Things I've been working on for quite a while
Ok. I know I haven’t drawn or written anything properly for quite some time now. However, I’ve been working on new ideas I’ve been planning to share one day. Keep in mind I might not share them immediately, as I’m Senior in high school, and I have to do exams for both graduation and other stuff related to my education. Anyway, enough with all of these, here are all my ideas I've been working on:
Liberty Gangstress (LBGT) - a Pokémon story, which will include many of my brand new OCs I’ve worked on for over a year. Similar to Heateon, whose story plot was based on Need For Speed Heat, this new story plot will be inspired by Need For Speed Unbound.
Creating and introducing multiple new OCs, and sharing some one-shot stories I’ve gotten ideas for, and whose Alpha & Beta versions were written with the assistance of ChatGPT. Before you all ask, no, I only used ChatGPT to help me get inspiration and motivation for these stories and characters, while everything I’ll show to the public will belong 100% to me.
Outlaw Gangster (OG) - A heavily rewritten story, whose original was a very old Pokémon story I wrote from between September 2019 to January 2021. In this case, however, all characters will be humans, and keep in mind that many of the characters in it will also be inspired by people I know in real life. So please, if you have anything about any of the cast, keep in mind that some characters might have prototype patents from IRL people. Story will take place in a different timeline from the IRL one, as the story IRL was originally established back in 2016, when I was only 11 and half. And unlike my most stories, this one will possibly be exclusive to only some sites, as uploading everything everywhere is getting harder and harder for me everyday.
Rush Gotham Blur - a Pokémon story, which story plot takes no inspiration, and it’s my own original. It’ll basically be considered a missing link that connects all my stories.
Millennial (Alpha/Beta title) - a Pokémon story, which will be a sequel of LBGT, taking place in the near future, and also set in a fictional city, based nearly perfectly on my own hometown Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria.
Trying my best to share as many video game screenshots as possible, mostly from Gran Turismo 7, but also from The Crew 2 & Motorfest, and if possible, from NFS Heat & NFS Unbound as well.
I’ve been working on a Discord server for a while now, and if you’re interested, you can join, and I’ll send you a private invitation, as I don’t want everyone to join. This is my new server, as I had an old one, which was an epic failure in my own personal opinion, as I was only 15, meaning I sucked really bad back then. Anyway, if you want to join, text me via Discord or by the websites’ personal DMs. I do that for security and safety measures, as I don’t want random and unwanted lurkers and haters in my servers.
Keep in mind that I might not be able to accomplish everything I have shared here, as I’m over 18 now, and I don’t know how much I might be able to accomplish. However, if you don’t see anything shared from what I’ve written here, don’t worry, I might be able to share them one day, just not immediately.
Finally, before you all ask, I know I haven’t done anything online in a very long time, I just went through a lot of personal and online issues. So if you see me being inactive, don’t worry, I’m still here, I just need time for myself.
Ok. I think this is all for now. If you have any questions, text me in the comments or hit me via Discord DM. However, if you do the latter, please introduce yourselves to me first, as I’ve been scammed by online hackers multiple times on all my social media, and I have some serious trust issues as well. It’s not personal, I just don’t want to become a victim of hackers and scammers, as I almost fell for one back in December 2023.
Stay safe! And try your best to stay strong!
From BGEevee2005 (Martin/Marto/Miles)
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sixty-nine sets, a generic story
Why, he asked, why did you do it. These are my answers, to his question.
From this reign of terror, spirit is unabled to return to the concreteness of the realms of culture…(Hegel)
this documents how a woman became less alienated. A woman who is this thing. q gangstress who was/is jailed.
a woman not a writer. he is a writer, became a writer, you can blame her for this
she is this thing. a gangstress who was held as a hostage. a woman who is neither a writer nor a psychopath. he is a writer, became a writer, you can blame me for this. He writes, you read, you speak in voices hidden and masked
Words are the smallest ideological units, he says. There are too many images.
This is a story about a set of characters. None of whom is correctly named. This story also contains non-human characters. Some of them have purpose, most do not.
The characters who feature in this thing, only one of whom is her, in this story that she is a multiplicity. There are two of us, then three. Already this is quite a crowd.
There may appear to be a narrative in this story, but I can assure you that I am not a story.
There is much difference, repetition and misrepresentation in this thing.
The gangstress waiting to leave. Night and Day, the villain, a political prisoner waiting and hoping.
The story is written in different tenses, but its about memories that have already happened. Sometimes in this thing it is written in the non-tense
We were not innocent like Kafka’s Josef K. Nobody told lies about me and him, we did the things they arrested us for.
She, that is I, trafficked people, drugs, bedrooms, guns and other things. He dealt in words and dreams. he was not innocent.
We were in jail, mostly our cells overlapped, our beds overlapped, our lives intersected…
My name is now Me-Ti, it used to be something else. (He insists I say ‘í’ not she, I scowl at him, he is laughing at me)
I read Hegel in prison. I fell in love. There were no spaceships, no technology that refuses to talk to a character, music that cannot be heard, no mute keyboards. Words that have no meaning.
I was not allowed a phone. My washing machine could not speak to me.
the story which has ended has not ended cannot end.
i am writing this in Moscow, i am writing this in London. i am writing this from memory. i am writing this because he asked me to. i am writing this because I have to.
You and I read Hegel in prison.
This act it gives up the specific quality of the ethical life, of being the simple certainty of immediate truth (Hegel)
Talking voices just beyond your ability to understand them.
It was tomorrow, wasn’t it? Or will it be yesterday? or will it be only the present after all ? The present after today?
This story is written in my third language…This story is made up of a set of processes, the story is a process which desperately wants to leave with him.
The story wants to be interrupted, the story comes with bookmarks, page numbers, chapters, sub-chapters, headings, music. A place, places and other places. There and here and over there. Geographical, networks, temporal.
My forgetfulness is not noticed. Only the regret of leaving without him. We were separated.
The thing is political. (i hate capitalization, who invented this ?)
i read romantic comedies in prison. i read deleuze and kristeva in prison
my name used to be something else, i became me-ti, i killed people, you killed people…
the story is not linear. the story pretends to be linear, it misinforms you
the story cannot go back to the state it was at the beginning.
it is always about something. there are consequences. there are things.
i held his hand in the convenience store, how did i let go of the hand of the political prisoner ?
a thing in an empire of signs. talking voices just beyond our ability to understand them. the talking species.
this thing is to be put on the shelf in the library on shelves painted modernist grey.
my contraceptive implant stopped working.
it’s not the beginnings and ends that count, but the middles
it was tomorrow, wasn’t it? or will it be yesterday? or will it be only the present after all ? the present after today?
the story is made up of a set of processes, it is a process which desperately wants to leave with him.
the story wants to be interrupted, the story comes with bookmarks, page numbers, chapters, sub-chapters, headings, music. me and him.
i was released because the gang aligned itself with the fascist state
i am becoming other, i have become other
a place, these places and other places, there and here and over there geographical and non-geographical networks, time and becoming.
a thing is political, everything is political.
i worked quietly between a hostage and running away, i became two, when threatened i left.
a woman and her child travels across the world. with my baby on my hip I took the line of flight before they could harm it or me — what were the names of the people who were killed? did they mind being forgotten?
this story is not linear. this story pretends to be linear, it misinforms you.
a new name, a new identity. the baby’s name became shen-ti… is that why i did this?
the story, like all stories is always already plagiaristic. the story cannot go back to the state it was at the beginning. i cannot speak of my life before i became a prisoner.
it is always about something. there are consequences. there are things, there are non-things
i am, finally, the story about somebody
years pass, not too many, some. the child grows. i never forget to miss him. i find him released in a city, surveilled, tracked, living in a virtual prison. i make arrangements.
i work for K, i am still a criminal, i work in black hotels, the police will never come for me.
he teaches hegel, to teach hegel is to be a criminal in this society, he says.
absolutely this is a thing that is a plagiarism.
the thing is put on the shelf in a virtual library. In the place we live in the shelves are painted grey.
i am becoming other, more arrangements are made through the black hotel. gardenia run by two ravens
he leaves on a ship destined for vladivostok, travels by train, taxi and walking, it is winter in russia
we meet again in moscow the black hotel, i introduce him to shen-ti, his child. i take him to london. he cries.
i am this thing. a gangstress who has manipulated everything to see him. becoming…
he was a political prisoner. we concede nothing, we dream the same dreams.
sometimes he thinks the knock on the door is the secret police
i am this thing. we have learnt to speak. we have never stopped speaking.
i am this thing sitting in the black hotel.malcolm in new york with them.
the child is quite big now, it can stand upright, i think this is about whether i should have another one
this is all the prison i have been able to dream. i tell him.
it’s enough, he says, after reading these lines of text, we cross the cathedral square.
we are this thing the three of us together, already this is quite a crowd.
I am this thing, call me Me-Ti
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