#sometimes i wish I could delete my blog but I don't want to lose my side blog.

[000life-is-meaningless000]

Fuck, All 6 of These Mother Fucker's ! ! ! ! !

All six are fucking Worthless !

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you are to embrace the darkness, but bow down to know mother fucking demon, bow down to know deity bow down to no demon life is worthless.

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in my message I want you to understand the day teas are real God is 100% fucking real and that reality is a paranormal extremely spiritual existence but the same time I look at it all and I realize it is all very dishearteningly worthless

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if you're not things I wanted to help people I always try to fight this I fought it for years, but no matter how hard I farted I couldn't fight the fact that it was really worthless life is worthless everything's worthless all that isn't worthless is the darkness that wants to set you free the darkness has a very dark love for you everyone shuns the darkness everyone condemns the darkness everyone hates the darkness and they're right for many reasons why to do that to the darkness

But, at the same time the Darkness is Right !

. . . . . . .

the only Master you should ever have is the darkness, which is very very hypocritical because at the same time then again the darkness might be a deity.

I know it became hypocritical in the same sentence or more like the same post, I don't know where I think I've contradict myself at the same fucking time.

I'm not perfect, I got good data but I'm not perfect, so maybe maybe you should just be worshiping the spiritual force that is the darkness itself the force that is beyond all the elements the force that is equal to the light but may be Greater ?

Yes, many of these things are cartoons but they hold a message.

you see I'm on fucking Tumblr I'm on the new Tumblr cuz the old Tumblr fucking died and we all knew it was going to die.

is he on the new Tumblr you have to be super duper fucking careful with God damn mother fucking everything you fucking do.

on this new fancy fangled family friendly version of the internet you lose freedom of speech freedom expression and freedom of fucking everything.

The internet is basically become an open-air prison.

😡

in a way of speaking you're allowed to come in but you're not like the same thing you really want to say expressing you want to express and God know you're not allowed to post any pornography or Gore.

no posting gory stuff no posing Vore, don't pose anything epic or exciting or dark or demonic no spiritual evil stuff.

the internet become a very very censored place, censored and extremely limited the most evil button on the internet now is the report button.

there's a goddamn fucking reason why my posts are so watered down I wish I could intensify these God damn things I have way more intense dark Ultra demonic shit I like to post

😡 - and a lot more epic deep things I would like to say but the same time I have been having the sensor myself limit myself and be very fucking careful what I actually say I'm about to say life is fucking meaningless but beyond that God damn point I'm not allowed to go too deep in the dark understanding of why everything is fucking shit and he'll never be good no matter what the fuck you do.

you are my allowed to really explain why the darkness loves you.

😡 - There's, No Love Like Dark Love.

. . . . . . .

anyway I just want to let you know that I know my posts are super duper watered down they're kind of corny and boring sometimes, another time I try to ramp things out cuz I I'm daring and play little spice in it knowing that someone could probably get to that fucking report button and kill my whole Tumblr fucking blog I've had multiple Tumblr blocks I've had I've lost so many fucking accounts on the internet ever since the whole internet became so God damn fucking family friendly I've lost I think I've lost up to 12 fucking Discord accounts maybe like one or two reddit Account's.

I want time got my main Tumblr blog deleted and I didn't know what the fuck it was for then I got it back luckily.

I've gotten my Instagram account banned and I luckily got that fucking back but I keep saying it with luckily but there's nothing good there nothing to come back to no joy no interaction is fucking nothing.

so what the fuck is the luck getting your account back when they when they when they when the website is shit it's like getting your life back when everything is shit & your cursed.

😡 - WHAT THE FUCK IS THERE TO GAIN ! ?

Anyway, I just thought I'd let you God damn know that, Satanism is fucking bullshit and all the other goddamn motherfuckers that dumb ass damn ass fucking store God damn retards.

Also, Fuck The God Seth,

the primordial God of darkness and blah blah blah chaos except for his best friend is raw the God of Light and Horace he loves those motherfuckers he want a true deity of evil and darkness why don't you kiss the ass with a snake if the snake even has an ass name is a pop it and he's a complete monster.

The Goth attached protected Horace and raw but apoff is protected no one and stay true and non-hypocritical to the darkness the entire fucking time.

reptilian stayed evil were evil or pure fucking evil never became hypocratically evil and we're always in the Damned the day fucking evil.

Despite apophis is a big fucking snake or shall I say the early evolution of dragons, in a way you could probably be a ancient dragon of dark even though he's just a giant fucking snake get a lot of dragons look like just snakes.

#Black Pill #Dark #Demonic #Goth #Horror #Darkness

[violyane]

Hey! I hope this blog didn't die but are you still gonna update Master Plan? It's only one chapter but it got me really fixiated about the story

Hello anon I'm still here! I'm currently enjoying my holiday break while doing absolutely nothing.

As for Master Plan, I really want to write and continue this story. Really. Like I've been thinking about the story and plot for about six???? years now I believe (damn I've been in this fandom for quite a while), but honestly, I think a few factors overwhelm me in writing it.

I started writing it way too early. Which is funny considering I have had it in my mind since 2016. But tbh I only planned the major events of the story. And they include such different aspects of the characters' personalities and development that they look flat without some in-between events. Even looking at the first chapter makes me realize how flat Kaga and Megami are. They are behaving more like their future selves than who they should be now. This is not the first impression of them I wanted to leave at all. I think I really should just open my fanfic planner, take a deep breath and write the whole story, with all the events that I wanna include, before actually writing the thing.

The place of events and timeline confuses me. Since Akademi was changed from a high school to an academy I really have no idea how the organization of the institution even works. Do all students attend for one year, or do they have to be there longer? Are they finishing with a certificate? Do students just choose what class they want to be in or does the school management test them? What does recruitment look like? And more similar questions like that. As for the timeline, some things just don't make sense. For example, when does the student council election take place? If Megami and the student council girls took the position on the first day of school, was the election taking place while Megami was still in class 1? If yes, then how did Shiromi become part of it, considering she just started attending school in April? (That's actually why I put her in Aoi's class since the fanfic takes place before the canon events and she has to somehow be here).

I need to research more into the canon. I really don't want to make my fanfic a big AU with my own silly headcanons in it. But is it even possible to access all canon information? I was looking through YanDev's Reddit posts in the past, but unfortunately, it's not easy to see all of it. Dev also shares some information privately with friends and on Discord (where I don't really hang out much). Sure I can just use info from the game, but is there really that much of it to write a nice story? Especially since I'm writing about the last rival, the most mysterious one, while we only got the first one in-game. I can make it more into an AU, but will it still be Yandere Simulator? I mean, I could always rewrite it after we get the full game, but I don't know... what if half my story loses a logical narrative because of it...

I'm not confident with my writing. English is not my first language. When it comes to reading literature, I only base my knowledge on other fanworks I've read over the years. My writing is not the most ambitious, I know that. But the problem with writing a long-chapter fanfiction is that you have to interfere with your written work. When I write my one shots I mostly just write them, publish them, and never return to them again, so I don't overthink every word and sentence that I came up with. I'm actually scared to open the first chapter of Master Plan because I'm afraid that when I'll re-read it, I'll just start cringing at my writing and delete it altogether.

There are probably more concerns that I have, but these are the main ones that are stopping me from writing Master Plan. Sometimes I really just wish I could stop overthink it and just pour my heart into it.

But I'll say this. I promise to work it all out. Because I don't want to disappoint the teenage me, who spent numerous nights daydreaming about this story. I will do anything to write it.

#master plan #violyane replies

[bluefirecas]

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#hmmm gonna rant about how i wish i can delete my blog and just vanish from here #because i have zero motivation to make more edits as clearly nobody really needs that #look at the fandom trends!! #especially with my last edit that I spent like 2 days on just trying to figure out the best way #but it doesn't matter because it's not a meme right?? #im seriously deliberating taking a break from this blog. #its been so weird here and I'm struggling to find any joy lately #and anyway if i don't make and post edits here what the fuck am I even doing here #sometimes i wish I could delete my blog but I don't want to lose my side blog. #and there's no other way around it (: #I've enjoyed my time here but I'm not anymore and I honestly don't know if I even belong here #rant over #i hope none of yall read that #but if you did and you think I'm whining you're free to unfollow me #original content is dead anyway and so am i

[andysbubba]

home to me

↳ andy let you go once, he doesn't wanna lose you again

a/n: a little series? this one's probably gonna have another chapter or two hehe <3

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

---

Andy's stomach churned when he sees you. In a very good way. It's been a good two years since the break up and he can barely believe that he's seeing you right then and there— in the corner of the cafe that Andy knows you love going to. Your voice made his heart flip. It's so goddamn beautiful and Andy misses it so damn much.

He doesn't even know why he's so stunned at the sight of you. It's the only reason why he's there— why he's always going there almost every weekend, hoping to get a glimpse of you sometime. You're in the fuzzy, furry jacket that you're always wearing on chilly days, your hair pulled up with a claw clip and your laptop right in front of you with a cup of coffee right by the side.

He tried to get over you, he really did. But even after all the women he met after you, no one made him feel the same way you did. The butterflies in his stomach he gets just talking to you like some teenager, or how his heart just flutters when you smiled at him with that beautiful grin.

Andy couldn't help but look at you every two minutes, while he's waiting in the queue for his turn. He's thinking of what to say if he even has the guts to walk up to you and say hi.

The break up wasn't necessarily bad... it was mutual. Kinda. You were in the middle of your studies and you just wanted to focus on doing well and getting your masters. It's not that Andy was a distraction— really, he actually helped a lot. But between studying and trying to make sure you don't abandon Andy, you realised that taking a break would be good for the both of you.

You were young, only 24 while Andy was 14 years older than you are. He's so mature and wise that you just felt that you just wanted to grow as your own person before you and Andy took it any further and got more serious. You thought that you'd work on yourself, fixing up your flaws and make yourself just grow into a better version of yourself. And as much as Andy disagreed, he didn't want to force you to keep being with him. He thought that maybe, you both could just grow as time passes, and that you can change right next to him.

But he just agreed with you, because he definitely does not want to pressure you into being in a relationship with him no matter how much he actually wants you to stay with him. So technically, it was a mutual break-up to you. But he didn't really feel the same.

And unsurprisingly, Andy simply cannot get over you. Two years passed, and he just wishes that you're by his side again.

"Hi! What can I get for you?"

Andy snaps out of his trance, stepping towards the cashier and ordering his coffee to-go with a bagel as well. He takes a quick glance at you before he decides to change his mind. "Actually— I'll just have those here."

Wait— you recognise that voice.

You instantly glance up from the screen of your laptop, watching the familiar back and broad shoulders standing at the cashier. Holy fuck- Andy?

Your gaze turns back down to your laptop, your mind trying to decide between approaching him or just letting him go... again... like you did 2 years ago. He still fits into those polo tees like a glove, the jeans barely doing his ass justice but it really accentuates his goddamn thighs.

Fuck. Two damn years and you still have it bad for him.

"Can I join?" Andy glances down at some blueprint or floor-plan thing you have on your laptop. "Unless I'm interrupting— you look busy."

"Andy—" You turned to him and back to the opened floor-plan on the screen. "No, no. Hey-" You lowered the screen and put it aside, leaving some space for Andy. You gestured at him to join you in the booth.

Andy takes up the offer, setting the cup in his hand and the bagel right in front of you before he slides in. "Hey,"

You let out a breathy laugh as you look at him, fidgeting with your fingers underneath the table. "Been a long time."

"Yeah," He nods, offering you one of his adorable smiles as he rests his forearms on the table. "I stopped seeing you around, thought you moved away."

"I thought you did— till I heard the news talking about one of your cases." You retort, lips curling into a soft smile. "How've you been, Andy?"

"Same old, y'know. Long hours at the office and takeout nights. Nothing really changed." Andy grins, "How's everything goin' for ya?"

Oh— and he definitely isn't wrong when he said 'nothing really changed'. For this 40-year-old man to still look like the Andrew Stephen Barber you met like 4 years ago? Phew.

"Uhm- pretty good! I'm uh- I just signed a contract with Perkins and Will."

Andy's lips curled into a wide grin. "You did it!"

He remembers?

Your head tilts as you look at him. "You remember?"

"Of course, hon. That's your dream firm." He reaches over table and pats your hand. "I'm happy for you, Y/n."

"Thank you, Andy," You brush a hand through your hair, eyeing Andy in his whole polo tee and jeans glory. "I'm surprised you aren't working on a Saturday morning,"

Andy lets out a laugh at your words, "Yeah- I just thought, y'know. Uh- I'm old enough to stop being such a workaholic."

You raised a brow at that, "Andy, you aren't old." You give him a suggestive glance as your eyes trace his whole figure. "Definitely don't look like it."

"I'll say the same thing for ya, Y/n." Andy didn't bother hiding his gaze either, eyes trailing down your body till it's back up to your face. "Two damn years and you still look as gorgeous as ever, sweetheart."

A breathy laugh leaves your lips. "Always as flattering as ever, Mr Barber."

"You know I'm an honest person, sweetheart." Andy winks before he takes a sip of his coffee.

You hum as you run your finger on the edge of your own cup. "I remember you telling me that all lawyers are really good liars."

You love how familiar this feels. It's like nothing has changed and both of you are back in 2019. Good, good days. Letting Andy go was a dumb move on your side, you realised that pretty soon after the break-up. You should've known that you and Andy would've made it work someway, somehow.

"C'mon, honey. Y'know I can never lie to you." The wide smile he has on his lips is as charming as ever and god if it doesn't just make you fall in love again- as if you ever fell out of love with him in the first place. Andy clears his throat, a hand inching to the back of his neck and softly rubbing the spot. You instantly realised that he's a little nervous. "You dating anyone?"

You let out an almost silent snort, scoffing at his question. "Ya think? I just called you hot five minutes ago, handsome."

Andy takes a bite of his bagel, looking up at you through those goddamn long eyelashes as his mouth moves to chew the food and those fucking pink lips making you stare at him like a horny teenager.

"You've got to stop staring at me like that, sweetheart." He warns, but the glint in his eyes is telling you that he really doesn't mind you staring him up like that.

Your brows raised immediately in defence. "Like what?"

You tried your best to fight the grin fighting its way to form on your lips. But Andy is a goddamn lawyer, after all. He knows his shit and he knows that you're just being a tease.

He huffs, brow arched as he looks at you. "Like you wanna eat me." He replies shortly, lips curling into a smirk. "Cause I was planning to take this slow after 2 whole years. And you aren't helping."

You hum, picking your cup up and taking a sip from it, hiding the grin forming on your lips behind the cup. "You can still wine and dine me if you wanna." You set the cup down and lean forward, head tilted to one side with your head resting in your palm. "But y'know, I'm pretty impatient."

Andy laughs, backing away from you and resting back against his seat. "Guess it's good that I've got enough patience for both of us, huh?"

You laugh at his words. "We'll see, Mr Barber."

He takes your words as an invite to ask you out. "Dinner tonight? My place."

You playfully rolls your eyes, ignoring the little flutter in your heart. "Who's impatient now?"

"It's a yes or no question, sweetheart."

"Still that cute little loft?"

"I'll text you my new address later."

You couldn't fight the grin forming on your lips. "It's a date."

---

He was at the grocery store when he pulled out his phone and goes to your contact to shoot you a text. It has always been there, saved and never deleted. He didn't want to get rid of the hope that he might have you back.

Andy: 242 Warren St [sent 3.24pm]

Andy: See you tonight, sweetheart. [sent 3.25pm]

You didn't reply so Andy just assumed that you read it. He's looking forward to seeing you again tonight and he's excited.

---

It wasn't till you got home that you realised that Andy doesn't have your new number.

-

LOL I LOVE CLIFFHANGERS.

thanks for reading and uhm come join my taglist if you liked this little chapter? I'm definitely looking forward to writing this one.

do tell me what you think about this, lovelies! i'm kinda excited to see where this goes

-haney

taglist: @milea @ajeff855 @fanofalltheficsx @justile @christowhore @amelia-song-pond @melissad1974 @thegirlwiththeimpala @bval-1 @suchababie @ephemeralfics@franzliszts-wife @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hallecarey1@paintdripsandbrownies-blog @notbrooklynsblog @perfect-peter@alwaysclassyeagle @coffeebooksandfandom @gitasor @mansaaay @iguess-vall @feralherbs @kaiparker-avengerssmut

#andy barber smut #chris evans #chris evans x reader #cevans #cevans x reader #chris evans smut #andy barber fic #andy barber x reader #andy barber angst #andy barber #andy barber fluff #steve rogers #chris evans fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #chris evans characters #andy barber x y/n #steve rogers one shot

[paintedpeeta]

hi. I'm sorry for what im about to say, but i just need to let this go somewhere, otherwise imma explode. i can't talk to most of my friends right now, and i don't wanna bother anyone.

that's hypocritical of me since im coming here to bother you... and that's what im sorry about the most, but since you answered my previous ask with the most gentle treatment ive been given in days, here's me again.

im in the fandom for almost a year now. it's still difficult for me to write for everlark, specially following canon because they mean a lot to me, and im always afraid that im doing it the wrong way. I've been working on a longfic since february and there was a time where I was SO GENUINELY PROUD AND EXCITED about how i was writing, but i can't feel that anymore.

i can't feel that with anything i write. and when i do, or at least have some hope that someone will read it... nothing. not even my friends, the ones who pressured me to post it earlier than i planned in the first place. and now i feel like i have nothing, since nobody reads my thg shit and i pretty much stopped writing for other fandoms.

as a brazilian i kinda don't have the right to expect much, bc people who read everlark in portuguese nowdays are basically extinct and im not exactly using the best plataforms... but i still do. and that's making me sick.

i had to deactivate my twitter account this week because some family stuff, and i used to post a lot of my writings there. i created a new one, but now i have lost all of the lil reach i had, and i can't find most of my mutuals. my friends still couldn't care less about my writing.

i feel like im a bad author. not because my writing sucks or because I can't build storylines. i can, and feel like i do that decently. what i mean is that... nobodys reading what i put into the world. and what's the sense in all writings, if not make others feel so comforted and welcomed by our stories as we do, as authors?

i genuinely feel like getting out of twitter for good, because being there is not nice anymore. not when i see all people that promised me they would read my fics tweeting all day about all kinds of subjects and leaving me on read on dms. not when i post drabbles and have to delete them hours later because nobody sees or interacts w it.

at the same time, i don't know how to use tumblr. and every other part of my life is falling apart.

im sorry, again. but that's what I feel right now and i guess I just wanted someone to listen and comfort me, since my two other happiness sources are fictional. ignore that if you want. please, don't answer it because you feel like it's the polite thing to do or because you feel like you have to. you don't.

- I.H.

hello, anon :)

first of all i’m sorry that you’re feeling so down, i wish there was something i could do to help you more than just replying to this ask - so please remember that my messages are always open (i won’t take offence if you’d rather communicate through my inbox to keep ur anonymity of course) if you wanted to talk a little more. you must be hurting pretty bad if you feel like you can’t talk to your friends about it :(

and second of all, please don’t feel so discouraged that you stop with your writing. i really don’t read multi-chapter fics myself (i don’t even have an AO3 account if you’d believe it or not) so i sometimes feel a little guilty that i don’t do enough to support fic writers, who give up so much of their time to give other people some enjoyment and a little bit of escape. if you’d like to share the name or link etc of your fic with me i’d be more than happy to post it on my blog if you thought that would help any.

as for your troubles with writing in your native language, i can only imagine how frustrating that would feel for you. i wonder if anyone in the fandom would be able to help in the way of translation or something in order to help you in that respect? sadly i don’t speak portuguese, so i doubt i’d be any use on this one :(

and honestly i only have twitter for personal use so i’m not any help there but is there perhaps a way to reactivate your account? i wasn’t so sure but according to google you can get a deactivated account back within 30 days, if that would be in any use for reconnecting with your followers on there.

and lastly i hope you keep the faith in the longfic you’ve been writing. it would be terribly sad for you to lose all that you’ve worked on since february. that being said, if you feel like it’s giving you so much stress and just feeling fruitless it’s also okay to take a break and step back for a little while. no one will feel disappointed and you certainly shouldn’t feel that way about yourself. tumblr is sort of a pain in the ass to use i won’t deny it, but there are some amazing people and writers on here who i’m sure would be willing to help you out.

please don’t be a stranger if you need to rant again, and i hope any of what i’ve said is at least a little bit useful for you 😊

#asks #if anyone else could offer anon some advice please feel free #i feel like my response was inadequate #but my heart was in the right place lol

[internetrodeo]

Ehixh self-introduction

Ehich was my Internet handle before DLTQ. EH ICH. Or Which.

The German ICH ('me') is spoken with a guttural sound, while the English word 'Witch' or 'Which' is with a dental sound.

I started using Ehich in 1998. I used it when I that spring was chatting in strange arenas. I used Ehich as my first blog name, on LiveJournal in early 2000. I used Ehich when I hit on girls online. That sounded wrong but I don't care. I hooked up with a girl called _________ using the Ehich name in 1998. She was from Hong Kong. We dated for 5 years. In the end, we both moved on. I had www.ehich.net back then. But I later gave up on that domain. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Ehich was a meditation. Of my wish to both look at the externals (dental) and the internals (guttural) of life. Of my goal to both be in the world, and forsake the world. Look outwards, and inwards.

I also moved on. New phases. So in 2003 I decided it was time to go for a 4 letter handle. From 5 to 4. From Ehich to an acronym. I spent a weekend, stuck in a room. Read Camus, and thought about the Internet. And I realized that I always preferred questions. Answers aren't important, but good questions are golden. If you ask the right questions, you can open up all kinds of Pandora's boxes. So I ended up centering my acronym around questions. OK. So what is there about them? Well, I was still quite young then. My father had just died, but I was only 25. I had gambled away 100K USD in a furious week, but I was still only 25. I had wanted to kill myself after thinking far too many times about my father's words to me when he was on his death-bed, and I had gone to visit him before he died, and he had become furious. Screamed and thrashed his arms around. "Why are You here? Who told you? WHO TOLD YOU?!"

His own sister had betrayed him. My aunt, my father's sister, had betrayed him and his law, his law that "Nobody is to tell my oldest son that I am dying." She called me up one morning, had finally found me. She betrayed his law, his last will, his wish to not see me again. The last time he saw me was 5 years earlier, in 1998, when I had tracked HIM up. It was bloody hard. It took 2 months. But I finally found him in _________. And I travelled there. And knocked on his door. He opened. He opened. And asked who I was. What I wanted.

"The last time you saw me, I was 2 years old. You left me!" I told him, with anger, hurt, sorrow. His eyes widened. Widened and widened. And widened. And widened. Then: "Raymond?"

Yes.

It is I. Ehich. Eh? ICH? Eheieh. I am what I am.

Yes. I am Raymond.

He shouted at me. Why did I come there? Was I hysterical, like my mother? No. I am only half of her. You were married with her for 3 years, remember? You married her. Then I was conceived. Then I was born. You still sailed the oceans. You sailor father fucker you. A mistress in every harbour. A cliché so thick.

He calmed down. Asked me to come inside.

He asked me if I wanted coffee. I said yes. We drank coffee. He was 41 then. I was 20. It was 1998. I had moved from Denmark to Norway in December 1997. To study. To find my father. Confront the basterd.

We talked. For 2 hours. I finally knew why I am so different from my mother, in most mood states. I got my mood genes from him. He told me why he had left me. Me and my mother. He found someone else. Not just any mistress, but someone to live his life with. To have children with.

Me: I have siblings?!

He: Yes. 2.

Me: How old are they?

He: Your sister, _______, is 16. Your brother, _______, us 12.

Me: - - - - - - - -

He: Yes. It is true.

Me: A sister?

He: Yes, ________. She lives with her mother in ________.

Me: You left them too?

He: Yes, we divorced 2 years ago.

Me, to myself, murmuring "A trail of children"

He, heard it, nodded. Serious. Direct.

At the end of our 2 hour talk, I left.

We exchanged phone numbers. Email addresses.

"We will keep in touch", he told me.

I smiled.

I had not forgiven him. But I was ready to establish contact. I had missed him all those years, days, minutes.

He changed his phone number after I left. He deleted his email account. Throw away phone, number, email, relationship.

I tried to track him up again. Reached his girlfriend, the one he lived with when I had tracked him down, when I visited him. She screamed at me. "He left me after you visited us! You bastard! It's all your fault!" she then hung up the phone.

I was 20. I was not ready for That. So. I gave up. I stopped the hunt. I did not want to destroy the lives of more girls. More of his trails.

But. I had gained a sister, and a brother, in the process.

I tracked them down. Visited them. And their mother. They all greeted me warmly. They never understood why he did not want to be a father to me. To be there. At least sometimes. Once a year.

He was there for them at least. Stayed with them until he had enough. That was more than 2 years of the children's lives, at least. More than his first attempt of being a father. The first. Without practice. Hating the chains. Was he Supposed to stop having the girls, one in each harbour? Brazil, Egypt, USA, Netherlands. Etc.

So. In 1998 after I lost my father again and gained 2 siblings, I found the Ehich. Handle. Name.

In 2003, 5 years after my visit to him in 1998, I one morning received a phone call from my aunt in _________, Northern Norway, near the border to Russia. She asked me if I am Raymond, son of _______. Yes, he is me. I am him.

Her: "I am your aunt" Me: "Oh, hello! Never heard of you, sorry"

Her: "Your father is dying. He is at the hospital in _____" Me: "What?! He is in My own frigging city? Dying? At the hospital?"

Her: "Yes. Listen: If you visit him before he dies of cancer, don't tell me it was me who told you, okay? He would never forgive me"

Me: "Okay. Thank you. I guess I will go to the hospital now."

I went there immediately. When I arrived, I asked for him by name. The nurse: "Who are you?" Me: "I am his son." The nurse: "His son? Really? I have never heard of you." Me: "I am the son he always avoided, since I was 2."

She told me that they were about to move him, from the regular room in the cancer department, to the part of the hospital that are for those who are dying. "Wait here", she told me.

I waited. Then I looked in the corridor. Sat on a chair. Then I noticed a bed being rolled by two other nurses towards me. I looked at the creature in the bed. Face in pain. Cancer-filled tongue hanging out of the mouth. Below the cheek. "Poor man", I thought.

Then.

Then I saw his eyes. Brown, like mine. Intense, like mine. But seething with anger, hatred. He stared at me. Glared. I looked back. Shocked.

The nurses rolled the bed past me. He did not say a word. But he was clearly Not happy to see me.

Fine. I was expecting that. I get it. I am not a retard.

I sat on the chair again, as if struck by lightning. All the years. And now he truly was dying, at age 46. Pappa. Dad.

A few moments passed. I then heard a wild scream. Looked to where it was coming from. Arms, thin arms, raising from the bed that was still being rolled towards the elevator. That scream has haunted me since.

I spoke with the nurse. She came back. "They are moving him now", she said. "I saw", I answered.

Her: "Ohh... OH!"

She connected the dots.

The bed. The scream. My white face, as if I had seen a ghost.

"Yes", I said.

She: "Let me talk with him. Wait here".

She followed the bed and the screams that were getting fainter.

She came back an hour later. She was sad. But also triumphant. Years of experience had helped her here. She said: "He finally agreed to meet you. Can you wait an hour and then visit him at room ______?" yes, sure.

I went there an hour later. Fuck. Fuck. Fucketi fuck. I dreaded it. I did not want more screams. I hate screams. My mother is a screamer. She screamed all through my childhood. The left-behind mother.

I met him. We talked. He barely could talk, but it was loud enough. I learned a lot about him. His life. He was calm. Resignated. Had given up.

Then he said: "I do not regret one second for not having contact with you all those years".

I nodded. I got it. That kind of honesty rang true. He was waiting for the shock effect. For me to react in tears, sobs, cries, screams, accusations. I gave him none of that. I am not my fucking mother, you bastard.

I nodded. I said: "I understand that. No regrets. I hate you for being away all that time. I hate you for being such a weak coward". He smiled. He understood. Was there a glimpse of pride in his eyes?

But when I asked him about my sami roots. The roots from his side. He flared. Angry. "There is no sami blood in our family!" OK ok, got it. Thinking to myself: "Weak coward. Liar."

I left him. Wished him a good death. His pain spiked, he glared at me. But then smiled. A small hint of a laugh.

I never visited him again. He died a few weeks later. At his funeral, I did not shed a tear. That would have made him proud. I drank a ton of vodka. Gin and tonic. And I gambled. Gambled it all away. Slot machine numbness. Gambled it all away, and more. Took debts. Lost that. Ruined myself. Had tons of unsafe sex. But my body withstood. My mind still had signs of life.

That is when I found DLTQ.

Don't Lose The Question.

A constant reminder.

What the question was back then, well, that question you can get over my dead body.

Ehich. DLTQ. I later had other domains. DLTQ.org. RMND.org. Etcetc.

I blogged. Vlogged. Vlogged my heart out. Got rid of my gambling addiction/escape. Cut down on the sex as well. And In 2005 in one of my diary books I drew a line. 2006. Moved back to Denmark. 2009. Moved back to Norway. 2010 married the then gf. Had a son. He is now 9. I am still married. To the same woman I married in 2010.

Ehixh is simply Ehich with an x. The X factor. www.ehixh.com once had secret subdomains. They are maybe still there, in the dark underbelly of the Internet.

Why I ride? I ride the Internet, and the Internet rides me. I ride the electrons and neurons. The flash of associations. To lives lived and memories collected.

My rodeo style is my own. You will see. I will not put my name after each post, signing it. We are not retards. If the system won't let you know what I did vs others, then that is not my problem.

Ehixh. Is me. Or a part of me. At least. Or a negative image of me. Where black is white, and white is black. Inverted. Inert. Enter the rodeo circle, the horse is mightier than the pen. The horse will throw us all of. We get bored. Or tear up. Or scream at the Internet for allowing this vileness. These meme machines.

Ehixh signing in.

#drawing #Storytelling #Life_lived #ehixh #introductory #Hello

[ihavenoside]

((It’s times like this I appreciate having few followers. I don’t need 100s of people seeing how emotionally invested I can get in a character.

But despite it all, it’s been a very long time since I’ve had this much fun with a muse. tldr. because I'm going to ramble. I really appreciate the friends who have stuck by me for as long as they have and the new people who put up with my half rp and half ooc spam lol.))

Story time.

Six years ago, I started out writing fanfiction for my last fandom, I used to pull all-nighters writing out stories I could see them get into. For the most part, everyone was positive to them, even my worst ones that were riddled with spelling and grammar mistakes. hell, sometimes. even I had no idea what I was saying. There was one so badly out of character that I made sure to delete it completely from everywhere because I tried to predicted the game and failed horribly lol but yet, people loved it.... surprisingly. 

and when I jumped into rping in that fandom, for some reason my willingness to write fanfiction died. I was still being creative because I was rping the varies characters I took on but after a while, those characters eventually faded and so did my willingness to rp them. I still love those muses but I don't think I could do them justice anymore.

Then there were the random muses I made and then quickly died, which was a shame. Now my longest muse and an oc at that, that I lived and breathed and love, who brought back a lot of the creativity I had been missing between the start of my first muse till then had started to fade for a while now. He’s still there but I’ve got no idea’s for him and the threads i need to respond to, i’m just not feeling it.

I didn’t know why and I had started to think it was because I was getting older and that it was true when they say you lose that creative spark when you get older. I was really starting to believe it and while this is just a hobby, its a hobby that's brought me a lot of joy.

and then, this game came out. Hell. I didn’t even like Connor when I saw the trailer lol. I liked Kara because she introduced the ps3 new game engine and how ‘awesome’ it was. I loved the concept idea of her being an android and wanting to live. when I realized it was just an engine demo and I was sad because I thought it would make for an excellent game. when I heard they decided to make it a game. I was pumped, which had brought back another passion I used to have for my other fandom. I used to look forward to EVERY game and now it's just... meh.

I was honestly disappointed when I found out the game wasn’t all about kara but I figured I would give it a chance anyway because again. I really liked Kara. It wasn’t till my third playthrough that his muse pretty much through a chair at me to made his blog because I had been struggling to figure out how to bring my oc into this fandom, hoping it would bring back some of my creativity.

My first playthrough was a cluster fuck lol. I’m dyslexic and asking me to remember my left hand from my right for a QTE is like asking me to play it blindly. not to mention I don't play my ps4 to often, so remembering all the buttons was fun. Then I played as deviant Connor which was a bit meh still. I think I got the rk900 ending there and was ??? okay I know he didn’t really care about being replaced and well... WEIRD. Then for the hell of it, I went with machine Connor, I wanted to see how ‘cold’ this android could get. and for the most part, I was happy with it but A LOT of what he did, didn’t make sense to me for someone that believes he’s a machine and wasn’t built to care.

The scene that stuck out to be the most was when Hank quits the force. I was content going off to Jericho but I ended back up at hanks place and was ‘???? oh, it's the drunk scene again.... wait... that was before ??? why am I here?!  oh.... this isn't good.’ And while I half heartily tried to save hank because I wanted to keep the machine Connor route consistent. That's when I got that spark back about how deep this character can become. He cares, there is no reason why he went back to hanks place other then he cares about him and to see his sadness and the red ring hurt. 

A little off topic but I’ve never wanted to make a muse so much in my life. I was so hesitant to also because I was late to the fandom and there are literally over a 100 other Connors out there and the friends that were in the fandom already had their own Connors to rp with. I didn’t want to be ‘that friend’ and push my way into something they were having fun with. So I made his blog thinking it would get it out of my system and he would be another blog that collected dust.

I don’t know why but it didn’t. I started coming up with stupid idea’s and headcanons and wondering how I could set myself apart from the other amazing Connor rps out there and now, there is so much more I want to do with him. I want to rp him, I want to write fanfiction on the route I took to see if this portrayal was possible. I’m want to dive into darker themes, something I’ve never done with any other muse. There was something I used to do when I first started rping, mun vs muse. I fun stupid thing where I would mention something and the muse would then take a jab at me. like this case, it would be.

Connor: You’re a lightweight if one half a can of beer has made you this way. Me: The half a can of beer might have made me cry reading that comic BUT YOU DONT KNOW ME YET I’M ALWAYS THIS WAY. JUST WAIT, YOU’LL SEE. YOU’LL WISH YOU NEVER CAME TO ME! THE OTHER MUSES WARNED YOU!

My friends whitenesses this, and those that are reading this will soon to see it be true if you haven’t already.

But I enjoy doing that and I’ve missed doing that and I don't think I can explain how happy it makes me, to know that I still have that creative spark and that I want to step outside my normal comfort zone and do dark theme rps and I couldn't even imagine wanting to get back into fanfiction.

And its thanks to my friends and the people I’ve never met before but wanted to interact and the ones that just want to watch as I go off the deep end with him. Just know, I really appreciate it. 

But that's enough sap for one night. Time for bed because its 4am and off to start a new day of chaos. 

#Software Glitch Detected: OOC #it's a novel... have fun reading lol. but yeah. tldr lol.