I have spiders in my room. I don't bother them, and they don't bother me. Natural pest control. I did this morning have an unwelcomed guest. A yellowjacket. I have a window fitted AC, so these types of things happen often. But, this was the first time i watched nature take place in my room. This yellowjacket got caught in one of these spiders' web, with this smaller bug quickly surrounding the intruder, trapping it for good. I sat here on my bed, front row seat to this execution, watcging the yellowjacket thrust its stinger into the air, fighting helplessly against the vampire on its back. The fight drained so quickly, I saw the life fade to stillness, no mercy given. Maybe I'll think about some analogy or metaphor for this transaction later, just to be an edgelord, but it was fascinating to watch.

I think it is really weird how the colder months affect people, how the lack of sun affect how people feel and think, how the dark approaches quicker than it used to.

I've barely left bed all day today, haven't found it in me to talk to people both online and in person. I've been thinking a lot about the things that's happened last year, the things that's happened this year. It really, really sucks. Last year I lost a cousin and two friends just a month apart from each other, and this is my second Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas without them. It hurts even more that they all died those same months, with one of my friends passing two nights before Thanksiving.

Winter really is the era of death, not to intentially sound emo. There's a reason suicide numbers go up. The constand chill and the dark really is unforgiving. It takes without remorse, without kindness, and sometimes I wish it took me instead of my friends and my cousin. I don't have any worth compared to what theirs was. Hell, my cousin's funeral procession was more like a 4th of July parade, an actual celebration. What's my worth compared to him? Why was he taken and I left behind? The holidays mean nothing now. That remaining warmth is gone, and I think I'll spend the rest of my life cold.

Ho ricevuto questa domanda in italiano, quindi risponderò utilizzando un traduttore, quindi perdonate i miei errori, richiedente anonimo. Sì, continuerò ad aggiornare questo sito. È ancora attivo, ma sono stato impegnato con il lavoro e le attività per i dias los muertos. Non appena avrò altre idee per le funzionalità del sito, o qualcosa di cui valga la pena scrivere sul blog, lo farò. Grazie per la domanda!

There's like, only three places in my room Theodosia sleeps: At my neck when I go to bed, on my The Cure hoodie that I haven't worn in weeks because it's been too warm, or my computer chair that I don't use anymore. All has a trace of her left behind. Gray, black, auburn and cream fur in a perfect circle where she naps. I try to keep things as spotless as possible, but I often leave most of those places alone. If something happens to her-a thought i dread-that fur will be all that I would have left. A reminder of where she felt comfortable and safe to curl up and rest. She'll be 2 this November. I can't believe it's only been that long.

My sibling asked this anonymously, because i wanted to show them my (Censored) site because I'm proud of it. It was hard to think about it, since my school experience sucked major ass, but it's Theater, i think. Probably not. I don't know. English, maybe. All of my classes sucked, honestly.

Question from http://www.lehr.me, my first one! He asks what my favorite type of blood is, and honestly, I'm not sure. I haven't really been able to indulge in blood drinking, as much as I want to. I don't know if it's squeamishness, or if I'm nervous about giving in to these urges. But whenever I find out, I will post about it. Thanks for the ask!

Here's a shocker: The Edgelord running this site is into children's entertainment. But like, animatronics and mascots. Growing up watching Transworld walkthrough on Youtube and The Banana Splits on Boomerang altered my brain chemestry a bit, and being a kid in 2014 didn't help. For those still lacking context, Concept Unification was the merging process of Showbiz Entertainment and Chuck E. Cheese. Here's a video on what I'm talking about if you're interested.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fZdmbzc9GLo&pp=ygUTY29uY2VwdCB1bmlmaWNhdGlvbtIHCQmtCQGHKiGM7w%3D%3D

Now, to get into the heart of why exactly I'm making this journal. I don't know if it's hyper empathy that I feel this way, but to me, the concept of this merge is a psychological, body horror nightmare. I can't help but to personify these animatronics, feeling a sense of horror as they're stripped of what they used to be, transformed into something else entirely, changed, forgotten. Repeating myself, this is body horror at its finest. Things are beyond your control, beyond your say, stripped of all autonomy, identity, until only your bones contain what you once were. Do they still remember who they were? They're given new thoughts, a new voice, a new script to play out, but does the name Fatz ring a bell to Munch? Would Helen have a vague recollection of cheer practice or that she used to love Michael Jackson once upon a time?

This concludes a pointless thought train of things that don't matter in the end, about robots that were never alive to begin with. But I can't help but to feel bad, and wish I can find a real horror movie that explores something like this.

I've been trying to heal alone, from traumas, disorders and depression. I can't have access to therapy, so with the support of my gf, I've been traversing these murky waters. For about three years, I thought I would be okay. Lately though, I've been feeling hopepless, numb, having to mask again, experiencing the temptations of falling back into old coping mechanisms that I've been thankfully finding ways to distract from. But it's got me thinking that maybe everything is all for nothing. That's the main reason I'm working on this site. I need a void to scream out to, away from my usual social medias, faceless so I can talk about my woes and frustrations, and I hate giving Her my load to bear constantly. Don't get me wrong, I stil go to Her, but it makes me feel like scum to whine to Her every few hours. I knew already healing and recovery would be hard to go through on my own, but I've started to feel as if it's all for nothing, like my progress never mattered, that really ANYTHING doesn't matter, that even glancing at socials is forced doom scrolling ,everyone talking about the same thing. Engaging with what used to make me happy is flooded with the horrors of the world around me, and I can't escape it. At this point, just my cat and Her are the only ones giving me motivaton to continue on. I promised I would marry Her, and there's no one to care for Theodosia if I'm gone.

After being unemployed since April, after so many ignored applications and searching, I'm finally employed again. Which means I won't have to rely on the rare art commissions to get by. It's more steady than my last job, and I seem to be getting the hang of it quick, but I really don't exactly know what my pay is unfortunately, I heard that it was 8 bucks an hour, but I don't know if that's just what they told my stser because she's a minor with less hours, or if that's the set pay for all employees. I'll probably figure it out tomorrow. Today was only my first day.

I can only hope this job is a little more reliable and that I'm not overworked and underpaid like I was my last job.

~~~~~

So there's that personal update out of the way, and now it's time for a rant/vent I guess. These past few years, I've been slowly accepting parts of myself that I can't exactly help or control. As someone with Christian guilt and always encountering Morality Cops across the enternet, it's still so difficult to accept these darker aspects of me. I've already come to terms and accepted what is generally weird by vanilla people, but common in bdsm spaces, but it's still these morally questionable and impossible aspects of me that I still continue to surpress and try to run from. I feel disgusting.

I once saw someone on tiktok mentioning how kids are easily influenced and how how my generation and the one after me have and will continue to experience unrestricted internet access, to explore spaces not suited for us or them, to have our developing minds tarnished by the darker internet, to adults infiltrating children spaces and creating content for childrens' shows that's borderline fetish content, or just to warp and distort cartoon characters into nightmare fuel. This unrestricted access influences its young viewers. raymundo2112 made videos of how the Brony culture of the time left kids with ptsd and fetishes that are impossible to act out in real life, fetishes and kinks that even now as adults they can hardly funtion with. I'm one of those people.

At such a young age I was introduced to LiveLeak, Funkytown, ero guro, self harm glorification... And I unfortunately admit that it's a fetish now. To see torture, bodily harm, death in lingerie, it excites me, and I hate how it's an intrusive thought and a meanss of getting off. I know that this ramble paired with the aesthetic of this site, of everything, it seems like I'mjust another edgelord trying to shock and get a rise out of people, but it's not. It's real, and I have such a deep hatred of myself for what I'm into. I even told my girlfriend about this an hour ago, wondering how the hell that she's able to love me knowing what goes on in my brain. I don't know if she's really just accepting of me, or if she refuses to see that I am just that sick. I don't even know how to tell her that I fantasize about her riding my cold, mangled corpse.

I saw Ghost last night, and even though the seats that my family picked were absolute dogshit, I still managed to have fun. I can barely speak, and I sound like I've been smoking for longer than I've been alive whenever I do, but I have memories now that I'll remember for the rest of my life.

I'm not one to interact with people. I can't stand the public, but I met strangers that I feel like I've always known, I've met with people I haven't seen since High School, and my voice was among the thousand that sang. Monstrance Clock felt personal. It all felt personal. The closest I ever felt to spirituality in years, the closest I've gotten to feeling the warmth of some sort of religion since I was a kid and believed God cared about me. I don't think I'll ever feel that again.