Documenting history is important,
We cannot repeat mistakes.
If we don’t remember, it will happen again and again.
War, slavery, lies, wooden stakes.
Wooden lies, enslaved war, again and again.
Happenings, will it remember?
Don’t we?
If mistakes repeat, can’t we?
Important is historical documentation.
Untitled. Blank. Unknown.
We don’t label things we don’t care about.
We shrug it off, for it doesn’t matter.
Doesn’t it? For off, it shrugs us about.
Caring, not d
The High Priest of Plot staggered through the temple, bleeding. The end had truly come, just as the Dreamsmith had warned him. Demons had come from the sky, thousands of them, attacking the cliffside temple. The withergeists had returned to the Thread once more.
He gasped, clutching his side and slumping against the wall. The temple was burning . . . Blades above, he needed to get to the reliquary . . .
He had fought them off, the withergeists, but at great cost. The western wing of t
Restrained
Do you ever feel,
Restrained?
Do you want things,
You can’t have?
Or don’t have?
Or won’t have?
Do you feel like what you truly want…
…is wrong?
And therefore…
…you just continue along?
Not loving what you do,
But pretending to.
Not being passionate,
Not expressing yourself,
Not being you,
Not exploring,
Not fulfilling,
Your inner truth.
Have you ever been scared,
The smudge on my thumb is stubborn. It’s a deep, galaxy-purple stain that refuses to wash off, a leftover mark from mapping the Iron Peaks until two in the morning. I like the way it looks against my skin—a reminder that I can build something out of nothing.
I check the mirror. I don’t look for a person; I look for a vibe. The green turtleneck is clean, free of orange cat hair for at least the next ten minutes. I pull it on, feeling the wool hug my neck like armor.
An orange blur strea
💔
Tony
Tony opened the door to the classroom and hunched—trying to remain unseen—as he awkwardly moved through the room to find his seat. It was the first day of 11th grade, and yet Tony still felt like he was just starting high school. He barely knew anyone, and certainly had no friends. He rarely spoke more than a sentence to his classmates. He tried to avoid speaking in general.
Tony found his seat—luckily near the edge of the classroom—and set down his backpack quietly.
See previous day for part 1.
Day - pt. 2
Lily stood there, shocked. No one had ever wanted to spend time with her. No one had asked her to eat lunch with them. And here was Amy—someone Lily didn’t know but would certainly like to befriend—asking her just that. It felt great.
“Yeah!” Lily said, smiling. “That would be great!”
“Cool,” Amy said as they both walked out of the Statistics classroom.
As they walked to the dining hall—Lily shivering all the way, Amy bundl
Day
Lily woke up as they did any other day. Their brain suddenly turned on, and they groaned. They snuggled deeper into their covers, but the shrill alarm still sounded from their phone. And that phone—it was all the way across the room. Why had she put it their again? Oh, yeah. For moments like these, when she just wanted to sleep forever. It was so warm though. Why did she have to get up?
Lily lay in bed pondering her existence, and eventually the phone silenced itself. He drifted of
The first one's title describes its own creation.
Also, sorry I guess for all the posts, but I have a bit of a backlog.
Writing Past Midnight
Lily glanced at the clock on her laptop, then back at the pitiful paragraph she’d written. 1:56am. Damn it, she’d done it again. Lily had let the days slip by, pushing off the essay, always “I can do it tomorrow,” until she couldn’t. She literally couldn’t. It was due at the start of class tomorrow. In 7 hours. Lily didn’t know what t
Easy;Waste
IT’S EASY BUT IT’S NOT
or maybe i just don’t want to do it
IT SHOULD BE SIMPLE; I DO IT ALL THE TIME
yet i waste hours—delay hours—on what inevitably takes ten minutes.
WHY!! WHY MUST I DO THIS!!
i just do. i do. i...do. whether i like to or not.
I LIKE TO THOUGH!! AT LEAST…it depends.
and yet i write this. and yet i write this instead.
Just. Do. It.
Please.
Pressure…Surface
“I work best under pressure,” she says.
Some of these come from SUs...actually I think both of these are lol. So yeah.
24......2025..26
Twenty-twenty-six:
Did I ever have a life before this?
Was I truly I?
Twenty-twenty-five:
What was this amalgamation?
What happened in Spring? Summer?
I remember only Fall, Winter.
I remember only…what happened.
Split in two:
First and second “halves.”
With the second, and more prominent, leading to now.
Twent
I copy/pasted this from my SU
Alright, so I consider my favorite book, ORV, to be a pretty big aspect of my personality
I also realize that their may be a lot of you I haven't attempted to convert yet.
So.
TIME FOR A VERY LONG SU THAT I WILL PROBABLY REMAKE INTO A BLOG SO I CAN GIVE IT TO OTHER PEOPLE/COPY AND PASTE IT WHEN I WANT TO RECOMMEND ORV TO THEM!!!
History tiiiiiiiiiime!
End of history lesson.
Anyway, you know my greatest regret (and the main reason
In our corner of the internet, we spend an incredible amount of time dissecting the internal lives of characters. We analyze their growth and how their self-perception shapes the world around them. But this week, I decided to turn that analytical lens inward. I took a break from the theories to focus on a more personal project: The Pronoun Test Drive.
The concept was simple: spend seven days using a new name and pronouns in a controlled, safe environment to see if they actually felt like me
I hate AI lol
I have a few reasons why I am Anti-AI.
The first is a personal reason. I love software engineering. Whenever I code, I feel great, I truly love coding. I also love math, but less so. I am planing to major in data science, which does involve some coding but is less likely to be taken over by AI. I love Data Science, but Software engineering is just so much more fun. I have to be realistic, so that kind of crushed my dreams.
That is the usual argument used against AI,
The various color associations I have. Just for reference and stuff (and if you wanna know more about any of my TLT characters or anything)
Blue: connection
Red: pain
Black: failure
Purple: mischief (can be a hint of evil)
Green: pride
Gold: Innocence, youth
White: potential & possibility
Brown: trust
Orange: ferocity, passion
Pink: love, reverence
Hazel: change
1 cause there'll probably be additions to this that I've forgotten rn
The Mindscape is a creation of, and based on, my own brain, which means it tend to make little sense to others; hence this blog.
Key to the Mindscape is that it is full of contradictions that aren't contradictions; it is a separate realm with separate rules and physics, and thus what would normally be contradictions can exist simultaneously there. For example, distance. There is simultaneously no distance in the Mind
There is a specific kind of stuck that happens when you’re a trans girl in nerdy spaces. You spend years as a lurker—not just on the 17th Shard forums or Discord, but in your own life. You watch the main characters from the sidelines, hiding behind an avatar and a username that feels like a suit of armor you forgot how to take off. As we stare down 2026, I’ve decided that the Lurker Era is officially over. Transitioning isn't just about the medical milestones (though those are great); it’s about
Suits
classically for men
look really good on women and enbies
i hate wearing them
but it’s better than jeans and a tshirt
so I wear it in black to show my disdain
Dresses
classically for women
look very good on men and enbies
I love wearing them
but I have one
so I wear it alone in my room for no one to see
these two parallels, two opposite garments, two opposing opinions
The one scenario where I must wear this suit
Th
Aaand that's the end of the catching-up. Here are two poems I wrote today. Hope you enjoy :3 And if not...that's okay too :3 Sometimes poetry can be boring...at least in my experience.
So Much;Too Little
So much I want to accomplish—try—explore.
So many ideas—thoughts—unborn creations.
So much time—or so they say.
So little time—is what I feel.
I have obligations—of higher priority.
I have free time—but no motivation.
I have countless ideas—u
Repetition
I sit here in this stifling place.
While you drone on, you drone.
What you say is meaningless, though.
You simply repeat what we already read.
Why did I read it, if you're gonna say it?
Sure, you add some.
But you know what I think?
You.
Are.
Talking.
To.
Yourself.
I raise my hand—you ignore it.
A moment later—you steal my thoughts.
You just want to hear your own voice.
You just want to act like you
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