#also does not help that my insomnia kept me awake all night & now I gotta get ready for work in zombie mode lmFAO

[twistedappletree]

I feel so unproductive and unimaginative lately idk why I honestly haven’t even been writing or drawing much bc of it 😭

#reminder that I’m always accepting ideas for zhuiling and zhenyi and (nonromantic/platonic) junior dynamics #if the idea sparks enough inspo in me I’ll write a ficlet and post ✨ #but tbh I think I’m just tired from having so much going on ajdhajhd October has been insanely busy for me idk why #apple babble 🍎 #also does not help that my insomnia kept me awake all night & now I gotta get ready for work in zombie mode lmFAO

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

#eeek #i hope you all like this #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan #James Buchanan Barnes #James Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst

[chiliiscereal]

Prompt idea: the turtles with a friend or s/o that sleep walks.

Turtles with and S/o that sleepwalks

———-

So I based this off how my cousin sleep walks hope you don’t mind :)

Raph:

-home boy freaked out the first time he saw you sleepwalk

-he was up at night getting some cake but when he saw you walking by HO HO BOY did he jump out of his skin

-no one else was awake and you practically materialized out of the shadows!

-he eventually calmed down enough to realize that you weren’t awake

-I mean, it wasn’t exactly obvious

-you sort of walked around aimlessly a while mumbling

-that wasn’t really something sleeping people did..

-“babe, what’re you doin’ up? It’s 1 in the morning!”

-“I gotta put the salami CD’s in the chicken coop”

-“umm.. what?”

-once it finally clicked he didn’t exactly know what he should do

-was it a myth that you weren’t supposed to wake up a sleepwalking person?

-was there some sort of side affect?

-instead of intervening he just sort of sat at the table and watched

-he didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong but he also didn’t want you to get hurt

-he found himself getting up a couple of times when he thought you were gonna run into a table, moving it out of the way at lightning speed

-Other than that you were fine

-you simply walked back into your room and shut the light off

-he asked about it the next morning and you told him you sleep walk if you’re really tired

-and, sadly, being in highschool meant that you were tired all the time

-apparently you’d done it since you were little and you were used to it by now

-Raph didnt exactly know what he should do about it

-you told him you were fine and that he should leave you be, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you

-he decided the best course of action was to help behind the scenes

-that meant making sure you didn’t stay up late

-if you slept walked when you were really tired then he’d stop you from that state of feeling

-he had an alarm set for when he’d start hinting that it was bedtime

-he’s unplug the WiFi if you didn’t get the message (subtly of course) and then he’d turn around and tell you that the WiFi always got spotty when it was late

-he’d even stay up a little later to see if you were going to sleep walk

-if not then he’d head straight to bed

-but sometimes you still did it

-he’d found the best option was to just pick you up and place you back in your room

-“but the salami CD’s...”

-“they’ll still be there in the morning.”

-he’d pull you close to him and let you snuggle in close, the two of you sitting on your

-he always left before you woke up though

-yet you knew he had been there

-it was hard not to know when you woke up with a huge dip in the other side of your bed

-the two of you had a system and it worked

Donnie:

-Donnies already up and working by the time you start walking around

-the thing is, he didn’t realize you weren’t awake for probably an hour

-you were just walking from room to room and occasionally picking things up

-he was used to you being up late in his defense

-but when you ignored him or started mumbling... yeah that ripped him off

-“babe can you pass me the screwdriver?”

-“no, the radishes aren’t condensed.”

-“...I’m sorry?”

“Radishes.”

“Are you even awake?”

“I gotta go condense the radishes before Mikey finds out.”

-this boy was educated on the sleepwalking in a matter of seconds via research

-he knew you needed the rest so he never woke you up

-instead, he would find wherever you were walking around and have you stay in his room while he worked

-you never broke anything and it was nice to not be alone in a way

-besides your sleepwalking never lasted for long

-often it ended with you wandering over to him and slumping against his shoulder

-that meant he got to hold you while the night was quiet and peaceful

-the next morning you always woke back up in your own bed

-Donnie denied that he ever had anything to do with your sleepwalking

-but all you had to do was test it out to find the truth

-you walked into his room without a word one night and he didn’t even seem surprised

-“you good babe?”

-you chose not to say anything, you just kept walking

-“how are those condensed radishes doing?”

-you didn’t know what that meant but you assumed it was something you said in your sleep

-“you’re awfully quiet tonight. Usually you don’t stop talking.”

-you sit down beside him and place your head on his shoulder

-boy doesn’t even hesitate in pulling you closer and going back to work

-you don’t bother telling him that you know

-it’s nice to have someone looking out for you

Leo:

-oh he found out the first time you slept walked

-even brought it up casually the next morning

-he has insomnia so anything that happens after hours he’s already aware of it

-for the first few nights it was him joking about the cause being something supernatural

-he stopped when he thought you were getting offended though

-he diiiiid however say you were the sleep to his insomnia

-he can’t sleep at night and nothing can wake you up!

-you two balance each other out!

-and believe me, he has TRIED to wake you up to no avail

-doesn’t matter if it’s a loud noise or shaking your shoulder, nothing will wake you up

-unfortunately, since he’s always awake, he gets to see everything you do while wandering around

-AND he gets to see it while recording

-he’s got videos and videos of the random nonsense that comes out of your mouth

-and if he ever finds you cleaning in your sleep heaven knows he’s gonna find a way for you to take care of some of his chores to

-“come on, babe! You were already folding clothes! What’s a few extra?”

-he does find himself having to emergency portal you at times

-like the time you nearly walked off the skate ramp

-he portalled you into his arms as quick as he could

-“who decides to put a skate ramp right where people can fall down it?” He’s mumbling as he carries you back to his room

-having you there helps his insomnia very much

-in a way you’re both helping each other

Mikey:

-took the longest time to realize you sleepwalk

-if took him a whole two months

-usually you stayed in your own room

-he only realized when you walked into his room started picking up his art supplies while he was painting

-usually when he was painting you would plop down beside him and ask him questions (all during the day)

-but now you were picking up brushes and mumbling about how you needed to save the tomato’s before the bear ate them all

-poor baby ran to Donnie, thinking you were sick or delusional

-his older brother casually explained that it’s probably just sleep walking and he calmed down

-he was a little freaked out but grew used to it after a couple more night of it

-doesn’t really understand why you sometimes do normal things in your sleep like cleaning or fixing a sandwich

-still finds himself helping you out though

-he’ll be right next to you, folding clothes or passing you the mayo

-recently he found out he can ask you questions and get pretty funny answers

-“do you prefer hot dogs, hamburgers, or pizza?”

-“soggy bread.”

-“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”

-always keeps you updated the next morning

-it embarrassed you to no end

-he didn’t need to hear all that stuff!

-one night he asked a less casual question

-“so how do you feel about Mikey?”

-“I would eat a thousand soggy breads for Mikey if he asked.”

-“r-really?”

-“of course. I love him!”

-that was the first time you openly said you loved him

-honestly his heart stopped for a few seconds

-he brought it up that next morning and no, you wouldn’t eat a thousand soggy breads if he asked

-but yes, you loved him to pieces

#rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt headcannons #save rottmnt #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt imagine

[sewercentipede]

the night sweats from crohns (probably also helped by my poor circulation cuz I don’t work out, i rlly need to be jogging again n that’s my fault) are just fucking unbearable. changing my clothes several times a night bc I wake up an hour after falling asleep and I’m just drenched in sweat. every night .

it sucks cuz nothing at all makes it stop immediately except if I take opiates before bed. that’s the only way to prevent me from waking up hour after hour in a pile of sweat. those r the only nights I am free from that shit. idk what they do to temperature regulation but whatever it is, it fucking rules

they happen to be the only effective sleeping aide for me too now. ambien (which I have no tolerance to at all) doesn’t keep me asleep for more than like 30 mins to an hour then I’m wide awake (and drenched in sweat). benzos don’t even make me fall asleep. tizanidine is the original thing my doctor prescribed for insomnia might still work , I think it does, n it kept me asleep longer than all else I’ve tried (like a good 4 hrs) except opes , but I have one pill left and I haven’t seen that doctor in years. I gotta just make an appt n get a new script I just hate dealing with the other stuff like pushing antidepressants on me . n he’s always booked for months . maybe a new psych with more openings would do it since I’ve already been prescribed it

#shocked at the lack of effect ambien seems to have on me #autoimmune disorders #ibd #drugs #autoimmune disease

[gasstationshane]

I was driving to Los Angeles with my brother Mark, when my life changed forever. He had just graduated from high school, and accpted into the same college that I was going to. We with were on a road trip to Los Angeles so I could show him all the good spots for food and other needs as well as celebrating his graduation. Mark kept changing the radio or the music on the bluetooth speaker about a few hours or so after getting out of the Michigan border. At least it felt like a few hours, but it honesty could have been longer. Time flies when your driving.

At one point, we had to be bluetooth only for our road trip music, since the radio signal was so bad that all we were getting was nothing but fuzzy feedback. It's funny, you think with as advanced the way technology is these days, they'd have something to stop dead zones. But I guess people that make these things focus on one problem at a time. I wouldn't know exactly, despite me being a gamer and hopefully a graphic artist someday.

When we got even deeper into the woods that we were driving into, it started raining hard. Mark couldn't help but chuckle.

"You gonna be able to drive okay if it storms, or do I gotta take over?" He asked, teasing me about my fear of thunderstorms. I looked up through my window, and I was confused as hell. It was raining, pouring and a storm was about to hit. And yet, there was not a cloud in the sky. It was night time, but with all the stars shining, it was easy to tell. I sighed and shook my head.

"No I'll be fine, but I'll pull over the moment I feel like the storm is gonna effect my driving." I answered him in a slightly louder voice than usual, the rain hitting the car being loud. It's weird, even though thunderstorm's scare the living hell out of me, I enjoy the sound of rain hitting windows and cars. If the thunder is loud and hitting fast, like an elephant that just saw a mouse, I become filled with panic and freak out.

I heard thunder roll, and I sighed. It wasn't loud, but thunderstorms are like sloths. Slow and determined. I looked out the window once again, the starry night sky filled with dark clouds. Mark seemed to notice the difference between now and when it started raining.

"Are we ahead of the storm or something? How the hell did we get no clouds to a full on overcast?" He asked, just as confused as me. I shrugged.

"No idea. The rain more down south could be different than back home but who knows man." Suddenly, more thunder rolled. It was louder than before and I could feel it make the steering wheel vibrate. I pulled over, feeling my body already begining to shake. I hated how bad my fear of thunderstorms was. It was embarrassing that a 21 year old could stop doing anything instantly, just by hearing thunder. Mark reached over, rubbing the back of my shoulder gently.

"It's okay bro, I'll drive so you can get some rest." I nodded in response, getting ready to undo my seatbelt so we could switch seats. Mark already had his off. I took longer due to the shaking. My hands kept slipping and I almost had it when I saw a very bright light. I looked out through the windshield, seeing a semi truck. Once my eyes fully focused, I saw that the truck was swerving. My eyes widened. He was on the wrong side of the road.

My fear turned into a panic and my fight or flight mode, my body instantly honking the horn and trying to put the car in reverse so I could get us out of the way. The truck didn't go back to it's side of the road, and the car was moving slowly.

"Shit! Mark get out!" I shouted to my brother as I looked at him before going back to trying to get my seat belt off. It was stuck, making me growl in frustration as I desperately tugged at it. Suddenly, the truck hit us, making my body slam against the seat belt before violently pushing me back against the car seat. I squeezed my eyes shut out of fear. I heard a loud smack before hearing Mark cry out in pain, I looked towards him to see if he was okay, but the air bag went off, hitting my face without warning and knocking me out within seconds.

When I was awake again, I looked around. I was somehow still in my seat, the seat belt still clicked into the holder. I looked around the car, Mark no where to be found. Panic once again surged through my body, making finally get that damn seat belt off. I got out of the car, looking around for Mark and calling out his name.

When I found him, he was laying a foot or so away from the car. He had a bruised gash on his forehead that looked like he purposely slammed it onto a rock, a few shards of glass from what I could only assume was the windows or even the windshield scattered into his chest. I ran over to him, shaking him slightly.

"Mark! Wake up buddy. Come on we gotta get you to the hospital. Dad's gonna kill us, but it'll be okay." I said, trying to get him up. He didn't budge. I stared at him blankly, hoping like hell he'd show me some form of movement. But.. Nothing happened... Before I knew it, I was already crying. My brother was dead.. And it was all my fault.

I screamed in frustration, pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing 911. I heard a beeping and looked at the screen. No signal.. "Shit!" I shouted, running down the road to try to find help as quick as possible. My emotions were really fucking me up on the inside... I could literally feel my stomach burning. After about a mile, I saw a gas station on the side of the road. Oh thank God! Maybe now I can actually get some help.

Before I could walk in, a huge raccoon jumped out of a bush in front of me, causing me to fall on my ass. I looked at the furry trash panda, confused. When I said he was huge, I didn't mean he was fat. This guy was so big that if he stood on his hind legs, he'd be three feet tall at least.

Something else strange that I noticed, as he came closer to me. He was carrying a small amount of what looked to be a couple dollar bills in his mouth. What.. The fuck? Why was a Raccoon carrying cash with him.. Don't they usually steal food or some shit? Before I could scare him away, he dropped the bills into my hand and got close to my face. He nuzzled me with a purr before heading back to the woods, leaving me there confused with bills in my hand that was dripping with raccoon drool.

Normally, I'd be grossed out at this point but I had more important things to worry about. I got up and walked into the gas station. "Hey, do you have a phone that actually works? I've been in a bad car accident and I need a ambulance. I'm pretty sure my brothers dead.." I explained, panting heavily from panic as I looked at the cashier. He looked to be about my age, but clearly needed a good nights sleep.

He had dark circles under his eyes that even made me feel tired after the shit I've been through. I saw the name tag on his shirt. His name was Jack. Jack... Why does that sound familiar? I shrugged it off as I got closer to the counter.

He looked up from the book he was reading before using a crutch to stand up against the cash register, sighing softly like I interrupted something important. He must've been at a good point in his book to have that reaction.

"If you wanna use the phone, it's twenty five cents a minute. Pay in advance, no exceptions." He said as he looked at me, seeming to think that I wasn't in a serious situation. So that explains why the raccoon gave me those bills earlier... But how did he know. There was a strange familiarity about the place. A guy named Jack that works at a gas station in what felt like the middle of nowhere, who also looked like the word sleep had absolutely no meaning in his vocab. A quote from a blog I read a while back came to my head.

'At the edge of town...' Then a bunch of details I couldn't remember at the moment "... Theres a shitty little gas station, open twenty four hours a day, seven days a week." I also remembered the blog mentioning something about a three foot tall raccoon named Rocco. Then it hit me. I wasn't at just a gas station. I was at THE gas station. The one that was talked about on a blog called 'tales from the gas station' by a guy known as gas station Jack. And that very Jack, was right in front of me. Well.. That explains the raccoon. That was Rocco.

"Holy shit!" I blurted out, unable to hide my fanboying. "Your gas station Jack! Author of tales from the gas station! Dude!" He looked back at me with a look of shock. This is the most awake he looked during our interaction. But now that I know who I was dealing with, the whole sleep deprivation look made sense. If I remember correctly from the blog, he had fatal familia insomnia. Meaning, he couldn't sleep. At all.

"You've read my blog?" He asked a bit confused. I nodded and smiled softly, ignoring my body shaking violently from the accident.

"Hell yeah! I've also listened to it being read by Mr. Creepy Pasta." I stated proudly, hoping he'd appreciate that detail. He sighed, crossing his arms. I was surprised at how well he was able to balance himself on his crutch.

"Are you sure your not making this up to get a free phone call? Because it's not gonna work. No exceptions. And no alternative forms of payment either." He said before repositioning himself so his arms were resting on the counter. I laughed and shook my head.

"Nah, I'm not the kind of guy that would use your Internet fame against you." I handed him both the dollar bills, not sure how long the call would be.

"Thankfully, Rocco gave me some cash before I came in here." I explained as he took the bills. He was gonna ask about Rocco, but decided against it once he remembered the situation I was in. He spun the egg timer and handed me the phone. Within in a matter of minutes, I had explained the accident I was in and was told that help was on the way.

I gave the phone back to Jack and thanked him, before heading back to the scene of the accident. They wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance with Mark, explaining that they needed room so the paramedics could start working on taking care of him. Instead, I rode in the passenger side of the cop car, with deputy Amelia O'Brien driving. I kept quiet, secretly happy that it was her that gave me the ride. She was another Character in Jack's blog. It was so cool to know that not everything he put in the blog was made up.

"He's gonna be fine." She started, snapping me out of my thoughts. "It looks like he hit his head on the dashboard. He's knocked out and possibly in a coma." I frowned, looking away. Maybe she was just trying to convince me that I wasn't responsible for my brothers death. A wave of guilt washed through me, the pain and burning I had felt in my stomach hours earlier had came back. I couldn't tell if I was gonna throw up all the stomach acid in my body, or explode. I was cringing and O'Brien had pulled over to the side of the road. I opened up the car door and fell out onto my knees. I felt like I had just gotten the worlds worst flu. I'm sure my body temperature exceeded one hundred, my hair and skin were already drenched in sweat. O'Brien stood next to me, calling in for another ambulance. And suddenly... I blacked out...

To be.. Continued..

#tales from the gas station #tftgs #tftgs fan blog #werewolf from the gas station #gas station shane #shane from the gas station

[godzillamendoza]

Leaving Behind 2017 - Relationships are haaaarrrrdddd

So much to some people’s surprise I’m sure, I’ve been with a couple girls this past year. Like real ones, not those ones that holographically project themselves over prostitutes that you can install in your ceiling. (does anyone get that joke? No one saw that movie but me, right?) Ah jeez.

Gotta learn to quit automatically deflecting with humor when something stressful comes up. Gahh! This is a healing/learning experience. 

Okay, so context is important. I know all of this is stuff from before 2017, but it leads into how this year went so its important to cover: in 2015 I had my first girlfriend, whom I shall not refer to by name. She and I dated on and off for about 5 months and it was the first real relationship I had been in. We started dating after I told her no 2 times. The third time she asked me to be her boyfriend, her friend was there and they sort of pressured me into it so I just went with it. Then I had my first kiss with a crowd of her friends standing around me, watching to make sure I followed through on the day after. The majority of our conversations were through text or skype, even though we went to the same school. She was just too busy to ever hang out with me outside of school. She was often jealous of me talking to other girls, she mocked me constantly and called all my hobbies “nerd shit” and rolled her eyes at me when I said I didn’t want to smoke weed with her. Then she told me she’d be hanging out with a guy named Patrick at her house after she met him over snapchat. I was obviously a little worried about it and she told me I was being controlling and needed to back off, so I did. Then a week later I tracked down Patrick and confronted him, asking why she was suddenly so cold and distant. He bragged to me about how good of a time they had together and how she complained about me constantly. He said the sentence “she’ll be mine by the end of the week.” Being cheated on by your first girlfriend in addition to some emotional abuse and being kept at a distance constantly... well all of it is like a perfect storm of PROBLEMS that you’ll have to deal with later. We broke up after I told her that I knew what they did, though it was like 2 weeks later because I was naive and forgiving at first. She’s dated around 5-7 people since that venture ended 2 years ago, so clearly she learned a lot from it. She also offered to go out with my again while she was dating another guy, which caused me to... well let’s just say I wrote a very long, very mean spirited message that I don’t regret.

Naturally, after all that, my self esteem was subterranean. I had a lot of image problems due to her comments on my appearance. I had severe trust issues with... well pretty much everyone. I had problems liking myself and I just needed outlets to focus on while I was lost. So I started making more videos on comic book stuff. While I was dating this girl I made a short video essay/editorial thing on my thoughts for casting Spider-Man in the Marvel cinematic universe. She was quick to dismiss it, but I felt like it was the first thing on YT that I was truly proud of and I wanted to make more. After we broke up I did that video about Spider-Man videogames you might have seen once or twice. It currently has over 400 THOUSAND views. I owe it to this girl I suppose, she made me so miserable that I accidentally became a z-list internet celebrity to take my mind off being miserable. It didn’t exactly fix my emotional issues, but it was a coping method that was better than becoming a meth addict or something.

--so on to 2017. This was the year where I started dating again. Obviously I would still have a lot of baggage after that first girl and everything that happened with her. I met a rather mousy girl in high school who I’ll refer to as... uh... how about Sandra? That’s extremely far off from her real name. Sandra. Well anyway, I met Sandra in high school and we kinda became friends. I wasn’t all that attracted to her physically. I’m still not. She’s not ugly, nor is it a shallowness thing, she’s just not really my type. I’m not the guy to just “take whatever I can get.” So it was a difficult decision when she told me how utterly heartbroken she was when she had no date to prom. I figured it would give me a good excuse to go to the prom and I would be making someone else happy, so I took her. And from that point forward she became rather infatuated with me and I made the hideous mistake of “just going with it” so I didn’t hurt her feelings. I tried my damnedest to find things to like about her as a girlfriend, but we were really a pretty bad fit. Plus, we had this sort of non-commital and strange relationship where we didn’t consider ourselves a couple, but still ended up holding hands or hanging out outside of school a lot. Sandra had never dated anyone before and I was a trainwreck because of the girl from 2015, so it was this stilted and halfhearted attempt at romance. 

She wrote me a letter once, confessing her feelings about me and the way she thought of me at night. She was too nervous to give it to me in person, and had a mutual friend deliver the note. It was full of grammatical and spelling errors, and her handwriting lacked something to be desired. I was both honored... and slightly put off by it. She was 18 years old, with her own car and a paying job, but her methods of going after this relationship reminded me of the silly things I did in 5th grade. I guess that’s when I realized that I couldn’t keep leading her on and that it wasn’t really meant to be. I was looking for something a little more serious and age appropriate, but she still couldn’t handle something like that and I didn’t really feel for her how she felt for me. So I... just couldn’t figure out what to tell her. I ended up using graduation as a means to distance myself. We were moving off to different colleges with different goals and ambitions. I felt guilt for a long time for just brushing her off without saying anything beyond “I’m not really at a good place for a relationship right now, mentally.” Which was the truth, but I felt like I could have said more. We’ll put a pin in the story of Sandra for the time being, because it has a more clear resolution later. 

Shortly before graduation, I received a piece of fan art on twitter that was truly special. It was probably one of the most accurate and detailed pictures of me anyone had ever drawn. Whoever did it clearly spent a lot of time staring at my old mug to make it happen and I was really impressed with it. I showed it to my classmates to not-so-humbly brag about my following online (come on, I had to be excited about something SOMETIMES, its not like I did it more than that one time). Then to my surprise I saw that there was a particularly pretty girl in the profile picture of the person that sent me this piece of fan art. I think my female audience is kind of small, so I was really happy to see one of them sending fan art and kind words. Plus I thought she was cute. 

I sent her a DM on twitter saying that I thought it was really cool and probably one of my favorite pieces of fan art ever, she responded and we just kind of started talking from there. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her. We had a SCARY amount of things in common. Like, favorite comics, movies, books. We shared a similar sense of humor, we had the same extremely jaded reaction to fictional violence and laughed while looking at covers of “Crossed” together. We even took the same type of antidepressant medication. I fell for her really quickly, probably in the first 15 minutes of what would be a 9 hour conversation. Of course our mutual insomnia kept us from caring about sleep and we just kept talking and sharing stories and pictures of cosplay. I felt like I had never felt before. For the sake of protecting her identity, let’s say her name is uh... Lila. Sure, some of you internet detectives might be able to find out her real name, but I ask you... please don’t harass her or ask her about any of this. Respect her privacy, respect her decisions, and respect her in general. 

So, Lila and I made an amazing match it seemed. She made me feel... like I had been found after being lost again. Part of me resigned to this notion that I’d never meet a girl who I had things in common with. Maybe I’d live my life with my interests and dreams being silly to the women I spent my time with, or worse, boring. Lila treated me like the things that I did and talked about were interesting. She thought I was cool. It helped undo a lot of self loathing just talking to her for that first 3 days. I was walking with a spring in my step at school for the final few days, I was singing in my choir class instead of just lip syncing, I was acting like I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, because at least she thought I was interesting, and that was all I needed. In a way, just meeting her was what I needed to get over a lot of pain, and I’ll always be thankful for her giving that to me. We didn’t have to be in a relationship, I just needed the validation of knowing girls like her existed. She stayed up until 4 Am with me on school nights, talking with me through text or skype helping me stay awake to finish studying for my geography test. We spent hours just talking about our lives and what we thought of the world. We shared our experiences battling depression. Eventually she told me that I made her happy when nothing else could and I said the same. In almost a week it felt like we knew each other for a life-time. So at 3 AM one night I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes. The problem with that was... she lived in a different country.

 I never really considered that part until after it was too late. Long distance relationships have always seemed like a huge gamble to me, but I was willing to risk it for Lila. And for about a month, it was working REALLY well. We would watch movies together on skype, share ideas for cosplays, and just chat until the sun came up every night. She even helped me bake apology cupcakes for my mom at 5 AM after I carved a spider logo into the kitchen table on accident. I was feeling freaked out because I felt genuinely happy for the first time in two years and I was just waiting for some anvil to fall on me and everything to be ruined. But the distance and our age became a problem. We were both at the very end of high school, just about to go to college and unsure of where life would go. She mentioned that she was thinking about traveling abroad to go to college. I had a conversation about it with my mom and BOY did she take it far immediately. “Ask her to go to your college! She could move in with us! We have the room now! You could drive her to school every day and eventually get your own place and get married and have kids and blah blah blah blah...”

My mother was just excited. She’s also been going through relationship problems too in the last year, and was just living vicariously through me. My mom wanted something to be stable and long lasting and fun, but she didn’t realize that it was too early to ask Lila for these things... and I... like a complete idiot... asked Lila if she wanted to go to college with me and live in America with me. I pretty much asked her to move in with me after knowing her for 6 weeks. She still had a lot to learn about me, and vice versa. We were worlds apart and it would have been a huge step if she only lived down the street, let alone in a different country. I shouldn’t have asked, and I ESPECIALLY, shouldn’t have asked more than once. I still feel like an idiot for it to this day and it was nearly 6 months ago. Then things started getting worse, mostly due to my previous relationships bleeding into my actions. 

The girl I dated in 2015 cheated on me because I was so hesitant to be physically intimate with her. That creates a lot of doubt and shame, so I started asking Lila how she felt about that sort of thing if we were to meet in person one day. She became uncomfortable with the subject and I very awkwardly tried to steer the conversation away from it. Then a message meant for someone else accidentally got sent to her without context that SEVERELY damaged the situation. When being asked about the price of something by a friend, I sent back a number, which went to Lila and without context “... about 8.50″ looks VERY... weird? Maybe even kinda threatening if you misconstrue it the right way? I looked like the biggest creep/moron! So I tanked that 4 AM conversation pretty hard, and then listened to some very, very poor advice from a friend who said “just try to be casual with her about that stuff.” Because of my internal fears of her being bored with me if things didn’t get hot and heavy now and then, I started awkwardly making more casual references and jokes regarding sex over the following two days. It made her uncomfortable, and she kept quiet about it, so I kept doing it until I just couldn’t anymore. I had to tell her that I didn’t like it either and that I was doing it because I was worried she’d end up getting tired of a relationship where it wasn’t a factor. I held her to the same standards as the girl from 2015, and it was unfair. She wouldn’t cheat on me if I didn’t bring up intimacy constantly, and I was stupid for thinking she might. I won’t make excuses, but I will say why I did that. And I know I learned from it and won’t do that ever again. That made things a little more tense and over time, we started having other issues as well. 

Lila made an off handed reference to some passage of her diary she wrote about me in the last few days we talked. The thing she said concerned me, as it didn’t sound positive at all. I pressed her on it because I was worried it was just several pages of her listing off the things she hated about me. Eventually she broke and read it off, and it was just several pages of her listing off the things she hated about me. She disliked my dress sense and hated my clothes, she thought the way I ate food was stupid looking(???) she felt weird about dating me for my RACE, because apparently she didn’t talk to many white guys except me. She spent hours of her personal time writing about superficial things about me that she didn’t like, and thus my self image problem had returned and I didn’t wear button up shirts for 4 months. I asked her if there was anything she DID like about me, and after a long time of struggling to find something to say, she said she liked my sense of humor and that I was nice to her. Which are... kinda general reasons to like someone? Like, non-specific and sort of forced. Then over the next few weeks she started insulting me a lot more. She developed a habit of casually calling me a... derogatory term for homosexual... (not sure what twitter’s policy is on cussing and slurs, currently so I don’t want to say it) and saying hurtful things randomly. I figured it was time to accept that the honeymoon phase was over and that she didn’t like me nearly as much as she initially thought. She didn’t like me nearly as much as I liked her. Then the final straw happened. 

Being in a relationship with someone so far away can be stressful, because your ability to speak to them is entirely dependent on the use of the internet and all its various outlets. If she were to just decide one day she didn’t like using Facebook messenger anymore and delete it, I wouldn’t be able to speak with Lila through it unless I used something else. So when she casually deleted messenger one day, I just... couldn’t hear from her anymore. She never told me she was going to do it, so all of my messages to her on the first day went to no one. I decided to give her some space and assumed she just didn’t feel like talking. By day 5 I was a nervous wreck and assumed she died and had no idea where she was or what happened to her. I was losing sleep over it, my friend was checking police reports in her area, I messaged her on twitter asking if she was okay. I got no response and felt so scared. Eventually, my friend Damian messaged her on twitter myself and she responded in a few short hours, just saying she forgot to tell me about it and resumed talking to me on twitter like nothing happened. All that worry and anxiety turned to anger really quickly, because she was either trying to break up with me in an indirect way by ignoring me, or she was just being inconsiderate and actually forgot to tell me our main means of communication was going away for no specific reason. I didn’t resent her, but I was upset.

This caused me to think long and hard about the relationship and how it was doing after those short few months. We both made mistakes. I got way ahead of myself and was asking about very serious steps way too early, I let my distrust of people guide my decision to act like someone I wasn’t to keep her interest because of past experiences, and she undermined a lot of my self confidence and said some very toxic things. I wasn’t quite ready for a long distance relationship and I was still hung up on bad things from my past. She hadn’t dated anyone before and wasn’t really ready to commit, nor did she have much interest in it. We agreed that going back to being friends was better, before we started to hate each other. And of course, we talked less and less in the following weeks until not at all. We haven’t spoken in a few months now, and looking back I’m not proud of my actions or hers. I think in another life, another time, after we both did a lot of growing up, we might have made a really great team. As I said before, I’m still very thankful to have met her. I think just meeting her gave me a lot of hope and confidence that even she couldn’t really ever take away. I know now that I have a chance at meeting someone who doesn’t look at me like an alien. I know now that I can’t be distrustful and hold everyone to the same standard as people. I know now that if I were to try dating again, there are a lot of bad choices that I’d avoid (definitely wouldn’t be so damn clingy, ew). And I know now that the girl from 2015 isn’t the only girl on Earth who will be interested in me, I just have to look for another one. As for “Sandra,” I texted her midway through this last semester telling her that I felt guilty about the way things quietly drifted off, and we met up a few weeks before thanksgiving break. That night we tried one more time, going to a restaurant with no open seats and a 2 hour waiting time. She said she wasn’t hungry and we went back to her place where she had no food so I remained starving for that night. Her parents weren’t home, and we... spent the rest of the night looking at vacation photos on her phone. It was clear that the magic just wasn’t there, and I told her before I left that I appreciated her giving me the opportunity to tell her that it just wasn’t meant to be. She had no interest in the things I liked, and while I could see that she tried to like those things too, her heart wasn’t in it. So we ended things amicably like we should have months before. I was proud with how I handled it, and I felt as if though I was finally an adult when it came to my relationships. 

I don’t need another person to like me in order to validate my existence. I don’t need to have everyone in the world think I’m awesome. I don’t need to rely on someone constantly to maintain my self confidence and my image. I don’t need to date someone to avoid feeling lonely, because you can be just as lonely in a relationship as you are out of one. I don’t need to say and do things untrue to myself to keep someone interested in me, because if they lost interest when I act like myself, they aren’t worth my time. I don’t need to date someone to feel complete. I don’t need to date someone just because I don’t want to hurt their feelings by turning them down. If you’re feeling alone lately and having a hard time getting into a relationship, just remember you don’t need any of that. There’s always someone out there for you, and your interests don’t make you completely alone, even if it feels like there’s no one else in the world that shares them. Being into “nerd shit” doesn’t guarantee that you can’t find someone to love and care about, and even if someone loves the same stuff as you, it might not work out anyway and that’s perfectly fine. Just remember that the only person you need to believe in you is you and no one else can fix you but you. Try to find someone after you have all that stuff sorted out or you’ll just end up getting hurt again. 

In all reality, I don’t need a girlfriend at all, but I’d still like one because the company is nice. There’s a girl out there for me, and I’m going to avoid the mistakes I’ve made in the past, and I’m going to leave behind the baggage and tragedies that lie behind me. Who knows, maybe going into 2018, I’ll get to meet her. Let’s hope so.

#relationships #story

[tomaschronosart]

I can remember writing a story about a cackle of hyenas whom were mindlessly roaming The Unending Desert, from memory I had depicted them as these anthropomorphic creatures – nearly human enough to recall. I was in Mrs. Dyer's class, so grade 6. I remember how calm and confident I felt doing this particular task, it seemed like I knew how to flow and tap into some source from the get go.The feeling of calm comfortability was very rare for me. Mrs. Dyer played the entire class a song and requested we create a narrative based on our initial thoughts, feelings and reactions to the song. As a kid with a bed time, I mostly just passed out from exhaustion, instead of actually going to sleep… I would lie awake every night, wired, manic and fearful. I began writing stories in my head early on in an attempt to soothe and channel my chronic anxieties.. I had constructed the usual traumatized-child-fantasy-universe – a safe place where I could manifest the perception of control. I never minded sleeplessness, as it created an apt environment for cognitive free-running, I adjusted. My fantastical bedtime stories were vanilla, from memory.. drug cartels, mercenary adventures in the jungle, sci-fi opera journeys and sometimes just a regular old adventure where me and mine would acquire some kind of drug or person or thing. For a long time, I had an obsession with unearthing new control techniques to quench the thirst of my firmly embedded insomnia - I had stock-standard/methodical/repetitive stories that would take 2-3 ours to ‘create n complete’. If there was a satisfying and coherent beginning, middle and an end to te story, I could sleep. Nights were always hardest and darkest for me – I have no idea how old I was when my sleep hygiene began deteriorating. And though, sleeplessness was uncomfortable and I was never keen on being tired – After doing the reading recovery program, I could finally read, so I was quick to pick up the –read-in-bed- habit. I began hearing other peoples stories, a welcome change. if I was feeling particularly flowy, I’d organize one of my card collections. I would try to master some new drawing technique... but I could sit behind a computer for 18-24 hours straight and ride the wave playing some puzzle or anything else repetitive enough to numb my mind. I remember how icy cold I’d get during winter - how blue my hands would become after hours of sitting stationary at my desk.. I would leave my window open throughout the night to keep the computer cool, it lagged if it overheated. I used to think that if I didn’t pay any attention to the cold, I would not feel the cold. Before I was 10, I had not come across any one thing that transfixed me. I had not yet become addicted to anything yet, I think? – that is until Puzzle Pirates!!! Shit, when that fucker came into the picture.. well, I no longer gave a shit about anything but Puzzle pirates. I could not cope with the disconnection, exile and the incessant bullying I copped from my peers. The frustrated messes waiting for me at home were suckin down durries, grog and sugar as hungrily as the machines cha-chinning for their money at the pub. I still am heeding these calls I am too tired to remember. I am still sweeping the dust away from these things I cant forget. At times, I miss the calm comfortability of not needing drugs; I miss the warmth that seeped away whilst roaming the waking world; I miss my Lunar lover, who would speak to me in dreams/ through dreams i could See through, cast away, be at ease. I hold on Tightly- still, To whatever vice’ll’suffice. seeming to soothe and appease the beast / my early coping strategies of hermitage and avoidance, protect me from momentum Games and story telling and art replication – I wanted to draw cartoon characters, as I was exposed to their stories more than my own peoples. I can still remember the countless hours, days and weeks of social isolation and voiceless anxiety. Sugar – one of the quickest ways to soothe my boiling baby brain. I keep thinking of the root of this addiction as a loss or lack of social belonging , or maybe I am lamenting another warped perception of my self .. I remember that I was so emotive and empathic and open but also unregulated, neglected and full of painful confusion. I forget that I still am. I felt so damn old all the time. I remember the sunshine splattering through the windows, onto the dashboard of mums old Ford Laser. We were doing one of our usual trips to Warrandyte for her housekeeping job with then Heffernans. I remember looking out over the balcony at the rear of their place, taking in the kilometers of bush and possibility. I black out their olympic size swimming pool - i nearly drowned in it a few times. While I was peering out across the sky,I was fretting over forgetting how I came to be standing there. I did not understand how I forgot- I remembered the sunshine On my face, So I knew, I had gotten there, though I could not remember how. I wanted to be a boy. I was a boy. I became a girl, as expected. , football was a medium, a bridge for the repressed masculinity – I didn't like to exercise, I did not want to be made of aware of my breathing, bleeding bio sac. my body was unimportant and sickly and tired and stressed and depressed, chronically– I reflect now and see how maladaptive a depressive I am. Always, wanting to escape the confines of the very thing I want to inhabit and realize? //// ah!!! the system that creates its own dependence, to substantiate its usage of the finite well, shall never recognize its own self-destructive carelessness. For having ignored the infinite well, the system, as it stands, shall fall. And that well that never runs dry? Well, I always forget about it. I use everything I have ever touched// to coin a collection of concepts Only I can comprehend. But, this is making it easier. I can see a bit clearer now. I can ease into the next step, less weary than before. But why? The further away I wander, the more susceptible I am to rot. In time, these things will return … and of my soul? My soul shall ache and pupate once more, Forlorn, I remember///! how I forgot – to start, To stop. And who's justifications am I leaning towards now? My deep dwelling fears and my leering observations are erratic, Unsustainable, Confusing. THE MAD ARM OF THE Y – an obstruction arises along the path creating the crossroads of forever, Two new paths, the same old path. I am alone, finally – at peace. At ease, with my failures, for now. No mirror I stumble upon can stave off my stare, Why should they? to see through what I can only see when I Stop, start and Refresh is my responsibility. I am so sorry, that I show A me that thinks it can have something It is not worthy of. Give me nothing and give me everything - I have been in all of the wrong places. I know I think wrong, and that I have made it too hard on myself. I know these revelations have been a long time coming but- I sat there and I remembered, It is to me and to me alone that I must consort with. I seek council amongst my memories and I find shelter in my solitude. These flickering unrealities I thought were gone - Pls, just hold onto the everlasting, Try, bust through space and time and just- Breathe. My desire for my true end has faded, I see life again, manifest. The 10,000 directions in front of me, the Myriad forever, the calf of endless suffering howls my name so doggardly. And change and change and change And grow and grow and grow, And that's all u r doing and that's all U can do. individualism is not the thing That u share with me, nor I with u. I remembered just now, that Id like to talk with u and, Share space. How I miss fixing shit with you. How u and me, we used to sit in the park and heal our aching thoughts- Work'd be done and the day was forever- and the thoughts would come, and go. And I miss it cause it kept me closer to my people ��� for when I speak amongst my kin, I am Home and full hearted – But I lost all my chill, I lost all my capitol, frankly. Then - it snow balled, as it always does. I feel I have been too sad to be a friend, too fucked to really feel love, I fear I am to scattered to comprehend my responsibilities And I’m too damn lonely to ask for help. And so what? Now what? Just keepin up with the fuckin fog is hard enough, I know I just gotta slow down and risk a bit of pain and ease into warmth and trust that its true. My silence has done me a disservice. My love for u, eternally/ Evergrateful / be am me, For all is as it could be. Chained to nought but my fears, Lovingly I say to u, from the mouth of Beth Ditto, “If everything u do has a hole in it, then everything u do has a hold on me, I been here before I should be used to this, But I can't take it no more, I can't take it no more, no oooo, Ooooooooo ooooooo ooooo,” (And to me I always sing:) “Yr mangled hrt, yr bitter love that's hangin onto memories, Ur lettin go of everything that ussed to be, U build me up to let Me down…” And from the channels of me, I wonder, what am I releasing? Capitulating with comrades, A sparrow new found – tiny and fragile, Like glass, Rock hard and clear/ transparent but, still. It is shattered Spraying and sputtering nuggets of raw energy. Crack and singe, whatever mind of mine is waning by the wayside. Moments of forever, Of the eternal calm of belonging- Jan Cadman’s Kyneton property, We’s just yabbies in the dam. / I think I can see, I wanna chill, like when I was there. As conceited as I can be- some people I never need to feel again. Thin ice, let me drown. My neck is under deep, it's me and me alone that keeps quiet. I've been drowning, again, like always. I just got sick from telling people.. Only I can save me, I forgot, I forgot.