Baralai's posts
Posted in EverEve - A passion project turn Book
Posted 2 years ago
reserved
Feel free to post
Feel free to post
Posted in EverEve - A passion project turn Book
Posted 2 years ago
reserved
Posted in EverEve - A passion project turn Book
Posted 2 years ago
reserved
Posted in EverEve - A passion project turn Book
Posted 2 years ago
Chapter Three: Part Three
The past six hours replaying over and over in his head. So much has happened and he has run out of time. Everything is telling him to jump. The tower, the watch, that guy, the static. What were those people? Monsters? And the ringing... It was like the ringing speaks to him.
All he needs to do is... jump.
There is a force that is pulling him. The vibrations nudging him. The noises lulling him. Closer. and closer.
You have outlived your use. Your time has been abruptly cut short. The sisters of fate, weaving their works. The winds behind him ebb as if to push him forward. A nudge and suggestion towards the edge of the cliff. Wherever he is, this fantastically horrific scene, it feels of death. Is he in Hell?
*Did I already die?*
He takes a step forward. Slow, and deliberate. His gaze staring a thousand miles into the void. A ruined world of grand castles and towers, roads and rivers. Covered with bodies. Some of them move and writhe. The dreary sound of moans from them being tortured fills the darkness. They are in agony.
Another step forward. He gulps down the lump in his throat. His heart palpitating. Growing sweaty. Does he really exist? Did he ever? Does he have a soul, or is he programmed to believe he does? His whole life, every moment has been a lie. Everything done to manipualte him, control him, and keep him docile.
The oh so familiar ringing starts in his head. So forceful it knocks him off balance as he stumbles even closer to the edge.
Then there is this *ringing* that has tortured him for as long as he could remember. No medication ever really helped. Plugging his ears, cupping his hands over them, nothing could ever really mute it. It originates from inside his head.
Music helps. The right song, lyrics, notes or chords can trigger guttural reactions within. Pluck your heart strings or move your soul. The vibrations open up hidden and forgotten pathways in our being. More than just our body, we have our mind, our heart, our spirit, and soul
He puts in his headphones, flicks his phone screen and finds the right song. One of his favorites that makes him *feel*. Feel something different. Like this song understands him. Not the words, for there are no words. It is an instrumental piece with an orchestra, and remixed into a deep house track. The violins tear his heart apart, the emotional guitar riffs, chords and sustains linger on his soul, teasing his spirit. Its a wave of emotions that seems to always change. In this moment, he feels...
whole.
He closes his eyes and lets the music in. A warmth grows inside him; Comfort. The ringing crescendos, but he is unfazed. He takes a deep inhale. With his eyes still closed, he opens his arms wide taking his final step forward. From the precipice he falls.
This feels right.
*Through death shall I be released*
He begins to fall into the darkness below, unable to see any surface. In this moment, every second feels like an eternity. He gains his upright posture as his toes begin to glow, then flood with fire like sparks.
"It burns"
He whispers to himself.
His feet begin to catch aflame as a meteor from the sky. From this fall he begins to burn up from toe to head. The flames turn white hot as he blazes down through the darkness.
A free falling flame tongue flickering.
All the darkness around turns to watch.
As if the whole realm of darkness is to bear witness to this.
A shattered memory, a forgotten scar reignited. And the whole realm, as a beast, recoils with a visceral shutter, reminded of the past. Something old reawakens.
The flames hiss, and the darkness seethes back.
He screams through the sky. Falling, and feeling every nerve burning, his skin cooking. The unbearable agony of this process throws him into shock. His screams are muffled by the flames and are reduce into nothingness.
From his toes up, the flames diminish as a white mannequin like figure emerges. dusty as the abandoned buildings his nightmares always place him, and rigid like a statue. Turning into dust as the winds whip and the force erodes him apart. Before his remains ever hit the ground. A white mist like powder snows down as ash in his place. Finally reaching the bottom.
Calcination.
Albedo.
Posted in EverEve - A passion project turn Book
Posted 2 years ago
Chapter One: Part One
"No one talks about the cicadas. Their constant high pitched droning is so integrated into their brain that it raises no questions or internal alarms. Its crazy! And im the one freaking out feeling crazy for paying attention to them? (interobang) I was so afraid to ask about them growing up because I thought it would just prove my insanity. The disintegration of my mental foundation before it ever got the chance to fully develop."
Inhale.
Exhale.
"THE TREES ARE SCREAMING AND NO ONE IS REACTING!" He takes moment, realizing his anger flaring up. "The trees are screaming and Im terrified to say anything. I'll just live my little naive childish life for the short stint it has until this metaphorical tumor has applied enough pressure on my brain - which in my mind was the reason for the constant ringing - causing me to seize up and die. The ringing is too much."
He threw himself back into the papasan, pitching it back a hair short of collapsing to the ground. He flailed to catch his balance.
"You call it tinnitus, but Im not convinced. It controls me. It influences me. Sometimes it'll hit so hard, it'll knock me off balance. Its like being shot in the head with a pressurized bass. Almost like for a second, I'm hitting metaphorical, ephemeral waters and then my insides are rushing with the current. The water and pressure rushing your ears. I can breathe, but I feel like im drowing." He looked down at his now crossed legs resting in the half dome of the chair, then throws his face into his hands, as if about to burst into tears.
"I've started trying something new. I remember reading somewhere, someone would meditate on the constant ringing they hear. Like its a message from the heavens. A message from higher up trying to communicate. Maybe its just the universal frequency? The akashik records? When I listen long enough, the high pitched string splinters into a smaller chorus, with individual notes and if I focus long enough, its like I can reach out and pluck it, like that of a harp. Are these the strings guiding me?"
"Do we really have any control? These noises control me. They drive me to a madness I never knew possible. I dont understand. I dont understand and I NEED" - he forces his fists to his temples - "to understand..."
Inhale
Exhale
"And then there's the nightmares. They dont stop. Why do they repeat? These scenes plague my unconscious and subconscious mind and I dont know what to do. Its like all my fears are accumulating and lashing out. I have these nightmares but I can't seem to describe them. Its like if I try to talk about them, it only makes them more real. Im running from someone." His sentences scattered as he tries to piece it all together.
"Im scared, and Im always running from someone or something. Dark stairwells that I am throwing myself down to gain any additional advancement from my pursuer. Stuck in the psych ward, with my limbs frozen and dragging like stone. I wake up every morning terrified and exhausted from the dreams of the night before. Its a never ending cycle." His eyes begin to well up as a small glint glistens and tessellates in the light. He holds his phone back up resting it on his table as he slumps back down into his wickered half dome of a chair.
"Are you breathing Theon? That was a lot to unpack right there." His therapist attempts to feign comfort. "First I must ask, are you continuing your medications?"
"Yes..." Clearly annoyed by the question.
"have you had any thoughts of harming yourself or others?" His therapist begins to roll through some of the basic questions.
"I mean, I guess. I have a lot of thoughts coming in and out. Sometimes its a shit thought like wanting to hurt someone, like punching some jack ass in the face. I imagine death a lot. Its everywhere and people want to act as numb as possible to it. We hold too much value on this physical existence." He paused. A moment passes as he replays what he had just said over in his head.
"Ok, do you have thoughts or plans on following through with anything that would potentially negatively impact your 'physical existence', so to speak?" The therapist continued with his probing questions.
"Thats all relative to whom you might ask and what their beliefs are." His eyes went dead for a moment. Sanpaku.
"Theon, as true as that may be, we value the individual lives in our community and society. We hold the capacity and ability to recognize pain in others - empathy - and have a desire to help those individuals that are hurting. Whether it be that we are projecting our own insecurities, wants, desires, and even pride, we tend to at least try to help. Whats good for one is not always whats good for another and even though we try, we still tend to cause pain. Unintentional pain, but pain knows no boundaries."
"Pain is pain. and if im causing you pain, then please tell me. What ever is causing you that pain, we are here to find that out together. Identify and recognize the pain, with intention on healing it. Breathing into the pain, bringing in our life force, and that of the universe around us, and releasing that pain on every exhale."
Theon sits back up. Something sparked inside of him, igniting yet another licking flame heating his kettled heart. His therapist takes note as he is typing away his notes, evaluating Theon. His deeper sides were able to spread in the still of isolation. Waves slowly rippling outward, exploring the breadth of their reach. Pulling the grains of sand, and spreading, pulsing, eroding the gates that keep him locked inside.
Then grabbing his phone, he pulled the video call closer to his face, serious and pondering.
"How do I articulate this?" pausing to close his eyes and breathe deeply. A few breaths filled with a thousand choirs of thought.
"When I hear something like this, it feels like manipulation. You're playing on my empathy and trying to persuade me into thinking or feeling differently than I do, because the way I think does not align with your values or teachings so you "morally" feel "obligated" to "help" me." He expresses with his redundant one handed finger quotes.
"It feels selfish. You wont feel better until you help me. It feels egotistical. Like your moral obligation to help me is, at the root of it, selfish in your nature. You want to feel better about yourself and your external existence so you want to help fix others and their problems. Let alone probably avoiding certain aspects of your own life all in the vain of pompous self gratitude." He realized he had inadvertently offended his therapist in that moment. "... No offense"
Taken quite aback, the therapist takes a moment to compose his thoughts. Something he said had triggered Theon and he was curious to dig a little deeper. He wasn't offended but stirred with even more curiosity. He continued to type into his notes as hey stroked each key with conviction and fascination. Theon could hear the clattering, possibly irked by the idea of these notes being shared amongst his therapists colleagues for training and educational purposes.
His therapist sighs. "Why do you inherently associate selfishness with negativity? Of course we are selfish. We can only experience our existence through this physical body and all its multi-faceted appendages. If we truly didnt want to be selfish, then we would just go on autopilot and join the barracks. We would be living in a zoo being controled by others. To me, what sounds more selfish is going into that autopilot mode, giving up all your whims and wills, allowing someone else complete and utter control over you. When the very least, you could be selfish enough to help someone else out and reap the benefits of positive contribution to our society."
"So of course we are selfish. We are only 'ourself' and there isnt anything we can do about that. Hold onto the idea the selfishness is not inherently negative. Its what we do with this selfishness that retroactively begins to define it. Its ok to be selfish, and with *my* selfishness, I want to help you feel better with the knowledge, training, and thousands of hours of education I have at my disposal. I believe this would be a better world if we all helped each other out."
"But-" cut short, distracted by the warning on his phone notifying him he's less than ten percent battery left. "fuck."
"Butt-fuck?" His therapists reiterates, confused. "You may disagree with me but we will maintain respect and refrain from name calling in this space."
"No-I didn't mean to-I wasn't calling-ugh-fuck-my phones dying!" his mouth tripping over each word as it couldnt keep up with the velocity of his thoughts. "
"Times wrapping up for our session regardless. We've got our next appointment set four days from now. Now, I want you to keep writing in your dream journal. I know it can be painful to immediately relive your nightmares the moment you wake up, but it is important that you do this so I have a better idea of what I am working with and in turn how I can help you and your recovery." The therapist persists.
"Yeah, yeah... I will." Said with an audible sigh. He hates this part. His journal is like a grimoire. a book full of short horror stories. An autobiography of his nightmare infestations. It wasn't a happy read. With keeping his nightmare journal, he was starting to notice a few reoccuring themes. "At least I'm running away from something lately... but what ever it is, its always a few steps behind... but yeah, I'll keep up wit the journaling."
They expel departing pleasantries.
*I want to help you feel better... thousands of hours of education at my dispoal.* He mocks his therapist as he ended the call.
From his chair he stands in front of a window in his bed room to stretch out in the setting sun. The even glow was taking hold, illuminating the facade of the small city, back lit like an exquisite sculpture. The warm suns crepuscular rays rest on his face as he stretchs his arms above his head, taking in a big, audible yawn. He stands there absorbing and digesting the session he just had, holding his arms erect above his head as he do so. forlorn, he leans his figure on the window frame staring into the beautiful sunset.
Its gradient hues always looked spectacular to him. Sometimes like a slowly rippling water color painting, other times nothing but the fading light over the horizon that brings upon the lurking midnight curtains. Studded with stars like little pinholes shining out a lampshade. What he wouldn't give to touch a star.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Its exhausting having to... *feel*
A deep bass like sensation abruptly permeates his head, whooshing through his brain like a phantom through walls. A force that can nearly knock him over. The *ringing* immediately follows. It starts slow and low. Quickly raising in pitch, it overloads Theon with sensation. Another whoosh through his head. The ringing gets louder. It splinters into a chord. The chords begin to thrum. The thrumming reminiscent of an orbiting, or rotating force. Slow and steady giving a brief pause between each *thrum*.
He body goes limp, like snipping a marionettes strings. His eyes roll back as he goes down. Hard. Arms flailing. Smacking his phone and head on the hard wood flooring, the phone skid several feet across.
Inhale.
Exhale.
"THE TREES ARE SCREAMING AND NO ONE IS REACTING!" He takes moment, realizing his anger flaring up. "The trees are screaming and Im terrified to say anything. I'll just live my little naive childish life for the short stint it has until this metaphorical tumor has applied enough pressure on my brain - which in my mind was the reason for the constant ringing - causing me to seize up and die. The ringing is too much."
He threw himself back into the papasan, pitching it back a hair short of collapsing to the ground. He flailed to catch his balance.
"You call it tinnitus, but Im not convinced. It controls me. It influences me. Sometimes it'll hit so hard, it'll knock me off balance. Its like being shot in the head with a pressurized bass. Almost like for a second, I'm hitting metaphorical, ephemeral waters and then my insides are rushing with the current. The water and pressure rushing your ears. I can breathe, but I feel like im drowing." He looked down at his now crossed legs resting in the half dome of the chair, then throws his face into his hands, as if about to burst into tears.
"I've started trying something new. I remember reading somewhere, someone would meditate on the constant ringing they hear. Like its a message from the heavens. A message from higher up trying to communicate. Maybe its just the universal frequency? The akashik records? When I listen long enough, the high pitched string splinters into a smaller chorus, with individual notes and if I focus long enough, its like I can reach out and pluck it, like that of a harp. Are these the strings guiding me?"
"Do we really have any control? These noises control me. They drive me to a madness I never knew possible. I dont understand. I dont understand and I NEED" - he forces his fists to his temples - "to understand..."
Inhale
Exhale
"And then there's the nightmares. They dont stop. Why do they repeat? These scenes plague my unconscious and subconscious mind and I dont know what to do. Its like all my fears are accumulating and lashing out. I have these nightmares but I can't seem to describe them. Its like if I try to talk about them, it only makes them more real. Im running from someone." His sentences scattered as he tries to piece it all together.
"Im scared, and Im always running from someone or something. Dark stairwells that I am throwing myself down to gain any additional advancement from my pursuer. Stuck in the psych ward, with my limbs frozen and dragging like stone. I wake up every morning terrified and exhausted from the dreams of the night before. Its a never ending cycle." His eyes begin to well up as a small glint glistens and tessellates in the light. He holds his phone back up resting it on his table as he slumps back down into his wickered half dome of a chair.
"Are you breathing Theon? That was a lot to unpack right there." His therapist attempts to feign comfort. "First I must ask, are you continuing your medications?"
"Yes..." Clearly annoyed by the question.
"have you had any thoughts of harming yourself or others?" His therapist begins to roll through some of the basic questions.
"I mean, I guess. I have a lot of thoughts coming in and out. Sometimes its a shit thought like wanting to hurt someone, like punching some jack ass in the face. I imagine death a lot. Its everywhere and people want to act as numb as possible to it. We hold too much value on this physical existence." He paused. A moment passes as he replays what he had just said over in his head.
"Ok, do you have thoughts or plans on following through with anything that would potentially negatively impact your 'physical existence', so to speak?" The therapist continued with his probing questions.
"Thats all relative to whom you might ask and what their beliefs are." His eyes went dead for a moment. Sanpaku.
"Theon, as true as that may be, we value the individual lives in our community and society. We hold the capacity and ability to recognize pain in others - empathy - and have a desire to help those individuals that are hurting. Whether it be that we are projecting our own insecurities, wants, desires, and even pride, we tend to at least try to help. Whats good for one is not always whats good for another and even though we try, we still tend to cause pain. Unintentional pain, but pain knows no boundaries."
"Pain is pain. and if im causing you pain, then please tell me. What ever is causing you that pain, we are here to find that out together. Identify and recognize the pain, with intention on healing it. Breathing into the pain, bringing in our life force, and that of the universe around us, and releasing that pain on every exhale."
Theon sits back up. Something sparked inside of him, igniting yet another licking flame heating his kettled heart. His therapist takes note as he is typing away his notes, evaluating Theon. His deeper sides were able to spread in the still of isolation. Waves slowly rippling outward, exploring the breadth of their reach. Pulling the grains of sand, and spreading, pulsing, eroding the gates that keep him locked inside.
Then grabbing his phone, he pulled the video call closer to his face, serious and pondering.
"How do I articulate this?" pausing to close his eyes and breathe deeply. A few breaths filled with a thousand choirs of thought.
"When I hear something like this, it feels like manipulation. You're playing on my empathy and trying to persuade me into thinking or feeling differently than I do, because the way I think does not align with your values or teachings so you "morally" feel "obligated" to "help" me." He expresses with his redundant one handed finger quotes.
"It feels selfish. You wont feel better until you help me. It feels egotistical. Like your moral obligation to help me is, at the root of it, selfish in your nature. You want to feel better about yourself and your external existence so you want to help fix others and their problems. Let alone probably avoiding certain aspects of your own life all in the vain of pompous self gratitude." He realized he had inadvertently offended his therapist in that moment. "... No offense"
Taken quite aback, the therapist takes a moment to compose his thoughts. Something he said had triggered Theon and he was curious to dig a little deeper. He wasn't offended but stirred with even more curiosity. He continued to type into his notes as hey stroked each key with conviction and fascination. Theon could hear the clattering, possibly irked by the idea of these notes being shared amongst his therapists colleagues for training and educational purposes.
His therapist sighs. "Why do you inherently associate selfishness with negativity? Of course we are selfish. We can only experience our existence through this physical body and all its multi-faceted appendages. If we truly didnt want to be selfish, then we would just go on autopilot and join the barracks. We would be living in a zoo being controled by others. To me, what sounds more selfish is going into that autopilot mode, giving up all your whims and wills, allowing someone else complete and utter control over you. When the very least, you could be selfish enough to help someone else out and reap the benefits of positive contribution to our society."
"So of course we are selfish. We are only 'ourself' and there isnt anything we can do about that. Hold onto the idea the selfishness is not inherently negative. Its what we do with this selfishness that retroactively begins to define it. Its ok to be selfish, and with *my* selfishness, I want to help you feel better with the knowledge, training, and thousands of hours of education I have at my disposal. I believe this would be a better world if we all helped each other out."
"But-" cut short, distracted by the warning on his phone notifying him he's less than ten percent battery left. "fuck."
"Butt-fuck?" His therapists reiterates, confused. "You may disagree with me but we will maintain respect and refrain from name calling in this space."
"No-I didn't mean to-I wasn't calling-ugh-fuck-my phones dying!" his mouth tripping over each word as it couldnt keep up with the velocity of his thoughts. "
"Times wrapping up for our session regardless. We've got our next appointment set four days from now. Now, I want you to keep writing in your dream journal. I know it can be painful to immediately relive your nightmares the moment you wake up, but it is important that you do this so I have a better idea of what I am working with and in turn how I can help you and your recovery." The therapist persists.
"Yeah, yeah... I will." Said with an audible sigh. He hates this part. His journal is like a grimoire. a book full of short horror stories. An autobiography of his nightmare infestations. It wasn't a happy read. With keeping his nightmare journal, he was starting to notice a few reoccuring themes. "At least I'm running away from something lately... but what ever it is, its always a few steps behind... but yeah, I'll keep up wit the journaling."
They expel departing pleasantries.
*I want to help you feel better... thousands of hours of education at my dispoal.* He mocks his therapist as he ended the call.
From his chair he stands in front of a window in his bed room to stretch out in the setting sun. The even glow was taking hold, illuminating the facade of the small city, back lit like an exquisite sculpture. The warm suns crepuscular rays rest on his face as he stretchs his arms above his head, taking in a big, audible yawn. He stands there absorbing and digesting the session he just had, holding his arms erect above his head as he do so. forlorn, he leans his figure on the window frame staring into the beautiful sunset.
Its gradient hues always looked spectacular to him. Sometimes like a slowly rippling water color painting, other times nothing but the fading light over the horizon that brings upon the lurking midnight curtains. Studded with stars like little pinholes shining out a lampshade. What he wouldn't give to touch a star.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Its exhausting having to... *feel*
A deep bass like sensation abruptly permeates his head, whooshing through his brain like a phantom through walls. A force that can nearly knock him over. The *ringing* immediately follows. It starts slow and low. Quickly raising in pitch, it overloads Theon with sensation. Another whoosh through his head. The ringing gets louder. It splinters into a chord. The chords begin to thrum. The thrumming reminiscent of an orbiting, or rotating force. Slow and steady giving a brief pause between each *thrum*.
He body goes limp, like snipping a marionettes strings. His eyes roll back as he goes down. Hard. Arms flailing. Smacking his phone and head on the hard wood flooring, the phone skid several feet across.
Posted in EverEve - A passion project turn Book
Posted 2 years ago
Heyo and welcome to the sh!t show!
So I've been working on this story idea for a long time. Its evolved from a video game idea, to a comic book/manga style idea and for now I've settled on the novelization of my project. Its a big passion project for me that I have been working on (and off) for years now. At least 10 years since I created my first character of this story. It was when I was 18, at my restaurant job. The owner was a horribly pretentious p.o.s. He was also a lawyer and wrote all of his family out of his fathers will. Scum of the earth type person.
And to this day it still bothers me that he was the catalyst for me to start. He asked me one day what I was doing to achieve my goals. I'm always working on some sort of piece of art, music, or some sort of creative/learning project. He made a point at telling me that Its never too soon to start. Even if I don't know how to code a game, I can still write the story. And when that is done, then I can learn to code the game (for example) as long as I keep persevering.
Now, this man drove me insane. He was awful and everyone that worked for him knew that too. But that always stuck with me. I didn't want him to be right. But he was. If I were to prove him wrong, then that would mean me not completing my story. My ego could get in the way. Its annoying because he had a very good point but I just wish it came from literally anyone else than him.
Ive not really shared too much of this story with people, but I would love to get some sort of feedback. Ive never published anything before. This is a very rough draft. And the way I write it, I separate each chapter into 3-5 segments depending.
The next few posts will contain different segments from different chapters. I think i'll start with a few of my favorites so far. If everything goes well, maybe I'll end up posting the several chapters I have completed thus far.
This book is probably rated M for mature. 18 (or 21+) and up depending on where you live. I'll leave out any crazy explicit material, but a lot of the story revolves around mental health, as mine has been a difficult struggle my whole life, starting at a very young age, going through some life changing, traumatic events.
So a lot of this book is me writing about what I know, writing out my thoughts and ideas, trying to learn about myself more, learn about all of this more. I am very ocd so I need to write this down just to get it all out of my head finally too.
There will be plenty grammatical errors, potentially some plot holes, and maybe even some parts that just don't make any sense.
I use a program called manuskript so some CSS like coding may appear throughout. Some parts are just notes for myself too, but I'll try to omit those.
I also recommend Manuskript if you are an aspiring author or story writer of any sort. It is incredible with helping me organize everything, offering different tabs and segments to create and build your characters
So I've been working on this story idea for a long time. Its evolved from a video game idea, to a comic book/manga style idea and for now I've settled on the novelization of my project. Its a big passion project for me that I have been working on (and off) for years now. At least 10 years since I created my first character of this story. It was when I was 18, at my restaurant job. The owner was a horribly pretentious p.o.s. He was also a lawyer and wrote all of his family out of his fathers will. Scum of the earth type person.
And to this day it still bothers me that he was the catalyst for me to start. He asked me one day what I was doing to achieve my goals. I'm always working on some sort of piece of art, music, or some sort of creative/learning project. He made a point at telling me that Its never too soon to start. Even if I don't know how to code a game, I can still write the story. And when that is done, then I can learn to code the game (for example) as long as I keep persevering.
Now, this man drove me insane. He was awful and everyone that worked for him knew that too. But that always stuck with me. I didn't want him to be right. But he was. If I were to prove him wrong, then that would mean me not completing my story. My ego could get in the way. Its annoying because he had a very good point but I just wish it came from literally anyone else than him.
Ive not really shared too much of this story with people, but I would love to get some sort of feedback. Ive never published anything before. This is a very rough draft. And the way I write it, I separate each chapter into 3-5 segments depending.
The next few posts will contain different segments from different chapters. I think i'll start with a few of my favorites so far. If everything goes well, maybe I'll end up posting the several chapters I have completed thus far.
This book is probably rated M for mature. 18 (or 21+) and up depending on where you live. I'll leave out any crazy explicit material, but a lot of the story revolves around mental health, as mine has been a difficult struggle my whole life, starting at a very young age, going through some life changing, traumatic events.
So a lot of this book is me writing about what I know, writing out my thoughts and ideas, trying to learn about myself more, learn about all of this more. I am very ocd so I need to write this down just to get it all out of my head finally too.
There will be plenty grammatical errors, potentially some plot holes, and maybe even some parts that just don't make any sense.
I use a program called manuskript so some CSS like coding may appear throughout. Some parts are just notes for myself too, but I'll try to omit those.
I also recommend Manuskript if you are an aspiring author or story writer of any sort. It is incredible with helping me organize everything, offering different tabs and segments to create and build your characters
Posted in Achievement: I Made An Avi!
Posted 2 years ago
looks fantastic!
Posted in Baralai's Art Gallery (updated Apr. 21)
Posted 2 years ago
@macsen191: Thank you! This is a bunch of my older stuff. I'll try and get to posting some of my more recent work too
Posted in I made a meme
Posted 2 years ago
Im dying laughing at this abomination and just hope someone else finds it as funny as I do
Posted in I made a meme
Posted 2 years ago
I dunno where else to share this really.
Anyone remember the song 'Untouched' by The Veronica's ?
Anyone remember the song 'Untouched' by The Veronica's ?
Posted in Mental Help
Posted 2 years ago
@milkshake: I feel that about the fight or flight. I don’t know how to relax. Growing up I was always stuck in fight or flight because my older sister and mom would torture me. My sister always busting into my room, breaking my stuff, not respecting my privacy, going out of her way to physically harm me.
(She’s like a big jock dude. To paint a picture, she is a big (overweight and buff) lesbian that would power lift and stuff. And I’m a scrawny not buff little gay boy at the time)
I never answer phone calls. I have gotten better at checking my mail and email though!
And I was a raging alcoholic for like 7-8 years.
That’s what my “black rose” story is about.
Poetic title but it’s actually my friends last and middle name that died around that time and that led me to the beginning of my alcoholism.
And that’s crazy about the book! In a great way because I’ve started writing a book / story to help me cope with all of my nightmares and try to express myself in new ways just try and understand myself.
And also to get all these thoughts out of my head because I am so obsessive that it won’t go away until I create it.
@macsen191: mindfulness is wonderful! What really irks me though is when someone like me who struggles with their mental health is around other people that think they know all the answers and they often ask “do you practice mindfulness?” Like only if I just took their advice and practiced mindfulness their way, I’d be fine.
Like people just don’t understand other people sometimes and it drives me wild.
Uhh, I guess that was just a random tangent.
Just really nice to relate and connect to other people about this stuff
It gets so condescending and rude. Like yeah, but I am only human and I am allowed to react to situations. I’m allowed to not always know the immediate right thing to say or do.
Thank you both for sharing!
(She’s like a big jock dude. To paint a picture, she is a big (overweight and buff) lesbian that would power lift and stuff. And I’m a scrawny not buff little gay boy at the time)
I never answer phone calls. I have gotten better at checking my mail and email though!
And I was a raging alcoholic for like 7-8 years.
That’s what my “black rose” story is about.
Poetic title but it’s actually my friends last and middle name that died around that time and that led me to the beginning of my alcoholism.
And that’s crazy about the book! In a great way because I’ve started writing a book / story to help me cope with all of my nightmares and try to express myself in new ways just try and understand myself.
And also to get all these thoughts out of my head because I am so obsessive that it won’t go away until I create it.
@macsen191: mindfulness is wonderful! What really irks me though is when someone like me who struggles with their mental health is around other people that think they know all the answers and they often ask “do you practice mindfulness?” Like only if I just took their advice and practiced mindfulness their way, I’d be fine.
Like people just don’t understand other people sometimes and it drives me wild.
Uhh, I guess that was just a random tangent.
Just really nice to relate and connect to other people about this stuff
It gets so condescending and rude. Like yeah, but I am only human and I am allowed to react to situations. I’m allowed to not always know the immediate right thing to say or do.
Thank you both for sharing!
Posted in Mental Help
Posted 2 years ago
I just want to take the time to acknowledge the struggle we all may face from time to time. The depression and anxieties that take over. Our mental health feels like its deteriorating and sometimes completely obliterated. Im not going to say I have a magical answer or cheat code, but I can relate in my own ways.
I am someone diagnosed with:
I spent the start of 2020 in the mental hospital, Pennsylvania Psychiatric Institute. I was absolutely terrified before I admitted myself. I had spent the previous week obliterated from liquor, a busted up, cut up, bloody broken, wrapped up hand that I had put through a window. I barely moved out of bed. If it werent for my dog, I wouldn't have moved.
If it werent for her, I probably wouldn't be here. Cliche I know, but she is my baby and means everything to me.
My step father had previously assaulted me and broken a couple of my ribs, I had just lost my most favorite job I ever had.
I had already lost a majority of my friends 6 years prior when I had to move to PA with my parents (another long story). My ex boyfriend kicked me out. My closest friends abandoned me and sided with him.
It hurts, even now it hurts, but I understand. I understand why they did it, and I don't blame them. I blame myself for being such an unstable alcoholic. It crept up on me quick.
(Other future stories for me to share)
Im already losing my steam so I may come back and edit and add more, But i really did just want to take the time to reach out to everyone, offer any help I can with anyone that may need it. Hopefully make some friends along the way and try to get through this life together.
I am also a Certified:
I am someone diagnosed with:
- Borderline personality disorder
- Bipolar Personality Disorder
- Major Depressive Disorder
- Generalized Anxiety Disorder
- Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
- Nightmare Disorder (when I can sleep)
- Insomnia
I spent the start of 2020 in the mental hospital, Pennsylvania Psychiatric Institute. I was absolutely terrified before I admitted myself. I had spent the previous week obliterated from liquor, a busted up, cut up, bloody broken, wrapped up hand that I had put through a window. I barely moved out of bed. If it werent for my dog, I wouldn't have moved.
If it werent for her, I probably wouldn't be here. Cliche I know, but she is my baby and means everything to me.
My step father had previously assaulted me and broken a couple of my ribs, I had just lost my most favorite job I ever had.
I had already lost a majority of my friends 6 years prior when I had to move to PA with my parents (another long story). My ex boyfriend kicked me out. My closest friends abandoned me and sided with him.
It hurts, even now it hurts, but I understand. I understand why they did it, and I don't blame them. I blame myself for being such an unstable alcoholic. It crept up on me quick.
(Other future stories for me to share)
- 21 and Black Rose.
- L13
- KKC and MMW
Im already losing my steam so I may come back and edit and add more, But i really did just want to take the time to reach out to everyone, offer any help I can with anyone that may need it. Hopefully make some friends along the way and try to get through this life together.
I am also a Certified:
- Yoga Instructor 200 hours
- Level 1 Reiki Practitioner
- Peer Support Specialist
Posted in Heyo!
Posted 2 years ago
@Totalanimefan: Thank you! I'll have more to come asap. Just gotta run out real quick, then walk my pups for the evening
@Ruby: And thank you too! This place is hitting so many nostalgic spots in my brain and soul. Im getting a bit geeked out over here.
@Ruby: And thank you too! This place is hitting so many nostalgic spots in my brain and soul. Im getting a bit geeked out over here.
Posted in Heyo!
Posted 2 years ago
I was looking for a community to just hang out with in forums, mainly art related. A place to share my work as well. And the avatar system is very addictiong 