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Watching untranslated video clips on the school chromebook while scrolling through the dialog in English that some translated and posted on twitter.

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She is finally public guys. The ultimate recap of SKAM (season 1).

This took so much time to make, but I'm finally done and working on the recap of season 2.

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A new short story coming today at 18:00 CET!

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Underground

TW: blood, vomiting, buried alive

I once had an unsettling dream. I’m familiar with nightmares but none scared me as much as the one I’m about to tell you about.

The whole thing started once I opened my eyes. I was in complete darkness, but despite that I remained calm, curious as I am usually not very fond of it. I was very comfortable, lying on soft bedding. I ran my fingers over the material, it reminded me of silk. I must have been lying in one position for quite some time and when I tried to turn on my side I realised for the first time I was not lying in bed but rather in a confined space.

I put my hands to the sides trying to find a way out. No luck.

Touching the walls around me I determined that the box was made of wood. I had mixed feelings about this discovery. I would need a lot of time to break out of my confinement but it was possible nonetheless.

Without losing any more time I hit my fist on the ceiling with as much force as I could muster. I was unsurprised when this brought no results, so I hit it again with just much strength.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud…

This is when I panicked.

Desperate to get out a new unexpected strength came over me, taking complete control of my body. Fists turned to fingernails, hits turned to scratches. Soon enough the soft silk-like material that adorned the inside of the box lay in ripped shards on my upper body.

The sound of nails on wood was horrendous. I screamed as loudly as I could, yet I knew no one would come to my rescue. My frustration and desperation only grew with each passing second. I finally became aware of the seriousness of my situation. 

I lay buried in a casket deep, deep underground.

I didn’t know how much time passed, it felt like hours yet I did not make much progress. Still, my determination persisted.

Finally, I could feel the damage done to the wood, previously sleek now all scratched up.

My fingers hurt horribly, I felt like they would fall off at any moment. Even in pain, I did not allow myself to stop for even a second, something in my mind told me this was my only chance to escape; a single break could destroy everything.

At one point I started feeling a new sensation. My fingers became wet, thick blood dripping down my arms no doubt staining the bedding all around me. Soon the coppery smell filled the casket. The smell made me feel sick and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from vomiting.

The pain was not all that back, as weird as it sounds it helped me ground myself in a way. A new wave of strength washed over me and just when my fingers started going numb I heard the upper wall cracking. I pushed all my weight onto the lid, the sound of breaking wood was the most amazing thing I ever experienced.

Instantly I got drowned in dirt. It filled my nose, mouth and ears. I kept my eyes shut tightly. Moving became almost impossible but I refused to give up and soon enough I managed to start digging. I did not know how deep underground I was and truthfully I was not interested in knowing.

At that moment I became Sisyphus. Every time I dug away a portion of dirt a new one would fall on top, seemingly bigger and heavier than the previous one. A gruelling task with no end in sight.

I never liked the smell of soil, especially after rain. The mouldy stench rose high and penetrated clothes, hair and in some impossible way skin. This time I could not simply get rid of it, it was so much more horrendous. For the first time, I was truly chocked by it. My nostrils were filled by it, not just by its smell but the dirt itself, denying me breath.

I dug. And dug. Continued to dig.

Worms were crawling on my skin. I could feel them on my arms, legs, face. Everywhere.

I wondered if the smell of fresh blood attracted flesh-eating insects. Were they currently biting at the tips of my fingers, I couldn’t tell.

I was in pain. My lungs felt as if they were on fire and I became lightheaded. Was this my end? Is this how I’m supposed to die? Succoming to suffocation after being buried alive. I was slowly starting to accept this fate when I finally broke ground.

I could feel the wind on on fingers. As if in a trance I dug with much more force than before.

I stumbled and fell on top of the ground. My feet were still buried when I started vomiting. My throat burned, abused by soil and stomach acid. All that came out was dark dirt and a singular worm, still swirling around.

I looked up at the sky. I so hoped for rain, a downright pour that would wash me off the filth, of what had happened. To my dismay the sky was clear, the full moon illuminating everything around. Shameful I let my head fall back down, I knew the moon was still looking at me, disgusted and disappointed by my actions.

I woke up suddenly, instantly sitting up. I looked around, silently praying to not find myself in a grave a second time. A nightmare in a nightmare. I breathed out, even in the darkness I knew I was in my bed, at home. I was never more happy to have woken up in the middle of the night. Every scene of the nightmare was still deeply ingrained in my memory, it would probably stay that way until my end. But this was all it was, a simple nightmare.

In the coming morning, I wondered how all this dirt got under my fingernails.

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[image description: seven Black Sails image edits.

First image: a screenshot of an article headline from The Onion that says, "Things To Never Say To Someone Who Just Came Out" and that has been edited to say, "Published June 24, 1716".

Second image: A quote that says "They hang men for this." above a photo of Miranda.

Third image: A quote that says "Take him. And get the fuck off my beach." above a photo of Teach.

Fourth image: A quote that says "I don't give a shit what goes on in there. fuck Flint. Don't fuck Flint. fuck Billy. Don't fuck Billy." above a photo of Israel Hands.

Fifth image: A quote that says "Come to bed when you're through." above a photo of Jack Rackham.

Sixth image: A quote that says "Had I that instinct, I would resist it with every inch of will I could muster." above a photo of Vane.

Seventh image: A quote that says "You can see how this might be of particular and immediate concern for me." above a photo of Silver.

/end description]

(ID by @somfte)

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nodding whenever flint is on screen to let everyone know that i agree with his actions

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Me when the themes and motifs connect in my brain

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people vaguely saying 'the horrors' as shorthand for 'life problems, don't worry about it' in conversations where the problems are not going to be delved into has got to be one of my favorite new Ways Of Speaking that has emerged. like it's polite and vague and succinct enough for impersonal conversation but also extremely honest. it's very funny. The Horrors. we all know of them.

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There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

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A new short story Underground available tomorrow at 6pm CET on Substack!

Click the pic to find my Substack page.

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me when I write

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you've probably heard it before, but half-assed is better than no-assed. don't let perfect stand in the way of done. a 0 on your report card is worse than a 50. do it scared. do it wrong. do it ugly, just do it. do not wait for the perfect day to have your little treat. make a day better with the treat. life is for the living. make outsider art

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Evansville Press, Indiana, February 5, 1912

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BREAKING NEWS: Writer discovers for the millionth time that they can write whatever they want. Join us now to see if the lesson will stick.

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