Me, When Im Mothman

What an icon of an essayist

how is it mario day and no one posted the essay

Biography

MY ACCOUNT IS 18+ MINORS DNI

"This is not for you"

-Mark Z Danielewski, "House of Leaves"

My name is Dreamgazer, and im 26 years old. I use She/Her and They/Them pronouns. Im also cool with any feminine pronouns you might know. I'm a Non Binary Trans Woman. I'm on the AuDHD spectrum. I started this blog because I've been passionate about writing my whole life. I felt it was time to put my work out there again publically, and see what people think. This is your blanket trigger warning for my blog, because I will not individually label each post for potential triggers. Some topics I might write about may be controversial, but judging by the rest of Tumblr I'm actually fairly mild. Feel free to ask me anything or request poetry. You can private message me if your interested in commissioning me for editing or writing, but poems are free. If you've read this far and you like my writing please consider commenting or rebloging. Feedback is important for me to improve at my job, and is always appreciated. Thank you for reading. :)

-I disagree with Radqueers and Conservatives personally but im open to civil dialouge with either.

-This blog is a safe space for LGBTQIA+ and allies. I also have zero tolerance for hate against people for being cis/straight.

This is allowed at my house if you know me

You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:

Sometimes I wanna think through my storly maturely, and think through what fits, whats easier to understand, clearer, concise.

Sometimes id rather just write anything that comes to my mind. Just throw in a lot of words I like. Just because its fun

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)

A cold

Icy river

My skin

Soaked in sin

It's sagging

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."

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

A cold icy river