#backrooms journal

[backroomsjournal]

Currently on: Level 11 "Infinite city"

This level is really similiar to our reality.

Finally, no weird entities.

Only facelings that act like normal humans.

I'm in some restaurant, waiting for my order. I kind of forgot that I'm still in the backrooms.

It's a nice feeling.

[thejournallo]

what is the difference between the void and the void state? Aren't they same thing?

Yes, there are two different things! I already talked a little about the actual difference between the two, but I get that what the void is is not common knowledge and is not part of the Loa community. 

If you are interested, I may do a whole post about the differences between the void and the void state.

[angel-with-a-migraine]

I loooove being liminalkin cause like I’ll see those horror weird nostalgia stuff with creepy music and get all giddy. like “omg friend!! that’s another me that’s just a guy!! hello!!” it’s wonderful

[raskoolz]

Liminal Spaces

Recently, I've noticed a growing trend online of people posting photos of liminal spaces and forming internet communities around this concept.

So what are liminal spaces?

In your own daily life, you may have noticed that there are certain places or states of being in which you may have felt different, "off", or uncomfortable. These places are often associated with liminal spaces and there's a reason why they may seem so uncanny or feel surreal.

The word "liminal" comes from the latin word limen, which in English means "threshold".

The anthropologist, Arnold van Gennep first wrote about the concept of liminality when he developed the idea of rites of passage.

He defined:

a "rite of separation" (preliminary rite)

a "rite of transition" (liminary rite)

and a "rite of incorporation" (post-liminal rite)

This transition theory was formed to explain the pattern he observed when it comes to changes in people's lives.

In short, liminal spaces are transitional or transformative spaces. It's the uncertain transition between where you've been, and where you're going- whether it means physically, mentally or metaphorically.

As a result, these places are often associated with an abandoned or sad atmosphere. They are also usually tied to feelings of despair, confusion, and hopelessness- as well as wonder, awe, and curiosity. Often it is also tied to the idea of a disconnect from the concept of reality or a neglected aesthetic.

To be in a liminal space means to be on the precipice of something, but not quite there yet. Often, when we are in liminal spaces, we have a feeling as if we are on the verge of discovering something new.

This can, of course, take the form of a literal physical place, but it can also take the form of physiological or mental states. There are liminal spaces, but maybe also liminal people- liminal careers, liminal relationships, and liminal events.

A recent example of this can be found during our own lived experience of going through COVID. A worldwide pandemic that brought a halt to our usual routines and day-to-day functions.

(And because this was the case, I think it should come as no surprise that this was when the idea of liminal spaces became more popular online.)

Perhaps what these bizzare/surreal/spooky pictures of abandoned places, and empty rooms allows us to do is to come to terms with our own feelings of confusion or dread.

For some of us (or even a majority of us), maybe we are currently living in a liminal space.

Maybe things don't make sense for you right now, and that's okay.

Maybe things are weird, different, or unfamiliar- and the rules, guiding belief systems, or structures you inhabit have changed, and you've lost your own footing within all that.

But perhaps- if you allow it, these conditions are precisely what is necessary for you to come to a deeper understanding of yourself. Only through these experiences of uncertainty can we learn to tap into the permanently available recreative power we all carry within each of us.

Maybe we could also learn to see the beauty, awe, and mystique that comes with these pictures- and to appreciate them for what they are:

A way for us to just "be" and be okay with it.

[wishicouldcrossthesea]

[arachnicas]

This may be too cruel of me to post, but imagine if the Go Home Machine accidentally sent Miles to The Backrooms?

Imagine this panicked, scared kid traveling through empty office rooms, uncomfortably moist yellow rooms, and infinite hallways with no way out. Miles is strong, agile, and quick to avoid the monsters that stalk the backrooms, traveling through each level and encountering horror after horror to find his way home. Miguel and his team follow after him but also find themselves stuck with no way out.

Both parties form an uneasy alliance to survive each level together, but for every level they clear and every creature they encounter, they risk being trapped forever and losing their sanity.

[missazura]

everybody gangsta until you're trapped in a hellish maze in the nightmare realm

[thebackroomsjournalist]

Welcome to my page!

I will be posting some journal like entries for as many backrooms levels as I can possibly fit in my sketch pad. They may not look the best for now but I assure you the quality of them will rise as I acquire a style to do entries in

Level 3 will be posted today later on, enjoy level 0-2 for now!

(Ps, feel free to judge it, just don’t be rude about it)

[virtual-minotaur]

just saw a stupid take. myhouse.wad is not "ripping" its horror elements from house of leaves, its a tribute to it. "all the good elements of horror/unease/dread are from house of leaves" its paying tribute to it of course its going to have the same elements. did we even play/watch the same game.

[backroomsjournal]

Currently on: Level 11 "Infinite city"

So I've spent my Christmas and New Year in the Backrooms.

I miss my family. It's kind of lonely here. I wonder if they're still trying to find me.

I feel guilty. They probably miss me too, right?

They cry, they can't sleep.

I hope I'll find the exit soon.

Atleast I've got to watch fireworks here. They give me some hope.

[anemonesy]

🌸I'm looking for new mutuals🌸

If we share any interests, feel free to interact 🩷

🫧genshin impact

🫧monster high

🫧cozy vibes

🫧makeup

🫧journaling

🫧penpalling

🫧cats

🫧books

🫧pokemon

🫧langblr (arabic and icelandic)

🫧astrology

🫧dazecore

🫧backrooms

[thejournallo]

Hi, I once entered the void but I am not sure which void it was. I feel asleep and felt like falling and then I was in it. After that I learned what the Void really is. since then I can't "wake up" in it again but I am trying to program myself or my brain to wake up in the void aware.. I just stopped having dreams and wake up every two hours... I feel like I don't get deep sleep anymore since I am doing that..

Hi! When we become aware of things like what the void is, the backrooms, etc., it is normal because we are experiencing or have experienced something much bigger than us.

It happened to me too. I was so worried that my dreams would never come back, but they sure did stronger than ever and even more realistic. So don't worry about your sleep; it will be okay in a few weeks when your brain will understand that you are not in a danger zone anymore.

When we first enter a state of shock from something like the void, it is only natural for the brain to be more aware of our surroundings, and that's why we wake up in the middle of the night.

[nerrissadevampyre]

Random thoughts while on the bus #1

I think the reason I truly love the concept of the backrooms, liminal spaces and liminality in general is because they are far from scary or unnerving for me; don't get me wrong I love all the creepy lore about the entities that border on the creepypasta genre as a whole or rather as "the campfire tales of the internet" as I lovingly like to call them, but there's something intrinsically sad and beautiful about liminality.

The fact that there's no destination to be reached, that there's no way out of the endless corridors of moldy yellow wallpaper and fuzzing neon lights, the endless suburbia or the poolrooms, is very similar to a lot of people's real lives in the sense that they spent years in waiting for something to happen, for a destination to be reached; that may be anything, from working at a job you don't like till the prospect of a better one arises and the kind of excitement and anxiety one feels as they change the course of their life; from dating and/or hooking up in the hopes of meeting that one true love the movie industry (falsely) taught you to wish for; from the change of your body to someone you have no memories with but with whom the best-and worst- memories might yet be created.

Liminality is present to most people's lives whether they realise it or not; and for most of them the first instinct is to get out of that twilight zone between being and not being, happening and not happening; but for some of us, liminality is all we know to be truly safe: you never know if the destination you so wish to reach is the one you really need to get to; perhaps the life you so seek lies in the waiting, in the travelling, in that zone of grey.

[swissliminals]

Hey Guys check out my other social media accounts for more liminal space/weirdcore art:

X: https://x.com/oswissliminals

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/official_swiss_liminal_spaces/

Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/user/swissliminalspaces/

Pinterest: https://de.pinterest.com/officialswissliminalspaces/

[lovlyboy]

work Sucked today

[monmuses]

Anonymous asked: Drabble Idea: A parking lot at 3 am. ; Send me a creepy scenario/location and character(s) and I’ll write a drabble for it.

There is an old notebook with a torn open cover on the ring of the spine, with the name of "Jinx" etched into the front cover. The book opens up to a page that lays on the wet concrete of a sidewalk, side by side to an old parking lot with a gloomy atmosphere. The fog lays thick in the road with a single floodlight that lights up the surface, holding a sign to an old diner. The name of the diner is fading off of the plastic. The smell reeks of wet paint and petrichor.

A journal entry is on the front page. It reads:

Dear Boone,

I swear I've put like, at least sixteen of these entries to keep my mind at bay. Every step I take, I feel my brain getting pulled farther and farther away. I feel empty. I'm a walking husk out here. I've gone through so many offices with yellow wallpaper, and the sound of the humming from the ceiling lights was driving me crazy for hours.

I saw some clocks, but all of the hands were frozen. It feels like I've been here for years... but it also feels like I've only been here for a few minutes. After those yellow wallpaper offices, I walked through some old parking garage that had no cars. Just a lot of dim lights. I could barely see, but my vision is a lot better than it used to be. Being a vampire has its perks, I guess. I need blood... a lot of blood.

My teeth won't stop itching. They itch and itch and itch. I'm hungry, Boone. I'm so hungry. I'm gonna drive myself fucking crazy if I stay here any longer. I need you. I need you so badly. The spit in my mouth tastes like dentist water and iron. I thought this place was gonna have ... some kind of food, but I just keep walking and walking. ... I've chewed my pen a couple times and there's ink coming out of the top now. It tastes awful.

A blank page separates the entry, but on the next page, it's covered in wet spots and running ink. It reads:

I found grass. It smells like home again. ... It's dark, but I don't see no moon or stars. Did I make it? ... I don't know if I did, but I don't see anything or anyone. I see something bright ... in the distance.

... Wait. I found a diner. There's a parking lot, but it's .... huge. All of the white lines for car spaces keeps going and going for miles. I don't know where it ends, but there's one big light that's spinning. Like a diner sign ... I don't know what it's called, but I can smell something.

It's so dark. There's so much fog, I can barely see fucking anything out here. I'm scared, Boone. I don't want to die out here ... but I'm so hungry. Find me here.

My teeth are itching again ...

The ink has spilled across the page, sinking into the pages. Rain has begun to settle, bringing the smell of petrichor from the road into the air. The diner is still open with a door swung wide. The smell of food lingers from inside, and sounds of cooking and boiling oil can be heard. Is someone inside?