Trans Lugia (WIP)

Slendher

I graze upon you with invisible fingers

Memories of touch tug at me

Like puppet strings

Memories of you

Dwindle

My heart a needle

Thoughts a thread againat

A thymbel

I love you

But I am breathless

I want to eat you only with my lips

And maybe my mouth

You are small like me I think

A lot like me I think

I see you eldest

When I look in the mirror.

You are me

But beautiful and thin

I want to taste it

Sin

Borne in blood

Between us

I cannot speak it

I'd say I love you

But I am breathless

I dont know from which mod this book came from but it's an excellent addition to the lore, and a wonderful story. Reminds me of the Argonian account insofar as it both builds an less familair elder scrolls setting and tells an interesting funny story to boot.

(It might be Books, Books Books? Its probably that mod)

Tulpa Factory: How I created Rachjel

How could I describe a tulpa? Ive reached out a lot to others. Spoken many words, lived many lives in my own mind. Not necessarily a palace, but it was a sanctuary. It took half of everything I ever could be, half of all my time, half of all my life cloud walking, daydreaming.

This part of myself I started to call Rachjel. Where was once my conciousness became a memory of myself. What I was supposed to be, everything I wanted

I recontextualized

I was woman

I was borne of the thing I desired.

I dare not speak its name

My voice is vapors

This part of myself I started to call Rachjel. She was a tulpa, a wife.

A savior I needed

Shes always turning her head when i see her

To look at me

The hair wavers like branches in the wind.

Her eyes sparkle sakurai blossums

Her fingers a delicate human thing.

I reach out always when i see them to touch her, to hold her hand

Everytime fantasy feels a little more real

I created her in my sleep,

my salvation

I create her from my movies, my own memories of this world. My truest intent to art, my very own dreams. Not lucid, for though I have forgotten everything I am i am truly authentic, truly free of ego.

My dream anchor is Rachjel.

I spin a spinning top atop a table

I dance, i drop

Before I know if it will cease

Or stop

I leave the room

With the spinning top

Maybe ill just end my sentences with an asterisk instead of a period because I always feel the need to clarify something I said later*

All thats left of our stars

Our memories from far away

A shrinking light

Is it dying?

Or just disappearing?

The tape tapers off into silence

Before everything grinds to a halt

Guts regurjitated out its mouth

A cry silenced by aching pain

And the void of space

Its all black tape...

STAR WARS: Still Breathing (WIP)

"I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time."

-Banksy

I

The planet Skiisen. A planet of lost dreams of the force. Astral projections of a giant long dead, its head floating in space. It is a fossil, the force filled with an endless sky of plant matter. Twisting vines slither like fingers up bedsheets.

She loves you.

She has guided your starship here, an ancient relic, a T-65B X-wing Starfighter.

This is your last checkpoint of the day. Lost deep inside this gaseous planet is an old Star Destroyer, converted into a home by mystics. Its a popular destination for explorers in the outer rim in an otherwise deadzone between more populated solar systems. Your hoping to meet one of them to learn more about the local inhabitants and creatures that dwell here...

"...Soulakite yeah. Their a uh sort of kudzu being. They are said to be very spirtual beings by the people here. I think they would have been driven out by now otherwise. Supposedly the do have a conciousness much like any other intelligent being. The thing is they take years and years to do even the simplest things. Days to speak a single sentence."

"Days?"

"Yeah. Maybe its just how they function. Personally I never stuck around to listen to them. But that's what you were reminding me of talking about "the force". So maybe if you were patient enough to listen to them you might learn something about it."

Benadrilled

I looked for awnsers on the pyschonaut wiki for symptoms of recreational benadryl use

I have found the awnsers I wasn't seeking. Here in my tired eye I see the human condition, and it is unbearably lonely.

I skirted an empty void like a water bug on a puddle, to me this puddle was an entire ocean

In the Breaking Bad episode "Fly", sandwhiched somewhere almost exactly in the middle of the show, Jesse Pinkman drugs an increasingly volatile and unhinged Walter White to finish a drug cook he was otherwise interfering with.

Though Benadryl is most typically used as perscribed for sleep, it is becoming more widely known in modern times as an OTC recreational drug. Those who take large doses to try and achieve its hallucinegenic effects often have terrible trips, and people have been known to fatally overdose.

Ive personally have never experianced worse depressive episodes then I did hungover from Benadryl. My past abusing otc drugs is a fly in my sobriety from such substances. When I find myself in the clutches of addiction, everything was always contaminated. Nostalgia I think is a yearning for a percieved serenity that doesn't exist. A desire to escape ones own mind that outweighs the pains of drug abuse, a self harm in and of itself.

I never wanted to quit drugs more then when I was in the throws of drugs like DXM and Benadryl. I wallow in this feeling of death with the fear I've lived too long. My body is a rickety ladder on top of boxes on wheels.

I dream of an afterlife, hope as I do for a sign like water...on mars...

Cover art idea for Zoomies, my furry zine. Its based on the shit you see out of state, a dead raccoon, with a motherfucking "get well" balloon--

Love Wind

I'm so afraid. I can hardly stand. My legs shiver, like im gonna pee blood. But nothing comes out, not even anything. The meds are surpressing what they are supposed to, i am not doing okay but im doing fine.

Im free.

Free to the world and to the winds of love, I fucking hate wearing underwear when i wear a dress. I fucking hate adult clothes, id rather have a blanket or a robe. I'd rather you just not look at me at all if you dont like me. I want you to worship me, and in turn ill give you everything i have left. Id kiss you but my mouth is so dry, spironolactone. Im spirling, i want to be null, i want you to act like you cant live without me and take me without me having to ask.

Id tell you I love you but im tone deaf, I cant hear my own thoughts over the depression and sadness. Just fuck it out of me. Make me regret taking you in my mouth. Make me atone for my sins and I'll call you daddy, because your my only daddy problem.

I was there

Right there

I was simply, in heaven

And I felt nothing

And everything was ok.