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earthquake117 · 4 days ago

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How I entered the void in less than 5 minutes last night (If someone doesn’t shift with this, I’ll scream)

I wouldn’t be sharing this and putting myself at risk of sounding like a lunatic who posted one method, and is now posting yet another version of it, if I didn’t have a reason for it. Idk, gut feelings are hard to explain (I’m aware I sound insane right now)

But I’ve never been more excited to share something in my life, sooo that might attest to something.

This will work for everyone in some way. And I’ve never been more certain of anything ever. (Except for the time I pspspsps’d at a black kitty on the sidealk at night, which ended up being a trash bag, and I found out I had horrible eyesight—but that’s not the point here).

This isn’t anything brand new. It’s like my method people have been seeing results with, but stripped down to its bones. Simplified to the core, which I’ve learned actually makes it more effective.

(unless you’re someone who prefers something detailed and objective, then yeah, stick to my main method and ignore this)

This doesn’t care about your beliefs. Doesn’t care about your identity, your self-concept, your doubts, your contradictions. It doesn’t matter if you’re into non-duality, law of assumption, law of attraction, or don’t even have a belief system. This method does not give a single shit. And I say that with confidence, because when this worked for me last night, I was crying. Genuinely, majorly depressed. Everything I usually cling to, all my beliefs about shifting and consciousness and the nature of reality—I wasn’t mulling over any of it. I was flat out over existence itself, and it still worked.

The set-up:

• First, understand something: The screen of space you’re looking at right now—even if your eyes are closed—is the same screen where your DR, CR, the void, your dreams… all of it… will appear. That’s your canvas. Always.

• This works best with WBTB (wake back to bed), so set an alarm for about 3 hours after you fall asleep. You want to wake up just tired enough that going back to sleep is easy, but you’ll still have some control. (You can also do this as you’re going to bed, but it was 3 AM for me after I had woken up,,, so do with that info what you want).

• Now, get this into your head: You’re not entering the void or shifting from a place of calm or confidence. You’re doing it from pure exhaustion. You’re doing it from “fuck this shit, I’m doing it anyway.”

You can doubt. You can feel like shit. But the attitude that follows is “fuck it.” You’re tired of trying, and tired of being on this journey. So you’re just gonna do it. Fuck it.

What to do:

• Lie on your back. (I personally like my back, but I’ve done it on my side too, and it still works. Doesn’t matter. Don’t overthink it. This doesn’t matter)

• You can move. Just don’t care that you moved. After the next step, you won’t even be paying attention to your body anyway, and it’ll go numb naturally,, so the idea here is “fuck it, this doesn’t matter.”

• Now: Notice the black behind your eyes. Just that. The blackness. Don’t try to notice your awareness yet. Just focus on the black. Look at it. Really look at it. LOOK. Keep choosing to look at it again and again. Widen your eyes over and over again, and keep refocusing on it. This will keep you alert, but you’re not forcing yourself to stay alert, got it? It happens naturally, because you’re reeeeally looking at the black behind your eyes.

• Your body’s gonna want to fall asleep. Don’t fight it, don’t care about it, because the fact that you’re looking at the black behind your eyes will naturally keep you from falling asleep.

• You keep your mind locked on that black space, almost like you’re watching a movie screen, but nothing’s playing yet. What happens? You’ll keep wanting to fall asleep—but widening your eyes and choosing to watch the black will keep waking you up. You’ll be in this liminal place going: “Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. I’m doing this. Fuck it. Don’t care.”

(What I mean by “widening your eyes” even though they’re closed is: when your eyes are closed, don’t let them go slack like they do when you're falling asleep. Keep them wide and alert, like you're trying to watch something in the dark. You're not tensing them, just holding that sense of openness, like you're staring through your eyelids).

• What happens next: Suddenly you’ll feel your awareness. You’re just awareness now. Naturally. You didn’t right off the bat try to pay attention to your awareness,, you just realized that you are it. Why? Because when you feel confined to that black space behind your eyelids like a coffin, with nothing else around you, there’s nowhere else to run to other than your awareness. Your body will be numb, and your surroundings distant, irrelevant. And you’ll think: “Wait… I’m just my awareness.”

• And then your brain might do what it always does: “Oh no. What if I’m overthinking? What if I’m messing it up?” And you remind yourself: “I’m literally awareness. I can overthink if I want. I’m awareness goddamnit. Fuck it.”

• You’ll start switching—back and forth—between two things (because there’s nowhere to run to):

1. Looking at the black behind your eyelids

2. Noticing your awareness itself

Keep flipping between the two like you’re flickering the lights on and off in a room, but don’t force this. You’ll look at the fact that you simply are, and you'll look at the black,, and you’ll think: “damn?? I’m just my awareness.”

• Then you’ll start to sink. You’ll feel the pull as hypnagogia grabs your hand and says “so where are we going, bestie?” From here, you can either:

A) Keep going as you feel yourself sink, and you’ll fall straight into the void state effortlessly.

B) As you feel yourself sink, you can choose to lucid dream, astral project, or just plain shift from here. To shift: affirm, assume, observe, do whatever you want. The way I shared that I like to do this is by observing my awareness in my DR, observing the fact that I’m aware there (just pretend you’re there, no need to try too hard).

The point is: whatever happens next, if it happens very very quickly, don’t panic.

Just to note:

If this somehow doesn’t work for you—though I genuinely believe it will work for someone—just know the reason I share so many things is because I deeply believe everyone needs different things. The core of shifting stays the same to me:

You are only awareness, and you observe your desired reality until all other options collapse.

But how you get into that is wildly personal. What works for me might not click for you, just like what works for you might not click for me, and that’s fine.

That’s why I keep offering options—not to confuse you, not to invalidate anything I’ve said before, but to give you more pathways of realizing how powerful you already are. If one method feels off, try another. My main method is still my go-to: observe my awareness in my DR, exist there, decide I’m there because where else would I be??—but I love giving variety because maybe this next one might be the one that opens it all up for you.

Edit: (this just came to mind) don’t place a time expectation on any method. This one worked in less than 5 minutes for me, but the next time I try it, it could happen in 10, maybe 20. I don’t know. So if you try this, and it doesn’t immediately work in the way you expect it to, take a deep breath and keep trying, because eventually something has to happen. Trust me.

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earthquake117 · 5 days ago

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MY METHOD THAT'S NOT A METHOD BUT IS A METHOD...?

a guide on how i shift (almost) every time.

before we dive into the good stuff, i just wanna say that what i'm attempting to do on this page is simplify things to the best of my ability, but if things come out sounding too complicated at times, please feel free to ask questions.

first step (and arguably the most important one): come to terms with the fact that you are simply awareness. you are not the you that you see in the mirror. that's just your vessel for this reality. you? are the awareness perceiving this reality from the view point of said vessel. it's the same concept in all of the endless realities.

so lay down. take deep breathes. focus on the darkness behind your eyes, and remember that you are just awareness.

➯ i say “remember” here because we are not making up a random fact, or pretending till we believe it. it's already real, and subconsciously we know that, so we're remembering.

step two: once you're calm, and the feeling of nothingness starts to set in: that's it. now, disclaimer here that you may or may not still hear, smell, or feel things that you perceive from your base reality. doesn't matter. remind yourself that it doesn't make a difference what you hear or smell or feel because your senses lie to you all the time. (see this post).

step three: the trick is to basically gaslight your brain here. this is because your brain (well, your vessel's brain) is made to understand things scientifically. logically. so any input it gets outside of those circumstances, it will try to fight against. the key here is to not let it win. tell yourself you're in your dr now. the brain will say “uh no we're not lol, we can feel our sheets from our cr” so you say “how do you know that? how do you know i'm still in my cr? can you prove it? prove it.” and then everything it throws at you as ‘proof’? throw it back. relate it back to your dr.

step four: let your brain go down a rabbit hole until it can no longer prove anything to itself. and that's when you've entered the void. you are pure awareness here. no logical brain to stop you from affirming or assuming or deciding. once you're here, you simply remind yourself that you are in your dr. and that's it. it's as simple as that.

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earthquake117 · 6 days ago

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yknow we talk about it lightly and crack jokes about it but it really is existentially dreadful that we work so many hours every day, every week, every year, that it leaves us constantly tired and with next to no free time for social connections, artistic endeavors, living life. it's a fucking horror story.

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earthquake117 · 10 days ago

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There was a lot of stuff I was supposed to do today, but instead I've made this:

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earthquake117 · 12 days ago

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#art #artwork #original art #digital art #alien species #alien oc #alien original character #oc art

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earthquake117 · 13 days ago

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Please please please right another chapter or just another work on this story! It was so good!

Oooh what about a Dark!Daddy!Clark? Maybe he likes a cute little intern at the Daily Planet and he obsesses and manipulates her into ddlg-esk relationship and she’s none the wiser??

If I’m not making sense, ignore me, pookie. I’m glad you’re back!!!!

𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 | 𝐜.𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭

pairing: Dark!Clark Kent x Reader

synopsis: You're a nervous intern at the Daily Planet, struggling to keep it together. Clark Kent watches quietly until his protection becomes possession.

warnings: +18, daddy/caretaker dynamic, obsession, infantilization, emotional manipulation, dubcon, shy reader with low self-esteem, age gap, possession, disturbing dynamics, minimal editing, proceed with caution.

word count: 2.3k (one-shot)

It starts small. So subtle that Clark hardly knows he’s doing it in the first place. You’re just so scattered. Overwhelmed.

He’s there at the elevator whenever you scramble out of it, carrying all your belongings and two drink carriers full of hot coffee. You rush out a few nervous thank-yous, and your lips part in shock when he grabs the drinks and your heavy workbag too.

Despite your job description, he doesn’t like to see you lifting a finger.

When he’s not working, he watches you from across the bullpen while you sit at your cluttered desk. You’re always in some shade of pastel, a knit cardigan, curly hair adorned with colorful hairpins or bows. Your socks always reach up to your shins, and on the days when you’re the most tired, you don’t notice that they aren’t matching.

He dislikes that Perry expects you to fetch coffee for the entire staff, and he hates it even more when you bring some sad excuse for a lunch in your strawberry-patterned lunchbox. Almost everyone leaves for lunch. You, a struggling student, always turn Jimmy down when he invites you. You don’t have the money, Clark assumes, so he joins you in the breakroom a few times a week.

When you whip out the same peanut butter sandwich and apple that you always bring, Clark sees the way your face falls.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and your heart quickens.

“Just tired.” You nod, then nervously tap at the table.

“Here,” he offers you half of his favorite sub sandwich he orders at the deli on the next block. “I’m not going to eat all of it.”

Your lips part to protest as he lays it out in front of you. “Clark, you don’t—”

“You look hungry,” he adds. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly. His blue eyes are focused on you. Hard. Expecting. “…No.”

You find that the truth slips through your lips before he has a chance to question you further. “Y/N.”

“I had coffee,” you say next. “I have to get up at 4:30 if I want to catch the earliest train into the city, and sometimes I forget.”

Clark nods, understanding, although his mind is already working toward a solution.

After that, he shares his lunch with you when he can. When you get to work, there is always breakfast waiting for you. A breakfast sandwich from the deli or a Tupperware with homemade pancakes. It doesn’t take you long to put the dots together. When you thank him, he never answers directly.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

“But—”

“You have to eat breakfast.”

��But you don’t—”

“And lunch. And dinner. I don’t want to find out you’re still skipping meals.”

Your lips press into a thin line then. It’s the first time he’s seen you frustrated. Embarrassed, even. Your brows furrow, and you turn in your pink ballet flats and walk away from his desk.

The thought crosses his mind that he should back off then. Give you your space. And he tries. Really tries. But you are so needy. So much more needy than he even realized.

He follows you home. Your tiny studio apartment that you’ve made into a home, but that doesn’t make it any safer or less cheaply built. He checks on you most nights, makes sure you’re tucked into bed, although you stay up way too late working on assignments for Perry.

The night he hears you crying behind the bathroom door at work, he nearly loses control. It takes everything in him not to storm into Perry’s office and toss him off the roof of the Planet.

He doesn’t, of course.

He waits until everyone clears from the office. You emerge from the bathroom as the sunset illuminates the room in shades of red. You clutch your heart, frightened, when you find him waiting for you. You wipe under your eyes quickly, but there’s no hiding from Clark.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Please, Clark.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

Clark can feel how fast your heart is beating. He closes the distance between the two of you, one hand finding the small of your back and the other cradling your neck. Your lips tremble and your sweater sleeves pull down over your fists.

“Clark—” you hiccup, and the tears start to fall again. “I just… I-I—”

He thinks of how badly he wants you not to call him Clark in this moment. He’s been telling himself not to rush this. It will take time. “You’re okay,” he says, deep and soothing. “You’re being so brave.”

You blink up at him through the tears. “He… h-he ripped into my article. The final one. For my class. He’s hated every draft I sent him and it’s due at midnight,” your voice cracks, high and thin. “I think he’s gonna fail me. On my review. I-I worked so hard to get this internship, Clark.”

Clark’s jaw tightens. “I know you did, sweetheart,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shake your head. “I’m not a good writer. I-I’d be a t-terrible journalist.”

Clark’s eyes darken as he looks down at you. He sees you crawling inside yourself. Retreating. He doesn’t think as he lifts you off your feet, wrapping strong arms around your torso, before he carries you toward his desk.

Your body tenses, though you don’t protest. Your eyes only widen, and you go quiet. You have no sense of fight or flight. He understands that your first instinct will always be to freeze. His entire purpose in life is to protect people like you.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Clark takes a seat at the desk before he settles you into his lap. You wiggle, but he holds you tightly. It feels like pushing at a steel door. You hadn’t realized he’d feel so… heavy.

He rolls his chair closer to the desk, effectively trapping you in, and he opens his laptop, your back pressed against his chest. In your ear, you hear him say, “I’ll help you rewrite the article.”

“What—”

“I know what Perry is looking for. I can help you clean it up.”

“I’ll miss my train.”

Clark pauses for a moment. He clicks his teeth. “I’ll take you home.”

“Oh…” What choice do you have? “Okay.”

His voice lowers, soft but firm. “Relax.”

“I’m trying,” you sniffle.

“Good girl,” he whispers.

Clark is a man of his word. He helps you write the ten thousand words in a way that Perry would approve of. He helps you with the pacing, the tone, the flow. It never crosses his mind that you’re a bad writer. Just inexperienced. He remembers being exactly where you are.

When Clark finally feels your mood lift and sees the tired smile on your lips, he isn’t willing to let you go just yet.

You were hesitant when he opened the passenger side door of a dark sedan that doesn’t match his reporter salary. You were even more hesitant standing on the threshold of his high-rise apartment. You thought he would take you to the subway station, only for him to insist that you stay in his spare room.

Noticing your hesitation, he grabs your hand and leads you forward. The door closes with a finality you weren’t quite prepared for. You turn and feel your feet trying to carry you back toward the door. Clark squeezes your hand, gentle but firm. When he notices your body start to freeze up again, he sighs, low and almost fond, before taking matters into his own hands. Literally. You let out a startled breath as he sweeps you off your feet like a bride.

He isn’t frustrated with you. He directs you like a child about to wander into the wrong room, or a pet that doesn’t know any better.

“Let’s get you out of these work clothes, okay?” he asks rhetorically, carrying you deeper into the apartment. “And then you can have a warm bath and something soft to sleep in.”

“I don’t have any other clothes, Clark.”

“Don’t worry, baby.”

Your resistance matters little to him. You expect a guest room that’s impersonal. Bare bones. Instead, you’re met with a room with cream-white walls, a cozy bed with a white, fluffy comforter, and a plush, oversized teddy bear in the corner.

“I—” You clear your throat. “Is this a kid’s room?”

“No,” he answers as he sets you onto your feet. “I just wanted it to be… comforting.”

Clark’s lips part to explain further, but out of the corner of your eye, you spot a tall bookshelf. “You have The Secret Garden and A Little Princess,” you say. Clark watches how your eyes light up and how you pad over the soft carpet. “I’ve never seen these editions before. They are so pretty. Look at these pink flowers.”

His hulking figure shadows you as he reaches past, taking The Secret Garden off the shelf for you.

“I don’t know,” you say instead of taking it, but he grabs your hand, lifts it, and places the book in your palm. “You like these books?”

“I know you like them,” he answers casually, and your mind skips over the absurdity of the situation because next you notice a line of figurines that look like fairies on the shelf below them.

“Look around and get comfortable, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll start your bath.”

You gasp softly as you lean down, studying a woodland fairy with so many delicate, adorable details.

Every detail in the room is perfect. There are even fairy lights hanging near the windows. Just like the ones you have hanging in your apartment. And on the nightstand?

A Hello Kitty nightlight.

The exact one from your Amazon cart. The one you’d bookmarked and rebookmarked, hovered over for months, but never bought.

“You ready?” Clark asks, snapping you from your daze. Your lips part to answer, only to realize his question is, once again, rhetorical. With a hand on your lower back, he guides you toward the attached bathroom.

The lights are dimmed to a golden hue, and the tub is filled with bubbles. A soft towel sits on the bathroom counter, and a pair of neatly folded pajamas rests right next to it. You glance at the older, taller man and realize he’s removed his glasses. You almost do a double-take, your eyes focusing on his features, and he’s almost unrecognizable.

You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or the fact that this all feels like a fever dream, but you can’t help but let this happen to you.

“You’ve been working so hard, haven’t you?” It doesn’t help that his voice is deep and melodic. You look down at his fingers as he gently undoes each button of your cardigan. “Let me do this for you. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Daddy.

The word touches you somewhere deep. An embarrassing place.

“I don’t need you to,” you say, although you aren’t convincing. And now he’s undoing the buttons of your khaki skirt.

“Let me,” he says again, softer this time, like he’s reassuring you.

Isn’t that what you’re doing? Shaking like a leaf and letting him get you naked? It’s done with such care. His touch doesn’t wander in the slightest. It’s almost clinical. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and the glimpse of his arms—thick and muscled—makes your eyes widen. How had you missed this before? You’ve never felt intimidated by Clark until now. Never felt how much power radiated from him.

“I-I shouldn’t have come,” you stutter out, mostly to yourself. “I’m imposing,” you add next, politely.

He gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”

It’s good to know. It’s reassuring. It isn’t completely your fault that this is happening. You cover yourself with your hands when he’s fully undressed you.

He guides you closer to the clawfoot tub and keeps you steady as you step into the warm water. His invasion of your personal space doesn’t stop there. You’re not sure if he understands the concept anymore. His hands are already reaching for the soap. He kneels beside the bath and continues to look at you like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever seen. You look down then. You don’t meet his eyes as he runs a washcloth over every inch of your skin.

He notices.

“I know you don’t understand it yet,” Clark says. “But you will. You don’t have to do anything but let me take care of you.”

You focus on the warmth. The comfort in his voice. You realize you have to or else your heart will jump out of your chest.

“Relax.” He says that word again. Your eyes focus on him again as his fingers sink between your legs. A large hand against a small area. His palm presses against your lower belly. He spreads your folds, and everything in your body tenses.

Determined, focused blue eyes stare back at you. “Clark—” you rush out, and your small hands wrap around his arm. His arm doesn’t move as you push. It doesn’t even tremble beneath your grasp. “Clark, please. P-Please—oh my—”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he says. “But I will be firm with you. You need that, don’t you?”

Your eyes flutter as your body trembles.

His movements are so precise. Large circles, and then small, concentrated ones. Your chest heaves as your head tilts back. It’s almost as clinical as when he was undressing you. It’s something he has to do. He’s treating the act like a mission that needs to be accomplished. A step in a nightly routine.

Now you’re dizzy. The act doesn’t take longer than two minutes. He applies the exact right pressure. It’s almost painful how your orgasm rips through your body. It's embarrassing how quickly it happens. “That’s it,” you hear him say. You gasp for air in between your moans. Now you’re holding onto him instead of futilely pushing at him. “Good girl, sweetheart. You needed that, didn’t you?”

He takes your silence and shaking body as a sufficient answer.

“Let’s get you dressed and tucked in, sweetheart. Big day for us tomorrow.”

𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 :) ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑!! 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

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earthquake117 · 13 days ago

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my favourite thing to do when shifting is gaslighting my own brain

like I am laying in my bed, eyes closed, slow and deep breaths, while I affirm that I am a master shifter and I am in whatever reality I want that day

and when my mind starts saying “bitch no, you ain’t there” I will literally say “how do you know if I have my eyes closed and you can’t see shit”

I find that so funny, but it literally works because HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU’RE NOT THERE IF YOUR EYES ARE CLOSED AND YOU CAN’T SEE ANYTHING BRO

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earthquake117 · 14 days ago

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Inspiration from the art comes from owlerart. Please go check out their stuff if this style vibes with you because they are an amazing 18+ blog on here and twitter. It’s meant to be a funny statement about the amount of hate posting on sites like this, and a hope to make the internet a more positive space.

#dick jokes #digital art #naughty art #naughty at work #18 + content #18 plus #18 + only #bad jokes #naughty jokes

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earthquake117 · 18 days ago

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“I know my circumstances are an illusion and I’m already a master shifter/ master manifestor/ in my DR, but what do I do until the illusion breaks?”

My love the illusion already shattered once you recognized it. You’re a limitless, infinite source folding itself into a tiny meat suit like “uhhh now what?”

What do you do??

You play. You wreak havoc. You poke the illusion until it squeals. You treat it like the lucid dream it is. You get unhinged with it.

Manifest you see a cow on the side of the road. Manifest your bully trips on the sidewalk. Manifest a pink Jeep cuts you off in traffic. Manifest a stranger compliments your hair when you felt ugly that morning. Manifest free fries, free coffee, free ice cream just because.

Manifest you’re randomly gifted $5. Manifest you find a random feather on the ground. Manifest your crush posts your favorite song on their story. Manifest your teacher cancels class last minute. Manifest a butterfly lands on your window.

Manifest your Spotify shuffle hits so good it’s suspicious. Manifest someone says the exact phrase you were thinking. Manifest a good day. Manifest your boss cancels a meeting you were dreading. Manifest you see a clown at the mall.

You get to treat it like a sandbox, because that’s what it is. This is an illusion. Poke holes in it. Bend it. Flip it inside out. Control it, mess with it, since it doesn’t matter anyway.

You already recognized it’s an illusion, so shape it, tear it, play with it. SIDE QUESTS WON’T STOP YOU FROM GETTING YOUR DESIRE BECAUSE YOU ALREADY HAVE IT.

If you’re aware it’s fake, you’re already free. So go do something chaotic about it.

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earthquake117 · 20 days ago

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Ĥello

I am mai from Gaza.. 🇵🇸🍉

I hope you are well .

I write to you with a heart full of hope and faith, and I ask for your urgent help. My family is in great danger due to the war, and I am running a fundraising campaign to save them.

Please, can you reblog my campaign post on my account? Every participation can make a difference in my family's life.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can provide. 🇵🇸🇵🇸

The campaign was documented by @90-ghost

Please help me even with a donation of $10 to save my familyhttps://www.gofundme.com/f/save-nour-and-her-family-from-war-help-them-escape

Tags to bring attention !!

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earthquake117 · 22 days ago

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Kinger doesn't like seeing his daughter cry.

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earthquake117 · 22 days ago

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“We need more complex female characters”

YALL COULDNT HANDLE HER

It’s crazy that her character flaw is thinking that if she ever expresses a negative emotion everyone will dislike her and yall immediately proved her right. Goddamn.

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earthquake117 · 27 days ago

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Using Emotions To Shift

~ “You've thought of it, but haven't done it. That's the same as not having thought of it at all.” ~

I’m back and this time hopefully with fewer grammatical crimes. Autocorrect failed me on my last post and I still get heartburn thinking about it T_T Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled programming. Over the last few days, I’ve been digging through some really ancient shifting posts, think 2018 to early 2021 era. You know, back when the community was largely on Amino, side-eyeing the growing waves of shifters on TikTok. Ah yes, the misinformation, the bold faced liars and the weird “Gen Z is faking mental disorders” compilation videos we got thrown into. What a time to be alive (don’t bring it back, seriously). But what stood out to me reading those old posts was that people talked a lot about feeling. Nah, I’m not talking about symptoms like the weird itchy feeling during the raven method, or your limbs twitching because they’ve suddenly got their own agenda. I mean emotions. That dull, aching longing in your chest when you imagine hugging your favorite DR person for the first time. That soft exhale when you realize you are finally there, you made it. When your mind finally stops fighting for a moment and everything just clicks. Doesn’t that feeling sound magical? And wasn’t longing the whole point when we started this journey? But as I kept reading, moving from one year to another, that emotional core slowly faded out. Got buried underneath the chorus of “you need nothing to shift”. Which yeah, technically true, fine. You don’t need emotions. Or a method. Or a script. You also don’t need to season your chicken. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna sit there smiling while you serve me bland, boiled sadness if I could have fried chicken instead. I’m not out here saying you should have a mental breakdown during every attempt, that would be a bit much. What I am saying is that in the race to make shifting faster, cleaner, more efficient, a lot of people dropped the soul of the whole thing on the way. Somewhere between the fifth “failed” attempt and the 10.000 affirmations a day grind, shifting turned a bit mechanical. The DR that once made those shifters light up? Dull, numb. Just another thing to do to cross off the list for today. Motivation was outsourced to other shifters' success stories, the connection to the DR got lost. And honestly, that thought kinda sucks. Because, at least for me, the feeling part was always so important. Let me throw another question at you: If anxiety can anchor you to your CR, make you freeze, spiraling, doubting, why wouldn’t love do the opposite? If dread can make you feel stuck, why can’t joy pull you forward? What if wanting to shift “too much” is actually just your personal compass? Almost every shifting method tells you to detach from your current reality, forget your body, ignore the noise, dissolve your surroundings. Cool, great. But detaching from something without feeling attached to something else (aside from the void, but you would be kinda attached to the idea of the void, wouldn’t you?) feels like floating in limbo. No direction or destination. Back in those days, emotions were called the bridge between letting go of here and being where you want to be. And now a lot of shifting content reads plainly like a puzzle solving guide. Say these affirmations, use that method, breathe this way under that moonphase and guess your dog's star sign if it had been born 3.4 months earlier. Don’t use this app to feel connected to your DR or you won’t shift! It’s cold, mechanical. Shifting isn’t really a logic problem, we’re not out here trying to break the firewall of the multiverse theoretically. We’re just trying to be in a place that feels more like home.

Not quite sure what else to say, but maybe it’s worth a shot trying to feel your way into your DR again. Not much you can screw up with that, right?

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