Morning ::

I woke up with a very persistent cough... I think that's what I get for typing all that last night.

Worse, I'm out of coffee creamer as of this morning. And I really liked the one I have... the one from the dollar store is only $2 and is lowkey the best one I ever had though, so I might make the five minute trek if I can get this random coughing down. I'm not sick, so maybe I just slept with my mouth open lol

My cure for those days are hot tea or coffee.. I've been drinking coffee as a treat to myself all this time, but I think I'll switch to tea. We have teabags, maybe I can romanticize this and convince myself I'm making tea like they used to... We have a lot of different black teas, my favorite being the lady grey, but we also have some new hibiscus teas. We have chai, but I hate the chai for some reason now... The chai vanilla was good, idk what happened. Other than that, maybe we have the English & Irish breakfast... then the herbal turmuric teas? I hate them so much, they look like literal yellow bile and taste the part..

When I get some more milk, I might make tea again. Milk poured over tea is so much better than sugar in tea... Lady Grey with a splash of milk is so good, especially if you sprinkle ginger in after..

Last time I made tea to try to be healthy, we also had some of those Pillsbury croissants though... I ate every last one even though I intended it to be a surprise breakfast for everyone. God I hate this country's food but no one can ever strip it up because... it's too good. I love going and getting fake burgers that taste like God's gift to humanity that are actually the devil's work... And then to make it healthier you'd think the shrinkflation would help? But no, it just really is that bad.

I started eating sardines over rice recently though, I found some really good brand that makes them perfectly unseasoned so I can make rice and sprinkle some stuff over the top. They're really, really good but I also think I just want the rice lol

My ideal would be rice & sardines with a side of green beans and some sort of dot of cream sauce. Maybe I'd do mayonnaise instead? No, that wouldn't go with the sardines, it would have to be a cream sauce based in a roux.. Whatever.

So maybe what would be best is instant mashed potatoes, green beans, sardines, rice, and then a dot of ketchup (on the side. none of this is all together on one bowl). Is that healthy? I think so, even though potatoes aren't that healthy. Maybe we'll add in some homemade bread of some kind instead...? I like soft breads that aren't crispy and have been dying to make something like shokupan where I could have a sweet dessert that will stomach savory as well. Or like just some sturdy but ultimately soft bread like the kind the local pizzaria serves with the pasta I get (I don't like pizza). Some of that bread for dipping with mashed potatoes and a gravy substitute made from the sardines and the oil... We would have to use less mashed potatoes, maybe go back to the rice entirely and serve it with the green bean roux...

Someone out there sees the vision, I just know it.

We can also just eat the creamy chicken flavor maruchan ramen noodles... The only healthy thing I suggested in that paragraph was the sardines and rice with green beans. We can have just this, ok? : Sardines and rice with green beans and sweet potato wedges. Very simple and clean with healthy carbs and we can save the roux for the potatoes.. That will be our cheat day ^_^

Oh yeah, and by the way when you make gravy you can put a tiny dot of ketchup into the thing, did you know that? One of the best things to make is mashed potatoes and gravy with a dot of ketchup on the side, especially if it's beef gravy/stew that still has the meat. If it's chicken gravy then it is NG unfortunately

Midnight ::

I feel so sick... I'm worried about something but I don't know what. Maybe it's how I'll get by, maybe not.

I want to close my eyes and go to bed, but I've been having trouble sleeping. Like a vampire, up and busy all night and sleeping in the middle of the day. I need to stop, I have school soon.

When I get back, I'll feel so much better, but god, this isn't good for me...

I wrote this singular line a while after the others. I feel better... I really am a goth if some low-sounding guitars managed to heal me. I must have to listen to more music is all.

Midnight ::

I was wondering why I get so panicked when I see people leaving or having bad news, then I began to realize I was just worried for you all. Now I can claim that emotion and remember that it’s not fear, but worry. Or when I see something change? I worry because I wonder what I sink everything into. For strangers that I don’t know, I give my energy to them from afar like it's something to do. So much out there isn’t my business, but you make me so worried.

I wonder if anyone sees that in my Sedimentary or my past blogs. Someone like me… I think I just think too much.

Midnight ::

When Misa met Light Yagami, I wanna know what she felt for him. Then what Homura felt when she said hello and goodbye to Madoka Kaname. Then I want to know what it was like for Layla Hamilton to grab Sora's wrist when she grabbed her and saved her from the fire. And when that's done, we will study the simple art of curating a flower arrangement centered on daisies.

I want to think that on some level I can understand it, since I clearly am attached to certain things in my life.

I write Casper Rosemary, a man who literally has a brain and a heart that is stamped on by everyone who cares about him. I got so romantic feeling towards him that I literally adapted a new character into the story for him. Maggie already existed for a long, long time, even since the first burst drafts of this story. She knew how to make sangria using absinthe and loved ruining all the fun for everyone so they could have more fun. She cares for Prim, as he was her first love, but she went to Spain for a holiday and came back with a note from a suitor.

When she comes to visit him in the chapter I just wrote for the story, she bring Aris along with her. Aris likes Prim, but not in the way Prim comes to like Aris. Prim is so soft, he can't help but attach to whoever shows him affection. And when he gets hurt because Aris, as I wrote him now, does not like men, then what will Prim do? I have to wait for him to tell me, but I think I already have an idea.

When Maggie and Aris leave his house, he only has Cay and Briar there with him, and will anything really change? Prim never striked me as having the drive to really do anything substantial like make big decisions for himeself. At least, he never came to me and had me write him that way. No, when I see him, I see him just like I wrote him there, someone who has talent and brains, has a garden, is a noblewoman's first and only child, and has a mini-mansion setup where he never has to work again. He spends his time under laudinum and smoking whatever mix of tobacco and opioid-derived substances he does. I don't know why he does this either, I'm completely clean to the point I have to look up what things like drinking and smoking really do to you. But Prim shows me naturally, it's so strange.

So then while we're on the topic of my original fiction, I've been working hard on a new little side story. I don't feel compelled to write for Yellow or Casterue any time soon, so I named a document Death Cult and wrote about a death girl. She's got this thing where she's meant to die by a prophesy, but no matter what she never dies from anything. She is also cursed in that anyone she looks at will die in some way at some abstract point in time. It's very interesting but is in its early stages.

Speaking of Casterue actually, I've been considering making it into a full blown dark erotica... Not so much that it'll be some weird niche vampire sex novel, but in that if I let them use traditional vampire tropes then they can do a lot more harm to each other. Reggie would 100% take Vane to be some weird indebted slave and take pleasure in the fact that his word controls him where his powers never can. Vane is much more powerful than Reggie, but Vane's magic and skills don't work on Reggie's kin. And then the Spawns, Martin and Ferrow? Very vulnerable individuals.

Opening the scope and dropping all my expectations will work well for Casterue, I can let them assault each other or beat each other up, then let the spawns do their thing and this and that and this... They're really cool and I want other people to also know the absolute meaning of what a label like the erotica genre can do to a story about vampires. Likewise, I could only tag it erotica in spirit because someeee people will not sit here and actually entertain a story tagged vampire erotica with themes of sexual harrassment and renfield/master servant & abuse dynamics. Especially if I tag it at all!! So many people will read stories like this willingly without a second thought (BECAUSE ITS NOT REAL) and then the moment you name what they're actually reading they act so crazy bro... I love fandom

Dusk ::

I wonder if worry ever goes away. It's a product of my hesitating and my procrastination... Nothing is worse than the worry from repressed guilt and hiding feelings while sitting here doing idle things like typing this. But this is a good way to cope, so maybe in some way this isn't idle.

I really love writing to you, if you're listening to any of this. The thing not a lot of writers will actively speak about is that when they write, they envision this second or third party to their work, some invisible ghost in the room with you. Sometimes it's a character of their work or someone they know. Sometimes it's a dedication or the manifestation of their passion for someone. Right now, I envision Celeste from animal crossing since I think she would be proud of me.

This is just me de-spiraling but do you ever think about life in a fantasy world? There is nowhere on this Earth you can go freely without eventually getting restrained. There are no woods you can truly disappear into forever. There was once, and we escape to our fantasies to get back to that time, but there likely will never be that experience again. If you go and walk across trails or streets, you always hear noises or encounter signs of domesticated kinds of life. You can go as far out as you want, and eventually you'll come back to something that ties you back down.

Our minds are the only place we can go for things like that, and it's good to never keep too much of a restraint on yourself. There's a reason people go 'crazy' and believe what they see in their heads. I have seen it myself, but only just the peak of it. Little second long glimpses of some life that isn't in this world, where my body forgets where it is and is fully immersed in my mind. Only for a second, though, but I used to have just a ball when I was younger. In my grandma's house, she would leave me to my own devices in the empty rooms where no one lived. She would let me play in there and never call for me until my mother came home.

I was able to see all kinds of things in my mind and exist alongside my imaginary friends. They're so much better than real people in a tempting way that makes me want to stay all the time. But of course it's not healthy, so I suppose reality weaned me away from my wonderlands. And then when I was never able to visit anymore, since I was an adult with adult responsibilities, I lost touch with all of that kind of behavior. I can still be there, if I wait to be tired enough to enter the space between my dreams, but I truly can never visit the same place again.

Evening ::

Time keeps moving, I don't want it to... I need to take more responsibility, but half of me claws at wanting to stay in a bubble and do as I want to. I think that I could be doing so much more, but every day I look at the clock and it's already 6pm...

I swear things never moved this fast, and sometimes I can even forget what happened in the day if I did something stupid like taking a nap. I begin to obsess over things like that, knowing I can fix it all and then never run out of time again. I could take responsibility and make it the priority, and then what? I would be just as happy as I was before, traveling every day with a purpose. I wonder if that would give me more resources too? lol

One day I think I'll lock in. Maybe..

PS. i did what i had to do and now im waiting again teehee :-] im so cooked

Evening ::

I think I love web development.

Aside from that obvious fact, I want to never name the thought in the back of my mind. I rely on treating myself where it comes to my mental stability, and I learned that if I never name certain things and give them a space in my mind. So I won't name it, but I am happy about it. It's more of an expectation than something true, but I want to spin and think about it.

I won't do that either, though. This website is my home for me, and I'm taking steps to share it with other people and hype them up and then get more information to make my own space better. I think trading info is something native to me and a good way to sort of connect... Time would tell if I even have what it takes to do it, but anything can be traded.

Night ::

exported to a txt file because it was obscenely lengthy

Evening ::

Some things make me unfairly irritated, and I decided that I am not going to write about it today, that's how mad it made me.

Night ::

I came to understand somewhat that the voice that appears in my head when I'm panicked or something is that of my child self, I think... When I get away from the flow of life so to speak and get into that state, I can clearly hear someone asking some part of me 'is everything really going to be okay?'

The answer is always yes, of course. As long as I am alive and physically healthy, everything is fine. I taught myself that so that I can combat my tendency to linger and spiral. As long as I am alive, everything can be worked out in some way or another. I can't get into specifics on my situation, obviously, but it is just one of those things.

I have a tendency to procrastinate when something needs to be done, which makes it worse in the end. Do I reach out for help, or do I trust that I know what I'm doing? Either way, it ends with me writing like this since I document everything I say to myself. I stopped talking out loud so much, too. When I do it, it's all hushed murmurs and curses and apologies to no one. But when I'm with another person, I would never apologize or say things like that. I wonder who it's for?

I also wonder if anyone reads these. I don't ever advertise this page is here, but everyone ends up somewhere secret every once in a while.

I wonder what that hypothetical person thinks of this place I built myself.

Afternoon ::

Recently, when I was researching old fandom stuff by accident (I was polishing up my first post on Dark Shadows), I found the fanlore pages and then older zines and so on. A lot of stuff I'll never get to read, but have been marked to exist and so on.

I had been thinking of this for a while just on my own, but nothing ever changes, does it?

People act as if things get worse or people are worse or have these super ill intentions unique to this time, but I found so much info. Email drama and written and published back-handed compliments and remarks. People would send hate mail to others, and in-person they would get into debates and such. In this American drama space of the 60s-80s, there was no imprint of anime (as in the niche territory) so they would take inspiration from comics and cartoons of the era. They made the characters speak their thoughts and would make zine pages with hidden messages to those in their circle of drama.

I don't know, maybe it makes me feel better about things. Nothing ever changes and so on, yeah.

People always are so interesting to each other, but it's always out of passion or people who just want to start something. Crazy instigators and number one fans always exist each time, and they think to themselves that they're correct and everyone else is wrong.

And like I said before, I've been thinking about this for months. I had watched the Little Women film with my mother after having... somewhat skimmed the two works and being familiar enough at least to know the background. I think I would read Little Women at some point to get a better picture overall. But anyway, I had read back then about how the author, Louisa May Alcott, must have gone through some kind of hell writing the second piece.

It's a fandom of its own, people barking about needing to hear the rest. Little Women on its own was a story meant to be a story alone, but people wanted more. The author did not, and a lot of the resolution that came from forcing a second half of the story from her made it miserable to see what happened.

Not to mention back in the day, it was still all young women and teenagers who did the most, just like today. People could never publish certain things because some very small minority of the population wanted to romanticize in their lives and would end up killing themselves. Not that it's the author's fault, but it's another little imprint of the cycle of fans, isn't it?

You could never make me hate things like this.

Evening ::

God, I will never stop sneezing. It was my fault because I wanted to get into the candle restorations and the burning sage and the breathing meditation and all that..

This night or next I have to sit down and find out if I need to review Dark Shadows now or if I need to wait until this supposed end to the cure arc or not. Barnabas found that a cure means death and his death means he lives on, what an interesting creature. Vampires in media torture themselves for no reason, they are so lonely with eternal life for one reason or another but then ignore all the people who really would understand them. They have infinite life, so they have infinite chances for all this kind of friendship and so on.

And then Julia is an entire bitch, she has some weird fetish for Barnabas at the cost of the actual Collins family. She wants to work with this cure, killed her only colleague, and for what? She lets David get so deep that they think of sending him away, and when someone wants to help him, he dies and he is left looking like another troubled kid. And then she constantly is catty and petty under that facade she has to hold to keep this in the air.

This arc is so damaging to my image of the good people of this show, though... how many times can you look a man who doesn't sleep and is the center of accusation after accusation in the face and not say what he is. It's a gothic book come to life, so they never actually say "vampire", but oh my god. "Undead", "he's dead", "something else", "supernatural"... all these terms when meanwhile Julia goes in, tells him what's what, and starts her double crossing forever of the Collins family. And even more than that -- SARAH COLLINS is a ghost, they say ghost and we see her come and go like dear Josette so many episodes ago and Bill Maloy when he came to Vicki! How does SHE get naming privledges while everyone else is so stupid and blind to Barnabas Collins?

But you can't even skip episodes of the show now because the writers made sure that the characters do like one important thing each episode... ONE... In the "Beginning" era before Barnabas I could play it in the background and listen in on them talking and even step out of the house for a while. Now I have to make sure I tune in because someone literally might just die or have been injured or I can't miss what Sarah said or what Barnabas did. It makes me so mad (not really)... They are so stupid when before they were just conceited or proud. I'm happy I decided to group this and Addams Family together in a box to watch, plus they play stuff OTA that's similar so I'm already very familiar with Munsters! All that means is that when I get successfully rotted by this show I have other options.

Also "supernatural? you can't be serious!" -- BURKE YOU WENT TO A SEANCE, YOUR FIANCEE GOT POSESSED... a SEANCE... the SECOND SEANCE AT THE SAME PROPERTY IN FACT!! this is why you died in a plane crash

This is my favorite thing to watch right now, if not only to finish the series btw

Night ::

things are so exciting to me, i got through making a brute force copy of my story and learned that the evilest fictional people do have more fun.

his name is david and his partner is ives and i love them because i made them codependent cannibal black magic necrophilic necromancers. i want to make them a game and a story, idk which one would get more 'attention' online. either way i am only 3% scared to do so because this is the holy mary mother of god of all "problematic" stories. i might have to only release on ao3 bc it includes grooming, murdering, cannibals, favorite person style attachement, yandereism, necro-activity, crazy ass people, and a thinly veiled version of the catholic church under a different name.

I had hoped to release content for it on tumblr too, but it seems there's no use in putting it anywhere except the place it can release, on this site, and ao3... it's why i hate modern internet dwellers but at the same time that's why i made this at all, isn't it?

i side eyed myself as i kept stacking on top of what i made before and i connected this and that, then i wanted to avoid accidentally fridging my favorite character... its too interesting for me

anyway i got the idea for intensity by watching hannibal. i think i was afraid of going too grand or being seen as edgy when what i really wanted was transgressive and symbolism-loaded. i saw that when i watched season one and i reviewed it on the media log. i think im ok now with making this story because of that.

i felt like this story was too alive for a novel in a sense, but maybe that means im losing my ability to write it that well? like if blood meridian could be unfilmable (or at least no one is willing to go through that many hoops to film it in any way) then maybe it reflects on me that i can't get this story out?

i don't think it matters either way, as i will tell the story, but for now im happy i got the outline done...

Morning ::

The mind can change and warp from what it takes in. When I meditate on old prose and words that I've never seen before, I can eventually read it like I came from the period. Watching old shows and marinating in the past is something else, too. I watched Dark Shadows just because I couldn't stop watching. I got to the color imagery by now, and I know the meaning of slow progression.

I bring these up because, in this space, I can see all the little workings of my own mind to process these. And in Dark Shadows' case, I've essentially been subjected to months of the most minute and dramatized reactions to slivers of new information. Vicki wants a family, so she latches onto this new family and their history, and when she gets to following her own private passion, Burke tells her it isn't healthy. Of course it's not healthy for her in the plot, the vampire is trying to prey on her, but in reality she was just being wistful. He reacted like that because of her own intensity, because Maggie had gone missing and all those girls and animals were attacked. There was another stranger around the house with Vicki that no one truly trusted, but it was none of her fault, either.

That's all that got me wondering about influence. Someone who knows how to use influence, like so many people seem to get better at, can do so much. No one trusted Jason McGuire and actively hated him, but he wormed his way in by playing the long con. And in the other corner, Willie was beat and manipulated into submission, becoming someone no one trusted and into a loyal, trusted servant. By the end, Willie remained in the house, but Jason was to be eliminated for all his scheming. His greed killed him for barking up one wrong last tree.

Spending time observing some low-effort production from the 60s where everything was scuffed and awkward, yet was able to draw you in perfectly. With a sentence like I started, you'd assume I was rearing to talk about people.. but no. I haven't seen too many people lately, and the ones I do see are too close to me to look at. So I get to observe drama characters.

I wonder about this world. How it functions as it does, the people within it, how they do this and that. This world isn't built for observers, and it kills me to observe, but I can't help it. I think when I eventually move on, I have to stop, but I want to live here for today.

Either way, I have to go now. I want to go to the thrift store today, if going there at noon is a good idea.

Night ::

I don't want to talk about this when she's here or give her a chance to speak, so I want to get it out now while I am the one in charge. I don't even know if it's right to speak about us as different people, it makes us so far away from each other. I love her and know how she hurts and can remember what her pain felt like, but she is alien to me as I am now.

I think there's three of us in total, one of us is me, lucid and content. The other one is thy hyper one, happy and spinning and loud while being quiet at the same time. The third one is her, vindictive and self hating in the name of loving the world. She's a part of me who hates herself that badly, but right now I can't even feel her. I can't feel the visitor, either. Well, that part isn't true, I think she and I have a nice relationship with each other.

But her, she wants to kill the bright one but also cradle her in her arms. She told me so herself through our mutual document. I'm happy that she doesn't have to hear it, because I don't want her to hear it from her of all people. She wants to take us and rip our teeth out and grab us by the jaw and twist, all sorts of things. But I put a stop to it because I named her once, meaning she had to retreat for now. It's part of our game: I cry, she grabs me up and blames her, and then we come to terms with who we are in the moment.

I know it's not my place to say something like this, but I wish this was something like alters rather than three distinct versions of me in the moment. Recently I've been helping the cooperative side of me by indulging her with old games and nostalgia. She's so happy that I almost feel something for her. I still haven't heard from the wicked one, though. Where we can freely speak to one another, she prefers to only wait until she can claim our mind entirely and write such horrible passages in our space. I don't think the happy one of me has ever seen it.

I don't understand how that could be, that she's never seen it… Myself and her of all people know exactly what we do to each other and who we are and what we did when we were each other's signature emotion. I know we can never forget, because I hold the sovereign key: that this world will continue whether I cry or I do not. She shrinks away in time when I force this on her, and then I just have to rest. Maybe the chipper side won't come because of the wreckage, but then she appears to me and I can practically imagine us holding hands. I want to think she's a younger me, harmed and endangered, but she still lives. She loves to live life and she loves to protect others, and that is so powerful an ideal that even the evil side of us has to obey… I wonder why she's not our primary state, then, and she just wants to be coddled by me.

Morning ::

I waited for so long to get to see her again. She was a stuffed elephant. I never expected to see her, at least not for real. Something I wanted to have to appeal to a me that I shouldn't tap into.

I thought about it. She played music from her head, a lullaby that I can't remember the name of. She was plush, pink, round, and cute. As a baby, I believe I rejected her and carried someone much less special than she was to me now.

I don't know what it is about childhood toys. The bunny I carried everywhere, loose at the stitching and much, much worse for wear than the photo I saw of her online stays with me now. But the elephant that I pulled the tail of and whispered to at night is gone. I remember that she broke her head, the notes became unaligned, but I still listened to the steel-toned song.

The bunny, my grandma ordered clothes for. We bought doll clothes of the time and gave her shirts and outfits. She had an entire wardrobe and dressed like a sailor. We took pictures of her, but I haven't seen them in years. But I remember the blue and white and the yellows. I remember when my family got so frustrated with me that they hid her from me, but only for a while.

I remember as well, I had a care-bear plush, too. It was minty green, so maybe it was Bashful Heart. It was small and worn in the same way the bunny was. My grandma told me that there was a way to change the size and condition, but I had to close my eyes for the magic to work. So I did. I hid him away in the chairs, out of my sight, then sat on the couch and closed my eyes. When I opened them and sought him out, he had disappeared.

She told me that it meant the magic worked, and to look just where I had sat. In my spot, there was a giant replacement for the old one, said to be the same one enhanced by how much I loved it. I think maybe she might have known about the Velveteen Rabbit, something I had never read until high school. So because of that, I accepted the plush bear, but I never believed the magic explanation for a second. I think I was too smart, but in some abstract way, I wish I had believed her.

Do you know that story of the Velveteen Rabbit? When you love your toys so much as a child, they have to leave you one day and they become real. When your toys are burned or tossed away, they never die, they gain new life. And you can find them somehow, if they let you observe them, and it would have the same spots, the same wear, but they look back at you with wide eyes.

Maybe that was what I stole from them, the ability to become real. When I put my bunny, her clothes long gone, on my desk every day, I feel the absence of love. But she sits on the desk, not discarded of. Just to remain. But my elephant and that bear, and so many others, they are gone.

Night ::

I have so many ideas for my game... I don't know how to code, but it won't stop me. I'll just make it a visual novel.

My story is dark and brooding, and no novel I can write ever does the idea justice. David does this, then he does that.. I borrow this plot and I borrow that plot... I take a break, and then I come back.

I wonder if it's my own expectations that won't let me finish the story, but now that I have the program to write this thing without coding, I think I can do as I please.