An Incredibly Informal Post About Neuroscience, At 5am

Ocean Eyes

There is an eye at the bottom of the ocean, belonging to an old god whose name has been forgotten, but still leaves echoes in the memory of man. It's there, under the rolling waves and aquatic life. In a constant staring contest with our sun that's dripping crimson with the blood of so many who have given into their fears, the eye gazes not just on that sun but through every life that has ever lived in this reality we've found ourselves in, and so many others.

 When it finally blinks, the world will end. This is a fact. The Earth will begin to swallow us whole, and nature will take back what we've stolen from it. Bridges collapsing and headlights careering into the star filled glinting sea, into doors that were never meant to be opened. Fear and panic in the air, do you feel it too?.. and when that eye blinks, our sun will too. I want to look down into those depths just so I can reassure myself it's fine. ‘It was just a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that you had because you went into cardiac arrest,’

But it's still wriggling in my brain, pulling in and out of my periphery like a tide. So I think..

I'm going to run a little experiment. I've mentioned my urges- 

My fixation with hearing others experiences and memories, my drive to feel that connection, and to pick at the more distressing details of said memories. I would like to stop completely, just to see how uncomfortable I'd get. I want to document how long it takes until my resolve cracks, just to get a sense of how trapped I really am in this cycle.

So, if I don't post for a while, my blog isn't dead! I'm simply trying not to fall into a pattern that I've been feeding into for the past 3 months. I will post the results when I feel I've gotten satisfying results.

An Otherworldly Garden of Lights Emerges from Hemp and Resin by Ross Hansen

Do You Dream of the Stars? Or Better Yet, Is It What Makes You Wake Up Screaming?

Have you ever thought about the vastness of everything in the macrocosm? About looking out a spaceship window and seeing nothing but an endless sea of darkness? Ask yourself, can space really be endless? I mean, we all know the universe isn't… but what happens at the end of the universe? Like if I was to get in a spaceship could I just keep on going and going forever without ever revisiting the same places? This is terrifying to me, that there are places out there that will never be seen by human eyes. Then there's that pesky phrase, “Space is expanding”. Well how can that be true? How am I supposed to conceptualize cosmic inflation theory, if there isn't the dark matter of space in the spots it's expanded to before, then just what was there before? What do we call that? This doesn't freak anyone else out?

 I want to visualize and understand all of it. The below, the above, what surrounds our being.  If. I could just map it out and understand fully, then it wouldn't make my head spin as much. It feels like unfinished work that will never be completed... Which I guess in a way, it sort of is

Lamp design by Louis Poulsen, late 80s.

Scan

Do Memories of Your Religious Upbringing Leave You Feeling Afraid?

Do you know the story of the city of sodom in the bible? You know, in Genesis 19? You know how angels warned Lot and his family to flee the city and not look back? How in the end they were riding out of the city as it was being destroyed, but the wife could not help but look back, and was turned into a pillar of salt as punishment? That story upset me terribly as a kid. It seemed so cruel, and just for what? That sick feeling in your gut that makes you watch on even though you know you shouldn't?

I mean, I know now why it upset me so much. I would've looked too. It's absurd--

Not the other wild claims that were preached to us, interpretations rather than written word, while we all sat there drinking in the words like they were absolute. It was the damn pillar of salt that got me, that just ate me up inside. I can't help myself, I have to look. Every time. It's a real damned if I do, damned if I don't situation and all my life I've been told this ache to reach into the unknown horrors is wrong.. at least until I moved, anyways.

How could a deity punish something as wonderful as free thinking? Or curiosity? These stories make me wonder where the real harm was, or was it just simply another story to inspire fear in the hearts of men from as long back as fear possibly existed.

I want to be divorced from the inner child in me that still deep down believes it, and is half is expecting to be  struck dead for breathing life to such thoughts

And then there's the thought that's just outside of my periphery of "Oh, well what would you do of you had that level of power, Jules? Hmm?" And that just makes my brain buzz with anxiety because I know I'd doom us all.

yo do u have a kin list anywhere 👀

That's a good question--

As of right now, I do not have a kin list. This is due to the fact I still have not been able to find a source that completely matches my kin memories. That being said, I do have a list of sources I have been looking into in hopes of finding a connection which I will list here though if anyone finds any familiarity in me or the memories I depict in my posts, I urge you to reach out to me with any insight you can offer;

https://www.tumblr.com/imitative-magpie/777294067956580352/while-i-have-the-time-to-keep-up-on-my-blog?source=share 

damn, still no TMA on the kinsidering list? ;P - steph

Ah, you've noticed I don't have it categorized under complete, revised and/or a possible match. I understand why this might come as a surprise given the high number of source suggestions for this particular media, so maybe this might be a good time to break down my method in categorizing and researching different sources.

In order for me to feel comfortable organizing it under any one group, I try to at the very least get through at least one full watch through, read through, et cetera. From there, I will mark the source as completed, and look over the notes I have taken on what felt familiar to me or stood out. 

This is where I revise my notes and go through a second watch through comparing my previous notes with what I have written about my own experiences. Then and only then, will I categorize a source revised, or even possible match. Of course there are outliers to this method. Namely a certain famously long webcomic I had to make a special exemption for this rule. 

That being said, The Magnus Archives is still uncategorized in my source list because while I have gotten to know a couple of wonderful fictionkin/fictives from said source, I regret to say that I have not yet viewed the content. I do plan to remedy this however, in short time. 

Defanging Fear Itself

‘When I say end, I don't mean "lifeless", I mean "terminated life as we know it". This is an important distinction.’

 I keep staring at my dms, vacantly, pondering just what I’ve done. When I started to reach out out into the void, I had thought this was a noble sacrifice, and that if only I reached out-

Maybe I could erase all the harm that I’ve created. I think I lost track of that, somehow along the way. I was so caught up with filling this hollow part inside of me, so caught up with keeping myself warm that I hadn’t even considered the people I was setting on fire just to do so. 

…And here’s this guy, right? I’ve been talking to him for a while, and he just gets it. Everytime he talks to me, he’s given me nothing but sure guidance as if he can peer right into my mind and see just what I’m feeling- and lord, do I feel so much. It’s like I’m holding back an ocean of anxieties, and one word is the detonator. I think about what he’s told me a lot, mostly about how he died because I just couldn’t understand it. Why did someone so clever and swift have to die? How could you devote your whole life to something, only for it to turn around and stab you in the back? I think about myself, how I gave into the impulse, and I wound up in the hospital with an atrial fibrillation. I've given my whole life to something, and it's going to eat me alive.

‘Why did it have to end though? The world, I mean?’

Who am I trying to find? Would it really be helping them, if I asked them to remember me? Would sorry really be enough to rekindle their souls and make things right again?..Or am I just doing this for me? Maybe it’s better that I live my life, never knowing. The people I hurt may be living a beautiful life, far from the pain of whatever timeline that’s been shattered underneath my fingertips. I can only hope they are. 

He was willing to trade humanity for enlightenment, and because of it he was killed. Well, what does that make me?

 Is that who I truly am? 

Am I willing to kill the things I’ve been trying to save? Fear, it’s all I’ve talked about since I created this blog. Humans have been telling tales of fear since the dawn of man, because we crave the cortisol and adrenaline like rich silk under our fingers. I don’t think I was laying to rest your fears, when I came out of the dark to carve into you with inquiry, I think I was just breathing life into old wounds, and you deserved better than that. Trading a complete life for a high that will never hit the same hardly seems fair, so let's turn around and bite the hand that feeds us out of spite. It's hurt you, and it's hurt me. If we don't we'll succumb to desensitization, or an even worse fate. We need to defang these fears before they swallow us whole. 

I’ll defang myself first.

I promise. 

(Consent for this documented information has been given by all parties involved.)

It has come to my attention that simply having one post on my blog, without posting anything else to get my account name out there or to at least allow others a tell on my personality in order to see if I am familiar to them, is overall counterproductive to my blog. So, I will occasionally post on here. I can't guarantee that the majority of them will be fictionkin related either-- so look forward to that dashboard whiplash showing up on your screen.