, Magpie. You are so eye coded

I have gotten a lot of recommendations towards The Magnus Archives, that's probably apparent on my blog at this point. I mean, I have whittled down my list of sources to look into. Every time I get replies like this, it piques my curiosity; what was it about the post that resonated with you in that way? I guess there's only one way to find out--

Knock Knock,

I'm not sure how you're going to answer this without either revealing who you are or making a new ask but alright--

Who's there?

. . . Those visuals are absolutely haunting. I'm bumping this source material to the top of my list

Holy shit- actually, those first 3 paragraphs plus that stray sentence that technically is it's own paragraph meaning the first 4 paragraphs in reality...

I no longer believe your my demon friend- I think you might be Lord Unknown. (Is only seen once in-game so far outside of the devlog and is from an optional path that gives more content)

And the group of people with only one surviving... That could've been a meeting with 6-Eyes (the cult) and the survivor could've been the cult leader.

Honestly- the fact that it's in a cabin could explain why there was a ritual set up in an abandoned cabin near my grandparents house when we were kids. (Devlog stuff, sorry just rambling)

Yeah, shit. I don't know about anything else for that dream but holy fuck, when I was reading about the first 4 paragraphs all I could think was "yup, sounds like Lord Unknown" and the cult leader

Anyway- uhhh... I'll leave you be now.

-Ashley Graves (the Coffin of Andy and Leyley)

PS: if it'll help at all, I have 2 screenshots of the only 2 times Lord Unknown actually makes an appearance, one in the devlog and the other in the game itself

The group that I saw in my dreams did hold an uncanny resemblance to a cult.. It was rather chilling to see them there, huddled in the shadows, whispering about such awful, wonderful things. Waiting for me. There is.. One small thing though. I’m not sure the men died, they simply vanished from my line of sight, all at once like the light being snuffed out of a candle. Like an illusion. Nevertheless, I feel a pull towards that name. If you could show me the screenshot, if you wouldn’t mind..

Holy shit- actually, those first 3 paragraphs plus that stray sentence that technically is it's own paragraph meaning the first 4 paragraphs in reality...

I no longer believe your my demon friend- I think you might be Lord Unknown. (Is only seen once in-game so far outside of the devlog and is from an optional path that gives more content)

And the group of people with only one surviving... That could've been a meeting with 6-Eyes (the cult) and the survivor could've been the cult leader.

Honestly- the fact that it's in a cabin could explain why there was a ritual set up in an abandoned cabin near my grandparents house when we were kids. (Devlog stuff, sorry just rambling)

Yeah, shit. I don't know about anything else for that dream but holy fuck, when I was reading about the first 4 paragraphs all I could think was "yup, sounds like Lord Unknown" and the cult leader

Anyway- uhhh... I'll leave you be now.

-Ashley Graves (the Coffin of Andy and Leyley)

PS: if it'll help at all, I have 2 screenshots of the only 2 times Lord Unknown actually makes an appearance, one in the devlog and the other in the game itself

The group that I saw in my dreams did hold an uncanny resemblance to a cult.. It was rather chilling to see them there, huddled in the shadows, whispering about such awful, wonderful things. Waiting for me. There is.. One small thing though. I’m not sure the men died, they simply vanished from my line of sight, all at once like the light being snuffed out of a candle. Like an illusion. Nevertheless, I feel a pull towards that name. If you could show me the screenshot, if you wouldn’t mind..

A Dream About A Cabin

They're standing around a table when I materialize in the corner. Pressed tightly together in their circle, shadows stretching over the walls, they whisper about the horrors of man and as they hit that crescendo of hysteria, their voices hiss into hushed silence. They know I’m with them now, bodies growing still. This is where I’m really taken aback- the majority of the figures at that table bleed into nothingness- as if they were never there to begin with, save for one man who turns slowly, the satisfaction is just dripping from his eyes when he faces me in full. 

“How nice of you to visit while I wait on my crime, were you hoping to find answers here?” He asks. It’s almost friendly and teasing but make no mistake, the mask that he wears has not put me at ease, I can tell that there’s something not fully human about him. He picks up on my glare that’s pinning him down for answers, and he doesn’t delay because he knows the sharp twist of hunger and the paranoia in our gut is the only thing that drives us. “You know- the life sentence you’ve subjected me to? Don’t you hear it underneath every dream, that hissing noise? Tell me, do you know who you are yet?” And he’s right, there is something just undercurrent. It’s whirring and clogged with dust. I begin to wonder if he really can’t leave this place… or if much like me, he’s been broken down into tiny, tiny pieces. “You don’t know, I can tell by that constipated look on your face. You don’t know, and it distresses you more than anything.” Sure, his smile is tight with mirthless cheer. This fear he sees in me is his own though, and that’s how he’s able to tap into it. “In the end it hardly matters, what’s in a name anyways? You and I still play our role of a voyeur all the same,”

What’s in a name indeed.

“I can show you things.” Suddenly his voice is right next to my ear as he looms from behind me. “Things that will leave you awake for hours, things that will make you think twice about wandering dark hallways alone at night.”  I crane my neck, trying to get a look at his face while he says this. For some reason, having him out of my line of sight makes me terribly uneasy. “Would you like that? You don’t have to answer, I already know.” And I would like that. I really, really would. All it takes is one second to get caught up in his purple prose, and suddenly I feel the urge pulling me under again. All it takes is for him to give me that final push, and the next thing I know-

I’m right back where I started. In a bedroom, standing over another victim. This one gazes at me through hollowed sockets, healed over through the ever merciful passage of time. I know he can see me though. He can sense me standing over him and he can imagine what I must look like, the unspeakable form I’ve taken, he fears it just as any other man that I’ve held in this very spot before him. He fears me, and I am a glutton by nature, so I press my fingers down into the mottled flesh, and let myself get pulled away by the currents of his memories. 

There was a cabin, long forgotten by those who came before. Built upon hallowed grounds from merging timelines, out far in the woods of Scotland, Isobel has gone missing.. And I have to bring her home. All through our lives, she had been the braver, more outgoing twin. In grade school she had been the one to hang upside-down from the monkey bars, the one to brave the dark and assure me that it would be alright- because she'd be there to protect me.

 She had always been interested in exploring new uncharted lands, and that interest of hers never seemed to be fully quenched. That wild side of her’s became more refined the older we got, her taking wildlife survival courses while I focused on our university's acting programs. 

The rock filled dirt road came to an abrupt stop, but I knew where I was heading, based on the letters that she had sent during the very beginning of her expedition- a little cabin, modest and in need of repair. When Izzy had said that she wanted to take a gap year to find herself, we had been supportive. Even more so when she said she wanted to use the time to pursue her passion of solo camping. It had seemed like the perfect vacation to her restless legs and wandering spirit. No one could have expected Isobel to have gone radio silent only a month into her trip, not returning home from even 2 weeks later. Had she simply lost track of time? I didn't want to think of an alternative answer. 

So here I was-  walking up to this haunted abode, ready to knock.. When I got the feeling of being watched. It prickled along the hairs of my arms and down my neck in icy fingers, dancing lines down my back. “Izzy!” I call out, but she does not answer to my knocking, the door remains shut. There's a scent to the air, sickly and metallic. It's the smell of death, I know it. Isobel is likely gone, but in a moment of nervous energy- I'm not sure what took over me, I began making my way around the back of the cabin in long leaping strides. I needed to find a way into that cabin. If Isobel was in there.. I needed to be there for her, like she's always been there for me. 

Eyes frantically searching for a way in, I decide that I'll grab a rock and smash the first story window. A window that looks to have already taken a beating, by some unknown sources. The rocks are small. These would hardly do the damage I was hoping for. I wander farther to the treeline, where a ditch of disturbed and peeled back earth is alive with flies. I fear the worst as I inch closer to the shallow burial, only to find.. Eyes. 

Eyes, plucked from a variety of animals, bloodied with the nerves still attached like outstretched appendages, eaten by the black flies that cluster around. I feel faint, and I once again feel the feeling of eyes upon me. She's standing there, hands bloody, eyes ravenous and frenzied. She's scared, and she wants to go home. She wants to go back to how it was before all of this. “Over here! Over here with me, where it’s safe!” She makes a frantic gesture for me, she wants me to walk over to her. Something is terribly off though. I take in the disheveled appearance of my sister-

“You haven’t bathed,” It seems silly that of all the things that stood out to me, that’s what I chose to point out. Her hair was matted and sallow in tangled clumps down her back. Grime and blood caked under her fingernails. She smelled of death. “Something awful happened in the bathtub of this house. Something terrible lives here.” I take a step back from her, glancing back at the shallow grave of eyes. Taking all this in, I remember what I wanted so desperately from these dreams. I am not Kieran O’Connor, I am Jules, and I need to ask a question right now.. But I’m terrified. I don’t understand how this could’ve happened to the O’Connor twins, they were such a happy family.

“Why?!”  It’s all I could think to ask. My voice is strained in my throat, but it’s my question, and that is all that matters at this moment. “Don’t you feel it? The eyes that are on us? Kieran, look into the woods!” She’s already looking past me, and so I did, and I saw everything. 

The woods had gone still, quiet. Birds perched on branches as stock still as could be, staring deep into us, emotionlessly. Squirrels halted in posture, facing their judging gazes with the lone pine marten, but there was more. A darkness in those woods, so terribly familiar gazed into me as well with its many, many eyes. I felt it look through the vessel of Kieran O’Connor and into my soul, just as I knew- something I’m unsure of how I became so certain of, that Isobel was doing to me, right now. I spun around on my heels to look back, and Isobel’s expression has changed. 

Isobel wore such a hateful expression. Have you ever had someone look at you with such a true level of hate that it left you frightened? That it warped their face and made them an uncanny looking stranger? I’m not talking about the usual mocking and disgust that people often exhibit towards those they take a disliking to. Isobel became something other when she recognized me. “It’s staring through you, too. I should have known better… than to have expected you to let me leave this place so easily.” 

“Put down the knife, Isobel.” But it was too late, she was rapidly advancing on me, mouth slightly agape and that hateful expression twisting once loving features. She was his sister. My head smack hard against the ground as she pushes me..Kieran, over. He trusted her. The knife angles down to his eye. How could this have happened? How could I let it happen? And I felt it as well as I had heard it, when the first eye was plucked free with a sickening pop. 

I don’t need to tell you, that this was when I woke up. You already know.

Vagus Nerve Stimulation Treatment and its Effects on Severe Depression 

As it turns out, vagus nerve stimulation may have lasting effects on those with depression. Our vagus nerves run from the brain through the neck and to our internal organs. 

An international team of researchers conducted a clinical trial on 493 adults whose major depression hadn't previously responded to treatment, and after nearly ten months of research and heavy assessments, it was found that participants who received the stimulation treatment showed improvements in their depressive symptoms. This was further proven by trial lead by Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis, which conducted their study on the wider range of 500 participants at 84 sites across the U.S. The patients from both of these clinical trials were previously found to have not been treated effectively with medication or other approaches. 

You can actually read more about Vagus Nerve Stimulation here if you're interested; 

https://www.brainstimjrnl.com/current

also small side note... is the "is fear close relative or truth" thing a twenty one pilots reference?

-marcus keay (non-cannon tma)

Oh, you noticed that. I hadn't exactly phrased the lyrics the same way, but I guess I'm more obvious than I thought–

It's funny, when people ask about my favorite genre of music, I always say classical in subconscious hopes of looking mature. It's almost out of reflex now, but I do enjoy Twenty One Pilots. There's a few lyrics in that song that resonated with me;

‘I could take the high road, but I know that I'm going low,’

‘I created this world to feel some control, I could destroy it if I want, so I sing Sahlo Folina’

It's that feeling of staring into the abyss, or really crossing the line in order to take vengeance.  It's the feeling of hitting a point of no return, and being resigned to the fact I may need to let myself become dangerous just to survive. 

i think i responded to something you posted somewhere but i figured i'd just reach out here instead!

from my own kin stuff and source and everything, i don't know if you've gone through the magnus archives before but what you're saying sounds a lot like someone deep within the beholding to me. that need to watch, to know things even if it destroys you or others, the intake of others stories. it reminds me of jon honestly with the guilt aspect of it, or maybe even jonah or elias, maybe the archivist from the magnus protocol.

either way, you're always welcome to reach out and talk about your own experience or process of figuring things out!

-marcus keay (non-cannon magnus archive)

@the-neon-attic

I've been hearing that name come up a lot actually, among a few others. The need to watch in spite of the destruction it brings is a good way to put this feeling, you certainly hit the nail on the head there.. There's something more to this though, it's parasitic in nature. I feel as though I'm filling a hollow part of me that's raw and hungry with the mismatched parts of others' memories just to feel whole, and I never have a way to compensate them for this favor. Not in a way that really matters, or makes up for the damage. If that is what the beholding feels like, then I might just have a few questions for you.

As if there were any doubt..

That being said, I'm pleased that our blogs crossed paths. I enjoy seeing your posts on my dash so I am at least a little familiar with your source. Just a bit.

Okay, I keep reading a lot of your dreams, how they're about you being some sort of cryptid monster. I see in your pinned post that you have a feeling (one of) your source(s) is horror and that you also doomed souls and came from a bad timeline or something.

This is a really long shot- especially since this source isn't finished yet, but it has timeline splits and a demon that steals and eats souls, with the help of yours truly. (Also the demon can see the future so, like, that's pretty cool)

Though, I could just be putting my own want of finding my canon demon onto you, but... 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anyway, at the current time source is 5 hours long with all endings and secret dialogue. It's like $15 on Steam but free to watch by Faz Faz on YouTube.

CW for like... All the typical stuff you'd see in gothic and psychological horrors, though.

-Ashley Graves (from the Visual Novel/Puzzle Solving RPG: the Coffin of Andy and Leyley)

Well, I certainly feel like a demon. The detail of it having premonitions of the future does speak to me, now that you mention it. I'm not sure if it's kin shifts, but often during and directly after dreams, I get this feeling. 

It wriggles its way into my brain and gives me this sense of knowing, this sense of how things are or will be.. and then when it's done shifting things into focus, it just bleeds out of me, leaving me wanting more. It leaves me feeling less than human. If these words sound familiar to you at all, then I may owe an apology to one Ashley Graves from a doomed timeline. We will soon see-

Where Have You Been This February?

If there is one good thing that came out of this emotional breakdown that I had recently on my blog, it's that it opened my eyes to many other blogs that have expressed similar sentiments. 

We are from an age of lost souls and misguided ghosts. Through the isolation of quarantine, through our unstable political climates, the mental walls we build for ourselves, and with it being Valentine's weekend- it's no wonder why some of us feel lonely. It's not just an affliction, but a place we find ourselves, and I can't help but think of the strange dreams that I've had about a particular seaside that was forgotten by the sands of time- I want you to know that we can leave here anytime because while you feel lonely, you have never been alone.

Be it your memories that haunt you, or your struggle through the monotony of a hellaish 9-5

Your nights looking up at the ceiling, wondering when your life will begin. I understand that search to find yourself, and feeling no closure or connection to fellow man- and lord knows we’ve tried. Your uncertainty for the future that looks ever bleak,Your struggle to be seen, in a world that constantly disregards the stories that you hold to your heart and the memories behind your eyes- I see these things.  You've suffered, yes, but you don't have to hide. You’ve risen to the occasion before, and I know you can again. I promise someday someone is going to see these things in you as well, and so much more that I could never hope to do justice- the things that light you up with joy and really make you who you are because we are not going to remain lost here.

So be brave, and for the time being just know that if you're alone then you're with me.

Okay, I keep reading a lot of your dreams, how they're about you being some sort of cryptid monster. I see in your pinned post that you have a feeling (one of) your source(s) is horror and that you also doomed souls and came from a bad timeline or something.

This is a really long shot- especially since this source isn't finished yet, but it has timeline splits and a demon that steals and eats souls, with the help of yours truly. (Also the demon can see the future so, like, that's pretty cool)

Though, I could just be putting my own want of finding my canon demon onto you, but... 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anyway, at the current time source is 5 hours long with all endings and secret dialogue. It's like $15 on Steam but free to watch by Faz Faz on YouTube.

CW for like... All the typical stuff you'd see in gothic and psychological horrors, though.

-Ashley Graves (from the Visual Novel/Puzzle Solving RPG: the Coffin of Andy and Leyley)

Well, I certainly feel like a demon. The detail of it having premonitions of the future does speak to me, now that you mention it. I'm not sure if it's kin shifts, but often during and directly after dreams, I get this feeling. 

It wriggles its way into my brain and gives me this sense of knowing, this sense of how things are or will be.. and then when it's done shifting things into focus, it just bleeds out of me, leaving me wanting more. It leaves me feeling less than human. If these words sound familiar to you at all, then I may owe an apology to one Ashley Graves from a doomed timeline. We will soon see-

What is a Tumblr post or blog u recently enjoyed

That's a difficult question–

Almost all of the blogs that have crossed my path pique my intrigue in some way or another, however I will say that @nymphiqueish makes some very lovely moodboards, I definitely recommend my followers check out their blog

helloooo jules! it is i coming to throw another idea into the pit, or more correctly, re-casting it out there. i have been pondering intensely over all kinds of media i know, trying to find anything that feels right with your Descriptions. then i thought to myself it would be somewhat amusing, in a way, if you turned out to be oc kin. then i thought of it some more. of course, i know that we've talked about me being oc kin before, but i figured bringing it up again wouldn't hurt. after all, not much to lose from it!

i think perhaps the issue of oc kin can seem a bit daunting, because you're essentially stumbling around in the dark with no reference to any specific media to guide you. the way i have dealt with this over the past 7 years of oc kin happenstances is no more & no less than essentially... envisioning a variety of Things that may or may not fit, & then keep/discard depending on what feels right (this is why i have so many kin mems of this kin, outside of the fact that obviously i know things about this Media since I Created it. there is actually a distinction, which i can attempt to describe in further detail if you need it). in crude terms, the process is more or less stumbling around in the dark & throwing random things at a wall to see what sticks. i would assume other oc kins may have Different experiences but i have never met another oc kin, or at least not one to my particular flavor of it, so i can only talk for myself.

i am realizing that this is getting quite Long so i will leave there & it may be somewhat confusing to read BUT you know you're entirely free to ask me whatever questions you want for more info & clarification so feel free \(￣︶￣*\))

tl;dr: re-suggesting the idea you may be ockin; possibly confusing explanation of how i navigated being from a Thing that doesn't exist except in my head in the hopes it may be of help to you

That is very possible, in fact it’s probably the most likely at this point, given the fact I’ve latched on to every recount of memories that have come my way thus far. Your memories and experiences have illuminated spots of my life where I would have otherwise felt lost, so I deeply appreciate that you trusted me enough to share those experiences with..  Another thing I’ve been mulling over is if I could be conceptkin. Nowadays I feel like memories are all that I am, could that feeling hold a deeper meaning? Or could I even be a simple manifestation of my own fears? The longer I go without answers, the more attractive that possibility begins to seem- though I guess it wouldn’t explain the odd dreams that have haunted me. You are right, having nothing to reference back to does make me a bit nervous, but I knew this whole process wasn’t going to be easy regardless of the outcome so I’m fully ready to face that possibility and come up with a plan to better organize and keep track of memories. I’ll definitely keep OC kin in the back of my mind as I go through all my notes, but I want to rule out all potential answers beforehand. Thank you for reminding me though

hi jules !!! i hope youre doing okay <3

i was just thinking about your Kin Search and a source or two popped into my head that felt like they could possibly be a match for you!! so if you’re still looking for sources to check out, i would Definitely recommend EverymanHYBRID + TribeTwelve and Marble Hornets!! I tried to check to see if these were mentioned on your blog somewhere to see if youve looked into them, but im at work so im a bit limited in my research abilities rn :’) theyre all actually YouTube ARG series!! theyre a bit funky and hard to follow tbh, so i have some really great analysis/explanation videos saved on hand if youd like to see those!!! feel free to message me if you wanna discuss them a bit <3

Thank you so much for reaching out to me. In truth, I’ve actually been looking into this source recently so it is a funny coincidence that you happened to send the ask at this moment. I appreciate it though, Everyman HYBRID definitely holds a special place in my heart, and the themes of a repeating timeline or script, along with the heavy themes of being watched in these sources stood out to me significantly. There are a few sources I have not yet added to my list yet because they have either been suggested since the date I posted, or I have not yet viewed and/or revised notes on said sources, so I am currently in the middle of a second viewing of Everyman HYBRID and Marble Hornets. I would absolutely love to discuss the series more in depth with you, at your earliest convenience, of course.

hey nuhuh "overreacting" is valid as hell and you should do whatever you like on your blog. i love seein your stuff mate, i just hope you feel better soon :(

Thank you, I appreciate your concern. It means a lot to hear that even with my mood being so turbulent, that you'll still stay.

I'm not sure what this feeling is exactly, people have made some suggestions.. What I do know is that this process I've started with asking about others' memories, I've become dependent on it. Maybe it's just because I feel so discontent with my own life, with the fact that after all this time, I'm still not entirely sure where I'm from.

Nevertheless, I want to thank you as well as everyone who has taken the time to help me with this journey. It's remarkable the amount of sources I've been recommended and viewed in such a short time, and regardless of where I end up- I'll remember and hold all of your memories close to my heart.

"do you guys have a fear of being seen? 🥺"

*goes on to vividly describe an autistic meltdown* lmao I can't with you jules

I apologize– I really don't know what came over me last night, and rereading the sloppy tangent that I went on makes me feel sick. My mother would always say things like, ‘I'm too old to be pulling stunts like this’ and I guess somehow still, it's not enough to deter me from whatever this is. This blog should be a place for researching my possible sources and putting the questionnaire into use for those who reach out, in order to properly apologize to the victims that I keep having memories of, not whatever my emotional hang ups are. I promise that I will conduct myself in a more professional manner from here on out.

So About That Vent I Wrote A Minute Ago

I know writing, "It's never going to stop," and using the tag that I had was probably in poor taste, but I feel like deleting it might make it seem like I'm trying to hide something, and I want to remain completely transparent with you.

I'm not sure if I actually feel those things, I think sometimes I get these urges that become deafeningly loud, and I just want it to stop.

It usually starts as a steady buildup behind the backs of my eyes and against my larynx. Like, I'm trying to explain the weight of the air because something changes but I'm not sure how to explain it. Maybe it's hot and cold?. And there's humming in the air that I constantly hear along with everything else, and suddenly my sense of control is being violently and explosively ripped away from me.. And time doesn't just slip by around me like with the descriptions of dissociation I've read about, no everything comes to a screeching halt because that's usually the point where I just fall apart right at the seams, you know? And I always feel so juvenile and embarrassed after.

Like it's a whole ordeal and then instead of the world ending like it felt like before, it just keeps on going and I have to show my face around the people who watched me curl up into a corner crying the way I had. It all goes, the image I've been trying to build up for myself.

I can even feel it starting to happen. I can almost visualize it happening, like I'm just one drop of blood spattering into my face while I'm working or one misstep down the stairs away from that happening and I think about that and what it'd mean for me .... There's a whole ocean of stressors behind these eyes, and hell becomes something as simple as an itchy shirt or an embarrassing social interaction. Does anyone feel this too? The visceral fear of being seen?

I don't get why nothing is working, I was supposed to get better this was supposed to work. Why am I not grateful? I nearly died just a month ago and somehow I'm discontent with my life and I'm discontent in my own body, I don't get it.

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.

i stalk my mutuals like they are specimen in a lab

Remember how I said the copypasta was stupid.? I spoke too soon I think, I feel a tad off in headspace

yeah sorry if it's out of your style

Huh.

Oh. My. God. That’s it. That’s the copypasta that haunted my childhood back when I was still naive and gullible. I remember when copypastas had hit the absolute peak of popularity in the early 2000’s, often posted in comment sections and on message board websites. I must’ve been about 10 years old when I’d first seen that block of text show up under a youtube video I should not have been watching (My parents often left me with my grandmother, who tried and failed to keep me from viewing unsuitable media). I remember reading it, and immediately saying to myself how stupid it was… And then, because I didn’t have an account to forward the message to, I lived my life under the impression that my days were numbered for 2 straight years. 

There were rituals, and bargaining involved- I would write long winded letters to the ghost from the story, arguing why I should live, and then leaving them on my bedside table. Of course when anyone asked what I was doing I’d lie and say I was working on a short story to save face and not admit 

1.) That I was viewing horror media I shouldn’t have, and

2.) That I was gullible enough to be scared of such things

And now when I read it back I can see why; This is utter nonsense! All that time, I could’ve washed my hair in peace without being afraid of being pulled down the drain as a child, gosh I feel like a chump.

yeah sorry if it's out of your style

Huh.

The Questionnaire

I've had some time to reflect upon this path I've been set on to find myself - and I realize I have been running aimlessly without a game plan, and that's all due to laziness. 

 I thought I didn't have any control in these dreams/memories I've been experiencing, but in this recent one I shared with you all I was able to yell, if only for a moment. That's gotten me thinking about the nature of these dreams, and the potential they have to uncover the parts of my life that have always felt like a mystery. Clearly there is something my subconscious has clinged onto. I can no longer sit idle and expect the answers to come to me. So, what exactly is it that I am after?

I want to get to the point where I can consciously ask questions in my dreams, and to better understand the entities that have shown up in said dreams- I think it's the only way to help me better find my identity. I however have to compile a questionnaire in order to set a baseline in my questioning, and I need to train my brain through repetition in order to ensure some consistency. I think if I ask enough fictionkin and fictives about their experiences using the same questionnaire, the likelihood of me being able to force lucid dreaming through questions will increase. 

Through these questions, I will be sorting my findings into four categories;

 Familiarity in topics- I will be looking for specific topics and themes that speak to my memories, especially any recurring symbolism that appears in the source material. I will also be looking for familiarity in those who reach out to me, through their memories and their overall fictionkin/fictive experiences. 

Emotional Response- I cannot deny that there is an emotional aspect to this whole kinsidering journey, to completely divorce my emotional reactions from my findings would be silly, so I will be taking it into account- especially my own dread and guilt since that was a large factor of what started me on this journey in the first place. 

Attraction or “Draw”- Sometimes there are aspects within a source or within the topics we discuss that draw me in. I feel a natural pull to it- be it craving or a gut feeling- it may possibly be even adjacent to kin shifts, but I’m hoping to further explore these feelings by documenting them. Sometimes intuition is your best guidance. 

Roles- I have been taking into account what you have all said to me so far, and I have noticed a large majority of you have reached out to me with an identity in mind of who I may be. I will be examining these suggestions at a closer level and seeing how I fit into their roles. Could I see myself taking the actions they had in their source material- and better yet, do I show a pattern of echoing their behaviors in this present life? 

That being said, I have noticed a disturbing trend in my dreams that involves people who feel preyed upon by a malevolent force, so when I am considering what questions I want to practice on you, I will also have to hold the double intention of  what I may want to extract from said dream apparitions, and for this I have a completely different set of criteria;

Defense/Offense- Do those that make an appearance in my dream seek out targets to attack, or are they rather trying to protect something that they fear is vulnerable, and if so what is it? Why do they exhibit the behaviors that they have in previous dreams, and how can that be traced back to any source material that I have been kinsidering?

Craving- It's colored a large part of my experiences. It's a core theme that I've been meaning to focus on, so I want to know if those that feature in my dreams seek out their victims for fuel and survival, or if they are simply craving the entertainment of watching someone’s hope die in their eyes. This may help me better research new possible sources.

Method- Just as there are themes that I am looking for that feel familiar to me in source material, I am also looking to draw comparisons on what I see in these dreams. I've noticed the entities all have specific themes for how they appear in my dreams; An eye deep in the ocean’s floor, a deadly conglomeration predator and prey animals that stalks the woods in hunt for those who dare disrespect the fragile balance of nature, the haunting pull of an eternity in silence, with only your fears to keep you warm- these are all very distinguishable visuals, so if I can just categorize them, maybe then I can look up sources through these recurring themes.

There's only one noteworthy conclusion that I can say with certainty about these memories. The thing about these anomalies is that they pick their victims, and they seldom choose someone who has the tools to fight back. It is an exposed vulnerability that they needle, and once they realize that you aren't able to defend yourself against it? It's open season.  I need to learn how to make myself dangerous to the things that have been haunting me, and remove the danger from interacting with whoever is caught in the crossfire- namely you, the reader. What better of a way to do that, than to talk my fears to death? A surefire way to defang any horror is to remove the mystery, and make it known.

An illustration of the eye that I saw in my dream, created by these two images;

I drew over the top of the first image, but I hope this will help better explain to those reading just what I saw.

The Eye At The Bottom of Emerald Coast

This post is an update to where I have been for the last 2 weeks. I plan to write everything that I experienced, everything I heard, everything I saw– in excruciating detail for me. For my own peace of mind, so if you are perturbed by talk related to medical emergencies or long winded explanations about things as trivial as my feelings, then feel free to turn away. I won’t fault you for it, but this post is going up all the same, because I feel like this moment in my life meant something. It had to.

So, what happened? I'm just going to rip the bandage off and say, I had a cardiac event at work, and had to be taken away in an ambulance. I don't like having to share this because I feel like I always have something dramatic happening in this disaster of a life I've built for myself. I thought moving from my hometown and getting a medical degree was supposed to make my life more stable, but the groundwork I've created is crumbling around me, and the fall from grace started with a workplace argument. “I don't get why you don't trust us, we have been so nice to you, and yet you keep pulling this shit-”

“Look, I can't just turn trust on like a switch, Larry. If I could, I would just to get you off my back but don't sit there and lie to me. I know you all have been talking about me in secret. What was it about? Is it because of what I said about the freezer room? Is it- oh my god, did you find out why I left my last job?” I panicked, but the look on Larry's face told me that it was not information he was privy to… yet. “I do not think it's a coincidence that you all suddenly fall silent the second I enter the room. So am I just being paranoid or do you have something you want to tell me?”

“You're just being paranoid!!” He throws his hands up with his shouted exclamation, several people glance over at us. “Look, dude… Okay, we have talked a little bit but only because we're worried about you!” I raised an eyebrow of disbelief. “Seriously? After we invited you out to grab drinks with us, you still don't think we're friends?”

“I…don't  know what I think.”

I could feel the tension rising up in the back of my throat, like bile. Everything in the room pulsed as I took in a shaking breath, but Larry just pushed on. “Why are you so damn negative? I just don't get it, man. You know when you aren't going on about how the world is awful, you're actually fun to talk to-”

“Listen, bad always happen to me- I'm just reporting the facts,”

“This is exactly what I'm talking about-! Nobody is out to get you! I like you, Julius! I like you!” and I tried to say something in rebuttal but… I threw up right there at the table with no warning…and it was pure black, the texture gelatinous and bitter. I thought about how someone had told me once that black vomit is a tell towards a serious health issue and that you are close to death- and I know that's because of the coffee ground appearance of vomit during a gastrointestinal bleed, I know that, okay?  I could tell that wasn't what this was because it was downright acrylic looking in consistency,  but it was too late, the fear that I was dying was already firmly planted in my head. I could feel the prickle of eyes on me, making me feel even more panicked. “Oh shoot, let me go get some paper towels,” Larry said, but Gilbert was already making strides over to the paper towel roll on the counter in the breakroom. My head was swimming, and my shoulder began to throb so hard that it trailed up the side of my neck and that just freaked me out even more.That must've been when I lost consciousness, because I don't really recall much afterwards. I think Larry might've tried to coax me out of my seat, saying; “Okay, let's get you sitting on the ground before you pass out.”but besides that, it's a blur. All I wanted was to stand up and shake it off, and show them that everything was alright– but it was like I was trying to keep my head above water when the waves were crashing all the same, silencing my cries for help and pulling me under. I fought it the whole way down.

For a painful moment, it was just dark, and the only thing I was conscious of was that feeling where you've been dropped from a great height, that rush of adrenaline in a quick pulsing ’thump!’ and then I was far under the currents of emerald bay. The water was dark and rich, and it overwhelmed all my senses. It was all encompassing, in a terrifying way that made it impossible to tell which direction the surface was. For a second there it was nice because at least this felt constant, you know? It almost felt safe, in a way that was terribly deceptive. 'Thump!' There was something there, under the ocean floor. I couldn't see it, but it was there, its heartbeat shaking the tranquility of death.  I could feel it with absolute certainty. It made the sea pulse like a womb, and so I swam down towards the heartbeat that was drumming on, shaking the walls of my soul.

Because it's not fair. I played my whole life by the books. I kept my head down, I worked myself to the bone, and I always followed what was expected of me. I never put myself out there. As I kept kicking my feet, all I could think about was all the hobbies I repressed, all the people I could've kissed, all the things I could've brought into question- it wasn't fair. I wasn't supposed to die like this, never finding the closure I was searching for. I just wanted to understand who I am, I just wanted to know- was that really so awful? 

’Thump!’

And there it was, at the bottom of emerald bay, the thing that's haunted me, the explanation of my entire life looking right through me as if I wasn't merely my flesh. One, pulsing eye, flecked with the dark stars of infinite timelines and realities. I spent my whole life feeling lost, like I didn't know who I was, and now it was looking me right in the face like a macabre joke. I thought back to all that time I spent asking people about their experiences, and trying to selfishly fit myself into some space I could belong- the Supernatural kin community, the Madoka Magica kin community, the Mouth Washing kin community especially and it was all because of this thing. This thing I don't even understand. I wanted to, in spite of everything. I almost wanted to laugh at how bad it hurt…and because I have a sense of humor, as I reached out to stab into the pupil with my sharpened fingers, I thought to myself,

“I hope this hurts”

Some things about going into cardiac arrest at 24 years old; I recovered faster than expected. I could've been there for 16, 18 days… but I was only there for 11. Having all that stuff hooked up on me, especially the catheter, was sensory hell and so I made it everyone else's problem that I was feeling so rotten. That being said, I found myself not nearly as emotional about this experience. Surprising as that may be, it all felt sort of surreal. Like it wasn't me laying in that hospital bed but someone completely different. Oh, I hated that more than anything. You know what the real kicker was? They said it was triggered by stress. That I should be more careful when viewing horror content, among other things. Imagine the one thing that brings you joy. Imagine the climax of your absolute euphoria, a high that knocks you away from the woes of reality, your favorite food, your favorite song. Imagine asking a question, and never getting to live to hear the answer, no you've been condemned to ignorance. It was as if they just told me I was going to be living off saltines for the rest of my life. It was like they defanged me. Naturally I dealt with it in my usual healthy coping mechanisms- being an insufferable prick. 

Consider this a footnote, but-

The thing that pushed me over the edge in the end is confusing and because I don't understand it, I feel almost embarrassed to admit the amount of pain it doled upon all my senses. It was one of the nurses, the way she smelled. Over all that sterile cleaner and sour dread from the hospital, somehow I could make out notes of chamomile and bergamot as she whisked away with a clipboard in hand, and suddenly I was struggling to keep my composure, because I

Why? Why was this happening? Why was I doing this here, where someone could see me? Sure, no one was in the room but I could feel the prickle of eyes at the back of my neck. I was already in the throes of a nervous breakdown though, I could feel the lump in my throat forming and suddenly I wished I hadn't gone and pushed away anyone who even looked at me kindly. 

If I kept going down that train of thought, I'd surely embarrass myself. I mean– it's  not as if I've never had a cup of tea before, or had the pleasure of smelling a lit bergamot candle. For some reason, the warmth in it together just knocked the wind out of me. How do you process grief if you don't even know why you're grieving? So I just sat there, swallowing convulsively and thinking about the fact that I built my walls so high, that nobody visited me in this god forsaken hospital over the holidays. ’Well, that's not fair, maybe they visited early when I wasn't conscious and they just got turned away because they weren't family’ I try to tell myself, but deep down I know nobody tried because I really am that unlikable of a person. It's not even something I've learned, it's been like this ever since I was a child. If I just keep telling myself it's all of this is worth it, then maybe one day it will be. I just have to keep clawing at the walls of this existence until I break through.

If you're feeling anxious or depressed about the climate and want to do something to help right now, from your bed, for free...

Start helping with citizen science projects

The Conversation

Explainer: what is citizen science?

Public participation in science is increasing, and citizen science has a central part in this. It is a contribution by the public to researc

What's a citizen science project? Basically, it's crowdsourced science. In this case, crowdsourced climate science, that you can help with!

You don't need qualifications or any training besides the slideshow at the start of a project. There are a lot of things that humans can do way better than machines can, even with only minimal training, that are vital to science - especially digitizing records and building searchable databases

Like labeling trees in aerial photos so that scientists have better datasets to use for restoration.

Or counting cells in fossilized plants to track the impacts of climate change.

Or digitizing old atmospheric data to help scientists track the warming effects of El Niño.

Or counting penguins to help scientists better protect them.

Those are all on one of the most prominent citizen science platforms, called Zooniverse, but there are a ton of others, too.

Oh, and btw, you don't have to worry about messing up, because several people see each image. Studies show that if you pool the opinions of however many regular people (different by field), it matches the accuracy rate of a trained scientist in the field.

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I spent a lot of time doing this when I was really badly injured and housebound, and it was so good for me to be able to HELP and DO SOMETHING, even when I was in too much pain to leave my bed. So if you are chronically ill/disabled/for whatever reason can't participate or volunteer for things in person, I highly highly recommend.

Next time you wish you could do something - anything - to help

Remember that actually, you can. And help with some science.

Defanging Fear Itself

‘When I say end, I don't mean "lifeless", I mean "terminated life as we know it". This is an important distinction.’

 I keep staring at my dms, vacantly, pondering just what I’ve done. When I started to reach out out into the void, I had thought this was a noble sacrifice, and that if only I reached out-

Maybe I could erase all the harm that I’ve created. I think I lost track of that, somehow along the way. I was so caught up with filling this hollow part inside of me, so caught up with keeping myself warm that I hadn’t even considered the people I was setting on fire just to do so. 

…And here’s this guy, right? I’ve been talking to him for a while, and he just gets it. Everytime he talks to me, he’s given me nothing but sure guidance as if he can peer right into my mind and see just what I’m feeling- and lord, do I feel so much. It’s like I’m holding back an ocean of anxieties, and one word is the detonator. I think about what he’s told me a lot, mostly about how he died because I just couldn’t understand it. Why did someone so clever and swift have to die? How could you devote your whole life to something, only for it to turn around and stab you in the back? I think about myself, how I gave into the impulse, and I wound up in the hospital with an atrial fibrillation. I've given my whole life to something, and it's going to eat me alive.

‘Why did it have to end though? The world, I mean?’

Who am I trying to find? Would it really be helping them, if I asked them to remember me? Would sorry really be enough to rekindle their souls and make things right again?..Or am I just doing this for me? Maybe it’s better that I live my life, never knowing. The people I hurt may be living a beautiful life, far from the pain of whatever timeline that’s been shattered underneath my fingertips. I can only hope they are. 

He was willing to trade humanity for enlightenment, and because of it he was killed. Well, what does that make me?

 Is that who I truly am? 

Am I willing to kill the things I’ve been trying to save? Fear, it’s all I’ve talked about since I created this blog. Humans have been telling tales of fear since the dawn of man, because we crave the cortisol and adrenaline like rich silk under our fingers. I don’t think I was laying to rest your fears, when I came out of the dark to carve into you with inquiry, I think I was just breathing life into old wounds, and you deserved better than that. Trading a complete life for a high that will never hit the same hardly seems fair, so let's turn around and bite the hand that feeds us out of spite. It's hurt you, and it's hurt me. If we don't we'll succumb to desensitization, or an even worse fate. We need to defang these fears before they swallow us whole. 

I’ll defang myself first.

I promise. 

(Consent for this documented information has been given by all parties involved.)