#personal writing

[eccedentesiast-skies]

You’ve grown into someone who would have protected you as a child. And that is the most powerful move you made.

[unrealward]

zine i made to help introduce (important parts of) myself. check it out on itch.io

[lovenliterature]

Happy?

You made a comment to me once, that you didn’t think I could be happy

I don’t remember the precise words, but I remember the crater it left in my heart

The feeling of someone not just losing faith in you, but stripping your self-belief too

I can’t remember what provoked it, can’t even remember if it was an argument or an off hand comment but I can remember thinking

Maybe I just can’t be happy with you

[sinligh]

It’s June,

summer is just a concept yet, everything i know is already melting Into something that resembles a wax like mold that’s made of a collection of my doubts

my hesitancy to exist

where do i stand ?

have i crossed the line ? or am i wrapping it around my neck subconsciously?

for i feel it tightening with certainty that could only hold the weight of my existential dread; if i built it on delusions

this isn’t an interrogation, but an act of rebellion.. a crisis Masquerading as romanticism and decay

And I seem to be losing more and more of myself to those with every day

that passes as “my twenties”

I walk and walk Aimlessly, Blindly dragging one foot in front of the other

Hoping to find purpose to define my existence

only to settle for trivial validation and numbness

that I pay for by letting fatigue like necrosis feast on my raw nerve endings sitting up a pathway for anxiety

And i wonder if it’ll ever come to an end… Or will i ?

Will i embrace paranoia and let melancholy embrace me ?

for how long will i be able to romanticize this catatonic state of consciousness ?

with what will i pay when it consumes my youth ?

And where does the sliding scale of my self destruction measure ends;

if not at the base of my ego induced highness

Where do i end ? Because lately..

I’m all beginnings and potential that i forgot how to digest

before it got rotten

•••

•Quotes: Sylvia Plath/ Virginia Woolf/ Franz Kafka/ Franz Kafka/ Sylvia Plath/ Clarice Lispector/

•Original content: Sinligh

Art reference:

1. Body of Christ Piece by Jess Cochrane. 2. "Deliverance" by Robin Isely. 3. "Vanitas” by Roberto Ferri

[rivereverie]

Just a personal post, with a dash of Astarion because this is my life now

So I've gone my whole life denying myself writing fanfiction (despite being a writer since forever) because of the powerful internalized autistic fear of being "cringe". But after playing BG3 I just can't do it anymore. Astarion as a character just inspires me too much and I have so many scenes I want to write that in my mind, its criminal weren't included in the game. Honestly, once I gave myself that permission, I've written more this past month than I had in the past six months of my original story. It's been so fun and rewarding and has taught me a lot about what mental hang-ups I still have as a writer, even when it comes to work I know I'll never share. I'm basically just novelizing the story of my Tav and Astarion now, and it's so much fun. I'm sure a lot of my ideas have been done a million other times by other people, but this is my version, and I'm reminding myself that there's value in that. I'm still learning that it's okay to be self-indulgent and "cringe" sometimes. I just want to see the characters I love be happy and get the treatment they deserve, even if I have to write it myself. I'm being creative and it makes me happy, so maybe that's what matters? It's freaking me out now to even post this, but I'm really trying to learn how to express myself honestly again after so long masking and being so concerned with appeasing others. The fear of judgement or "doing something wrong" is hard to get over. Maybe someone else relates.

[sillygoblinantics]

“Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou that’s not how trauma works, Lily Orchard”

This is the last Lily critical thing I am willing to share. For context: this happened during one of Lily orchards korra streams, it was before she would release her video that I would not watch for mental health reasons, but yes this is how her streams are, so much dead air only filled with obnoxiously loud keyboard clacking, snorts, and little to no commentary.

I had been watching, while watching I caught her talking about… trauma and ptsd. I caught her (if for a moment) fully displaying her lack of genuine empathy and knowledge of the aforementioned topics. And then when the show actually has a great point about how to healthily heal and how it isn’t going to be immediate she says:

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. That’s not how trauma works!

As if she would actually know and have studied and actually fucking know what it’s like.

This moment had broke me… if you’ve read my essay about my healing you’d know. This is not a criticism of Lily orchard… this is me showing her true colors. I need you to see how her brain works I want you to understand how it works without getting too close and touching the metaphorical poop of this drama until you get the full vivid picture of her.

Ever since I’ve learned more and more about Lily and have truly seen and heard of the things she’s done I’ve been plagued by what I thought were the traumatic moments I felt I had eloquently unpacked and picked apart… actually reanimate and take new forms that have caused minimal spirals.

And if I’m going through this then imagine what Lily orchards victims and fans have gone and continue to go through. This isn’t about whatever card she’ll use to get away with her behavior this is addressing the actual danger of this woman.

If I ever post her again I’ll be dropping art I did as cathartic release (like the below image):

Lily clearly uses her “trauma” to hurt others. She’s transformed it into a weapon that only damages those she hits with it.

Catharsis is the key to the freeing metamorphosis of your trauma tho it may remain it weighs less as you transform more and more of it in a new way.

That transmutation can be anything, art, animation, music, sculpture and visual or physical media really! Even in writing. It’s why I like creative nonfiction as it’s really just explorative essays. Like this post you’re reading now!

So.

To wrap this up, let’s quote the gifted goose’s own mouth:

“Fuck you, fuck you, Fuck You. That’s not how trauma works, you can tell they never had it”

— Lily Orchard August 2024

[confetti-cakemix]

Oh how the shadows of our bodies reflect the darkness (the wanting, the fear, the things that consume us) that follows us, always, even when the light is near and bright and blinding. Especially then.

Do not be devoured by yourself; stand in the warmth, with your face in the sun and your shadows will scurry behind you and hide.

I thought the similarities of Peter Pan’s shadow and The Void was interesting…and the general idea of the void and Neverland too, a world full of nothing and everything all at once

[camryndawnauthor]

HII LOVELIES!! INTRO POST

Hello! It's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Camryn (or dawn if you'd like, I am not picky!), what's yours?

About me:

- I'm a minor, so please keep that in mind and be respectful!

- I use They/She pronouns

- I'm relatively new to writing, so please be kind! Tips for improvement are welcome on specified posts! (Will be marked with a ♤ symbol)

- I'm based in 🇦🇺

- I love to read/write, the fantasy genre is one of my go-to's!!

- I love coffee!!

- I play guitar and the piano 🎶

- I have ADHD and Autism, so I tend to rant a lot and have trouble understanding things sometimes, please be kind!

Boundaries:

- My page is intended to be a safe space, so if you are homophobic/transphobic/racist/any other basic DNI criteria, please stay away, you will not be welcome here.

- Please don't critique my writing unless I've specifically asked for some!

- Questions/Asks are completely fine, but please be respectful!

- AI in any form is not welcome here.

What to expect from my page:

- Posts on ideas, brainstorms, questions, etc that I may have

- A safe space to discuss ideas, interests, and all things writing/reading!

- Bits and pieces of my personal works

- Fantasy themed content, trains of thought, etc. My writing can be a little diverse depending on the day, lol

- Things to do with the book I'm currently working on (will be discussed in another post!)

- Reposts of writing related context, book related content, etc.

I hope you have a lovely time here!

[livingmybestlove]

Sometimes I wonder if we dream of each other at the same time.

[sloanesallow]

grieving peter

this post is about the loss of a pet

tw: grief, depression

Eighteen years ago, I brought home a 3-month-old kitten and named him Peter.

Six months ago, Petey died.

There are a lot of poetic ways to talk about grief, to muse about the universe and its mysterious ways; little things we as humans do to compartmentalize and explain away unexplainable hurt.

Fuck that. Grief sucks. It hurts. It's painful and messy and complicated, and is not the same for any person on this planet. I think we are conditioned, sometimes expected, to get over things within a certain timeframe. But that's bullshit, too. Some pain, you just never get over, you just learn to live with it.

I've encountered compassion. Friends checking in, making sure I was taking care of myself, providing me with distractions and kind words. I've also experienced cruelty, being told that my grief isn't warranted for a cat, or that enough time has passed. I've battled my own psyche, trying to justify the reasons why being kind to myself isn't a bad thing.

I'm still in a weird (I honestly don't know what word to use) spot about it all. I have regrets, I have guilt, I have a giant cat-sized void in my soul that I don't think I'll ever fill. I get frustrated thinking about how ridiculous that sounds, and then more frustrated, reminding myself that my pain is valid, because it is mine.

I hate when people ask how I'm doing, because the true answer is that I'm not doing that well. But explaining the finer details as to why, doesn't feel worth the trouble. There isn't a nice way to package it up with a pretty bow. Most of the time, I've been faking it, which I know isn't the healthiest coping mechanism in the world, but it's better than the alternative.

The one thing I kept secret, or at least as hidden away as I could, was how deep the depression truly got, especially in the weeks and months that followed his death. It being the holidays didn't help, as I was forced to be "present" for things I had absolutely no desire to be present for. I spiraled, hard. It took a very long time to dig myself out of the hole, and even now, even today, I'm still standing next to this metaphorical pit in the ground that could swallow me up at any minute. But at least I know it's there, and I've figured out ways to avoid it, even if it means tripping over the shovel into the mud every once in a while.

So. How am I doing? I'm still grieving. I'm sad. I find joy in the little things. I give myself space to work through the pain. I touch Petey's box/urn and pretend I'm mystical and can channel his spirit. I contemplate the universe, despite my earlier statement. I think about all the choices and decisions I've made that have brought me here today. I smell the towels in the linen closet where he used to sleep, and imagine the shadow I see out of the corner of my eye is him coming to beg for chicken nuggets. I write him into my dumb stories so he can live forever on the internet and be read about one day by aliens. I listen to evermore and weep and laugh and wonder if my cat really did find a way to brainwash Taylor Swift into playing it (and Peter) the day after he died.

If you took the time to read this, thank you. I did not write this for sympathy, or any other reason than to just get it out of my system, and to talk about a cat that very well might have traversed the cosmos to be with me when I needed him the most.

I'll see him again, one day.

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

DO NOT LET THE READER GREMLINS GET YOU

Okay.

So.

I feel so, so stupid for falling into what is probably a common and age-old trap.

I call them reader gremlins in my brain. They say things like "no one will believe this" or "before anyone takes you seriously as a writer, you have to do XYZ" or "this is so unrealistic, people are going to tear this apart"

For me, these reader gremlins are fueled by all the little things I pick up from other people's criticisms on media that happens to be similar to mine (which is one of the reasons I like to rb the posts that are all about encouraging you to write what you enjoy).

ANYway.

I felt stupid because I got trapped by one of those reader gremlins that said, "hey, this story idea is cool an all, but if you don't have at least a written timeline as to how the planets got from magic to space age so you can refer back to it when people ask, no one will believe the premise of your story."

I was feeding the cats when I realized that every single diverse-race sci-fi I've ever seen has simply said "okay, here's the world" and while yes, there's a plot that might get us from Then to Now, there's NOT a full cannon breakdown of the specific mineral composition found on every single planet and how the properties of each break down and HOW each species managed to produce steel and warp engines and plasma ducts and (fill in the blank). They kinda just...do. Because once you buy into the premise of a world, you've pretty much bought into it.

I'm not saying no one should attempt to explain these things because if that's something that the creator enjoys then go for it. BUT I let that stagnate my creative flow for that specific project. Because I let those 'reader gremlins' (call them that because it's criticisms that I imagine readers would give me) convince me to do all this work in the background that I...probably don't need to do. Now, if I WANT to come up with the mineral composition of the primary stone-like resource per alien planet and it's top five properties and how that relates to it's use in the given society, I CAN. But I don't think it's REQUIRED for me to look at people and say "I'm writing about fantasy races but in space because I think it's fun" because if they like it, they'll like it and if they don't, then it's not for them.

SO HA

Rant over.

[lovenliterature]

soft by choice

Whenever people praise me for being resilient, it feels strange Because, sure, I’ve survived every challenge, weathered every storm But can I tell you a secret?

I’m not certain all of me made it I didn’t make it through unscathed I survived because I didn’t have a choice

I am resilient out of necessity I stay soft and kind by choice

[aurora-alice]

It’s not good for your posture to study in bed buuuuuut I’m tired and I want to get through this lecture, alright?

If you’re wondering why I’m writing on paper: My computer has sadly died of old age. But it doesn’t matter because I like writing by hand!

[weniswastelandwenis]

So excited to share my new work with the writing community! Prepare to lose yourself in an immersive new world, where enemies become lovers, and friends become enemies...? Check out my story, "Clown Love" on AO3! Critiques welcomed!

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

a poem i wrote about wanting