#and I don't have the memory & brain function to be able to memorize all that shit anymore without a CRAZY amount of effort + active guidanc

[kittycak3s]

I think I FINALLY found a 3D modelling program that's not going to send me into a meltdown

[gynandromorph]

I find your comics about Legend really really fascinating and really wanna understand how her thesis works, but not knowing very much about Nofna's worldbuilding, I feel lost? I've really enjoyed your Nofna style emulations and you put a lot of care into exploring the intricacies of her powers

not sure i can explain well, zachary has explained the powers as "advanced pretend." imagine if you could imagine something hard enough to project it into reality. there is a step in between, where you can only project what you're imagining into another person's perception of reality. here's how nofna explains it:

Legend's thesis particularly rubs up against the instant transmission of language. Art in the comic is language without language -- in order to communicate with depth, you have to be speaking to someone who has already agreed upon a specific set of parameters to communicate: words. animals did not have words to communicate with each other, so they used this to settle "disagreements."

Legend's thesis, at first, focuses specifically on the agreed-upon transmission of language via writing, not Art as a whole. she finds it interesting that words can communicate ideas involuntarily, even when there is no one communicating that idea. words are a language with which even dead people can speak. the first inception of her thesis functions by projecting letters and words at a target to force them to read it. she investigates why it is that one can project ideas onto someone else that they might disagree with, even though the medium of communication (writing) is agreed-upon. she comes to understand that reading relies on involuntary recall of information -- memorizing phonics (the sounds letters "make"). she knows that this method of communication still only works if all parties have agreed to LEARN HOW TO READ in the first place, and pursues empathic transmission (other-oriented reception of communication) as the source. her thesis moves on to function by manipulating mirror neurons by projecting writing at her opponent. she runs into a dead end with mirror neurons, which activate while acting, observing acts, or reading about acts. she pursues the viability of memory as a source of transmission for reading to manipulate. her thesis begins to function by projecting pretend onto memory networks in the opponent's brain and obfuscating what information in their head is real or fantasy. the style thematically adopts her experiences of psychosis and the ambiguity of reality in one's sense perception; there's really no way of telling if what you're perceiving is real or not, though the use of evidence may assist in coming to a judgment. because the style manipulates memories, it does not rely on being impressive or novel to be accepted by an opponent's mind, so it becomes "undeniable" (able to be rejected as false). the fourth and final form of Legend's style comes after a critique from Pegging during which she is told that reality and fantasy are not the same thing. if they were the same thing, they would not have separate words to differentiate them. there is a fundamental difference between them, separated by some sort of wall. though outraged by having the core of her thesis pulled out from under her again, Legend investigates the fourth wall, and why her thesis was able to manipulate reality itself with no reader to receive it. she comes to the conclusion that the common thread between reality and fantasy which has allowed her thesis to function is narrative -- the chronological ordering of events to produce a logical argument. in the case of reality, it's simply forced to bend to the rules of logic. nothing that happens in reality is illogical. no effect happens without a cause. writing and memories preserve aspects of reality from the past to the future as information, but things that happened in the past don't stop existing if they aren't written down; the placement and force of every atom in this universe is entirely built upon its historical context. her thesis comes to function by turning the world into words representing said historical context, onto which she can project retroactive continuity, instead of turning herself into words to project outwards at others. it comes to fail because the only reason for fantasy to exist is an imperfect world from which it can deviate.

i hope this explained how all that works; it's sort of pretentious (no pun intended), like all philosophy.

[furiousgoldfish]

I found your blog last year and I have been reflecting a lot on your posts, when it comes to my own memories.

it was last year that triggered me to remember some things that I'd disassociated completely on purpose. and even accepting those led to a landslide of remembering many more other incidents. I live with my parents and I can usually convince myself that we are fine as a family.

but I'm not able to do that anymore. I keep thinking and remembering and questioning all of their behavior. but they don't really do that anymore. my mother still yells at me occasionally but my brother doesn't hit me and my father doesn't yell at me or taunt me like he did when I was a kid. my brain often tells me that I shouldn't get so sensitive over the past but what im feeling is simply horrible and doesn't go away. does it still count? even if we have a better relationship now?

It counts, yeah. These are all things that happened, and they have affected you permanently. You'll never be able to have a family that didn't hurt you in the past, in fact, they still do hurt you, just to a lesser extent. You're having to actively dissociate from certain memories just to be able to still live with these people. You learn from the past, the experiences they've put you thru have taught you that they're not safe, that you can't relax, that you have to always be careful and monitor what they do to you, that you always have to be ready to absorb more abuse.

Usually families stop the worst types of abuse when the child is a bit older and capable of telling, capable of reporting it, recognizing it, memorizing it, and holding them accountable. It's not because these people 'changed' or 'want a better relationship', they realize now that some acts of abuse would have consequences for them, so they only do the ones they can get away with – that being yelling and more subtle type of abuse that you can't so easily recognize and prove.

That feeling you have is correct, these people did hurt you, and are expecting you to just be okay with it and forget it, and the pressure is so big, that you're here wondering if even thinking about it makes you 'too sensitive', even though it was so bad you actively had to suppress memories of it in order to keep living with those people.

It's fairly common to have this type of situation, where day-to-day, you can convince yourself it's all normal, but inside you're festering with painful and traumatic memories, and these go neglected, unacknowledged, and you're supposed to be okay with the fact that nobody cares about what they put you thru, they only want you to shut up about it and act like it didn't happen. They're supposed to care what your experience of childhood was. They're supposed to provide you with love, safety, connection, care and happiness. Not only they failed, but they put you in a state where you have to watch your own reactions and your own feelings, not to show how badly they traumatized you, and you're forced to blame yourself and find things on yourself that you can blame (likely it's them who suggested you were 'too sensitive' in the first place.

I'm so sorry anon, I know this must be hard. It's ultimately up to you how far you want to think on this, and if you want or can do anything about it. It's okay to just forget it until you're ready to deal with it, we often need to do this in order to function. Maybe you didn't want an answer that would make things more chaotic and painful for you right now, and if that's the case, please disregard it. Only know that you are not too sensitive, that your experience matters, and that feeling the way you do is normal considering the situation. Your feelings are important too, and you're right to say them and to want to talk about it. I can't promise that the horrible feeling will go away, but one day you will be able to figure out why it's there, and how to deal with it.

[multitrackdrifting]

Some people have asked me why I'm able to enjoy so much media and they don't assume that I'm uncritical of it or anything like that, they're just wondering why I barely ever let gripes bother me and it's because I think that sometimes in life we just need to enjoy something that's not that fundamentally life-changing but just fun. Like I think Konosuba has a stupid premise for example, but watching it is fun because it's like chewing cotton candy. I'm not expecting something thoughtful or progressive, I'm just trying to watch a band of idiots on their silly journey.

That's a lot of words to say that everyone should enjoy some mid media because even getting a marginal amount of entertainment in spite of something being flawed is still a worthwhile journey more often than not. Even if the only thing you take away was "wow I didn't like that" you still have a jump off point to talk about something with somebody else, I don't watch Riverdale thinking "wow this is the best written thing ever" but the absurdity is its own form of entertainment and being a person that knows about it has led to many long conversations with people explaining how wild that show gets.

I don't watch, read or engage with stuff looking to get the maximum impact out, sometimes my brain just needs something to chew on, even if it's ultimately unsatisfying or bad. I think we'd all be a lot happier seeking less perfection & accepting that sometimes it only takes one character or one scene or arc or something to ground it in our memories. Being "meaningful" or having "memorability" is not a function of flawless construction - usually something we like has pitfalls, but you don't have to justify that you are fully cognizant of the flaws of something you like all the time (granted, I do harp on my gripes with G-Witch but anyone who has spoken to me about it knows I loved watching it and still like it now). You don't have to feel paranoid that you come off as uncritical about something you like - unless it's like Hetalia then you probably should but pretty much everything else you're probably good just having a smile and enjoying what you enjoy. I think people assuming you aren't smart enough to recognise writing failures or flaws in something is more of a projection of their own moral standards unfairly unto someone else who isn't even doing wrong by saying "I like this flawed media without self-flagellating myself every time I mention it".

I think the internet fosters a sense of hyper-vigilance around "I like this thing that's stupid to others but please don't think I'm a bad person for that". To view other people in such absolute terms is to reject any interest in acknowledging their complexity as capacity for critical reflection, and that's why I have such a lax attitued about mostly anything and generally talk about things I like even if I do stop to complain about this or that, I don't think that proving I have a brain inside my head is a priority when I say "I liked watching this 6/10 show". The most simple concept is this: life is already really fucking hard, I am not trying to optimize my free time by watching the Citizen Kane of Cartoons all the time when I have 1-4 hours free per day after work.

[yeuxmin]

one more dream

group: treasure

member: yoshi

genre: angst

warnings: none

The beach was filled with your laughs, running away from him. Both of you were running in the empty and peaceful beach, not caring it was too late nor how angry will your parents be when they see both of you soaked after falling in the seawater.

You didn't care about anything but the joyful time you were having.

You were feeling so alive and free in that moment that the entire world could stop functioning just to contemplate how in love were both of you.

Yoshi wrapped your waist and spun you around, giggling. You also couldn't stop laughing and telling him you'd get dizzy.

You fell.

You could feel the cold water, but you couldn't get your eyes off him. He looked at you with pure love, his eyes shining as if he had two galaxies as eyes. He loved you so much. You looked at him with adoration and love, caressing his face delicately, trying to memorize every single line of his face. Trying to memorize every single touch.

You were so in love, both of you had so much passion for each other. Nothing could ruin it.

"Nothing could ruin it" implies it's impossible to ruin something.

But everything can be destroyed.

Nothing lasts forever.

Yoshi woke up not being able to breathe properly. Everything felt so real, he really thought it was the present, but the darkness of his room welcomed him before he could finish his dream and realising it only was a nostalgic memory.

He has been feeling empty since you left and nothing could change that. He couldn't get over you. Even if he didn't want to, all the memories would cross his mind constantly without giving him a rest. How could he continue with this life when he still had all the memories, feelings and touches so present, so alive?

He was lost in the past. He lost track of time.

"Where are you? How are you? Do you still feel the same? Did you get over me? Do you still love me? Did you forget about everything? Did you find someone better than me? Do you miss me as much as I do?" Empty questions that would never be answered, but his brain still wanted to make, increasing the agony and pain inside of his heart.

He closed his eyes, tears running down his delicate skin. He wanted to stop feeling that pain, he couldn't handle it anymore.

Perhaps he knew that everything would end, inside of him he knew nothing could last forever. He knew it, but that didn't excuse him from the pain. Even so, he still wanted to revive their memories, to get lost in the past without feeling the pain of the present.

And with that desire, he started falling asleep, trying to live in one more dream.

i want to say that even if i don't have a prompt list (not sure if i'll make one), you can always make request even if it's only member + genre, a mlt, a reaction.

and thank you for all the loves you're giving to my work, i didn't expect so much attention (for me it's a lot, maybe for other it isn't), i appreciate it so much because i'm always so insecure about what i write and now even more because i'm outside my comfort zone so thank you so much <33

[myvelouri]

I'm having a slight break down. This is going to be way too personal

If anyone is allowed to hate their life (trust me there's a lot of people who are) then it's definitely me.

I'll tell you why. First of all, why should I care about this? I say that to myself, but I care a lot anyway.

I've never really been able to have sex like normal. As in, my body just fucking sucks and does weird shit. So, I've said it before. If I have sex or masturbate for more than 2 weeks, my skin suddenly becomes really oily and I get these hard bumps that eventually turn into fat ass PIMPLES and often times cysts. And yeah, they have scarred my face permanently. I get this on my fave, my back, bottom and arm pits. If I stay abstinent and don't jerk off or ANYTHING, I have the most perfect skin. (The permanent scars are still of course there and many have accumulated). And I just feel like this isn't supposed to happen, this isn't supposed to be real, doctors say it's impossible, yet it's happening to me and it's dead ass real. I've done many experiments and changed the variables like a science project, and it WAS one. I can prove this happens to me. But it's not about you believing me. I'm extremely... Heart broken that this is happening at all. My heart starts to shake. Because this seems unrealistic. Still, 15 years later. I still have to deal with this. To cope, I tell myself, well, other people just have acne ALL the time without being able to stop it, but me? I know what triggers it, and I don't have acne at all, but if I don't have sex as much as I want to, then I'm good to go. But my god it's such torture. It truly is. All of my ex's and past FWB actually ARE aware of this "condition" I have. They seem to be totally baffled by it too, and how real it is.

And it affects not just my own sense of freedom and enjoyment... But my god, when your girl is horny and she wants to fuck your brains out and you have to say "I'm sorry babe, I just can't... I can't right now, it'll be bad for me" it hurts the relationship wether she says "okay babe, I understand" or not. It just does.

And on top of all that, my dick size pisses me off. I'm 6'2", my dick should be huge. But it ain't. And here's another kicker, I can't fucking get hard. Imagine a 20 year with a fuck ass dick. Yeah, hi, that's me.

Although I stopped any kind of masturbation and porn for months at a time and it totally helped my erection.. it felt so fucking horrible. Wasting months and years of my life unable to just whack off or have fun having sex with someone I like and likes me.

It's cruel. It's so fucking cruel.

But to make myself feel fucking better, I tell myself, "hey, at least I wasn't born a pedophile, imagine how much worse that would be." And yeah. That doesn't even make me feel better anymore

My heart is racing now, as I type this.

My face in scars, my body just awful.

There's also the fact that I have a condition, a oral one, so, my mouth and jaws never fully properly formed growing up, and my face grew elongated and basically gave me a perma-derpy face. Picture Napoleon Dynamite, but brown, and fat. That's what the fuck happenened to me. It's a common condition. And you can see my school pictures every year from kindergartner to 5th grade and watch my face degrade and retard. It's fascinating to see. But I used to be a beautiful fuckin kid. This condition made me so ugly. I remember before I had it. In kindergarten and before, I have memories of girls all over me saying I was so cute. Girls asked me to marry them in kindergarten. But a few years later, those same girls didn't recognize me. It was traumatic for me. Big time. In fact, my heart is racing even faster right now. I'm gonna take a sip of my alcohol real quick.

Okay. So, on top of all that, I was a heavy kid. Well, luckily for me I'm a smarty pants and I was able to lose all my weight by 14 years old. Super skinny. But guess what? I have loose skin. It's rather mild but my god I cannot wear tight shirts at all. It's awful. I never take my shirt off in public. I've been working out and I can look decent in pictures in a few poses. But it's still horrendous in real life. You can see stretch marks too. I don't mind those.

But yeah. I've never felt free. I still have that insecurity and I usually try to hide my body if the wind is pushing my shirt into my body. I get anxiety and start sweating. It's just mental. I can't stop it, I can't okay?

And here's another thing. I was always really intelligent, very quick, and extremely funny. I used to be the class clown in my classes and even in my family (I have tons of relatives) and I used to be so popular on both of those social scenes. It was incredible. Girls would like me for my personality but wouldn't date or fuck me because they said I looked too ugly and goofy. Yeah, let me tell you, that took a long time to be okay with. I'm not okay with it still, but I won't cry anymore about it. So yeah, my brain, the only thing I cherished. I was amazing at video games, above average in everything I did, I used to help out my friends and family in video games and they'd be so impressed, they'd love me so much. I'd play online and people would go nuts at my skills, even when playing multiplayer games with family actually, I'd do some crazy fast reaction shots in shooters that was fucking incredible. I used to play professionally with a team I had too. I was looked up to in many ways. I was told that too. And so I loved my brain. I remember the quality of life, being capable of joking around, and it was so much fun, what a great gift of life. I'd joke around nonstop, riff with everyone, and I'd always be the one to win and end up making everyone crack up. Wow. That was FUN. It made life worth living and is why I absolutely adore comedy. But... I suddenly was hit with depression. I isolated myself. And slowly, my brain started to deteriorate. I have lost all of my big personality, humor (most of it is gone) my quickness, I'm terrible at games, my brain functions very slowly, I'm terrible at socializing (I used to dominate) and I can't study or pass classes like I used to (I used to with ease) and I can't remember things or memorize things at all anymore. Depression is slowly killing my brain, year by year. It's even worse now.

And now I'm finally old. I have nothing, can't do anything. My depression isn't mild. It was originally diagnosed as "severe depression" and it has killed me, who I am. The real me ain't here. I try not to say that as it makes my sister cry. But I died a long time ago. I'm just a shadow of my former self trying to make the best of whatever is left for me here. I have strong opinions on things, and I can't fucking even care anymore.

The worst part is just waking up. Every day. I hate thinking. But it's all my brain makes me do. And it's not even good at it anymore like I used to be. I wish it would stop. I'm scared to buy a gun. I was getting one for sport. To shoot targets. Not to kill anyone. I mean, it's good for self defense. But I just wanted it for sport. But I'm afraid. Because I think I really would shoot myself in the head eventually. I am so scared of that.

I'm tired.

I'm so very tired.