Quiet Sadness

Thoughts on Serial Experiments Lain

The show exists for me in a very nostalgic place. It makes me think about what the meaning of Nostalgia is to begin with. When I looked up the definition on Merrium Webster it was something to the effect of melancoly and overly sentimental longing for the past. More bizzare the American Heritage Foundation said it may be fatal in one of their definitons. Apparently it used to be an actual diagnosis. It's interesting to me to distinguish what i think a word means, and then learn what it really means through its history. Lain longs for a home in her humanity, though it never really existed at all. What was once an illusive almost supernatural world full of meaning lost its meaning as she drove herself deeper and deeper into the wired. Her connection to home grew more and more painful as reality dissappeared and she still hung onto what reality used to mean. It's a lot like how we today become dissallusioned with life as we spend all day online, constantly connected to dozens of platforms and screens of different kinds. The technology might look more obviously bizzare and disturbing in Lain with the tubes and wires and buzzing but our own world I think provokes the same emotion if you ground yourself to reality. The problem is i think searching for something that was never real. I think for a moment Lain let those walls down with that final hug.

Un

Like my hearts beating there

I put my hands to my ears

In silent noise

The rumble of muscle

My eyes dialate

My mouth is dry

Like im going to die

I wait in anticipation of silence

To wash over a million hearbeats

I close my eyes

But fades of blue so faint, so fucking faint as nothing

Is still something

Im my meditation of death

Death illudes me

And i will never see her coming.

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

If you dont see whats fucked up about this don't follow this blog.

Sad Girl Poetry

Love locked in a lisp,

Evil words on my lips.

Vocal stims, intrusive thoughts

A terrible gift.

Every mistake i remember

I repeat in my head.

It comes out;

Just like I did.

Again and again.

I speak.

I confess.

My secrets to the air,

Surrounded by people,

I put myself at risk.

Evil words unlocked,

Love lost on my lips...

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Waiting

Boredom is a drum

I hum

Trum trum trum

Boredom is a clock

I tick

Tik tik tik

Boredom is an air vent

Breathing belabored

Under my own weight

Under the weight of air

Looking down at my phone

My view obscured by hair

Where where where

Am I?

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."

Me, when im mothman

I love being able to be honest here. For better and for worse this platform has more honest self expression then many others I've run into. I've come to accept the fact that I'm rather self absorbed because I can be the focus of my own writing. I think thats a great gift that art gives you, being able to write characters from your own mind, draw oc's that are based on yourself and still be productive, still bring joy and happiness and thought provoking questions to others. It's an easier way for me to connect with people as someone on the AuDHD spectrum. I'm thinking about this because I decided to take a leap of faith and be more vulnerable recently here then I thought I could be. Even if nobody reads it, the action of putting it into the world is a big step forward.