#oscillate! illusion

[dravidious]

HAHA FUCK YES! YES!!

FOR REFERENCE, THIS IS MADE FROM THIS STILL IMAGE

[seriallover]

Shatabhisha- Stuck in a loop!?⭕️

Ruled by Rahu and situated in a sign governed by Saturn, Shatabhisha Nakshatra intertwines the themes of Rahu and Saturn.

Rahu represents obsession, addiction, perfectionism, illusion, desires, and the material world. Saturn, on the other hand, symbolizes restriction, ambition, delays, and discipline. This nakshatra is intriguing to observe because Saturn is often seen as the only planet capable of controlling and restricting Rahu. Addiction is a recurring theme for those heavily influenced by Shatabhisha Nakshatra.

Rahu, symbolizing the insatiable head/mouth, constantly seeks satisfaction. People with strong Shatabhisha influence may struggle with feeling perpetually unfulfilled.

The main symbol of Shatabhisha is an empty closed circle, representing restriction, karma, and limits. ⭕️

This reminds me of a snake eating its own tail, a metaphor for self-destruction often seen in these natives. They may feel stuck in a loop, constantly desiring more than they have, feel, or can access. This symbol illustrates their urge to break free from patterns and limitations.

Shatabhisha also embodies the power to heal, represented by the 100 physicians and healers. Individuals influenced by this nakshatra often have a strong desire for self-improvement, healing, and spiritual growth. They are driven to push boundaries and explore their limits, often oscillating between extremes—addiction to unhealthy behaviors or a "perfect" lifestyle.

Lewis Hamilton is an excellent example of someone who effectively harnesses the energy of Shatabisha. His ascendant lord, Venus, is in Shatabhisha, conjunct his Mars in the 5th house. His Rahu is in Krittika of Taurus, with Venus as the dispositor. Lewis follows a plant-based diet and is very strict with his fitness regimen, as even a small weight gain can affect his racing performance.

This year, he launched a non-alcoholic Blue Agave Spirit, Almave, produced in Mexico.🥃

Krittika, associated with the deity Agni, the god of fire, governs cooking, drinks, and digestion. Agni has the power to burn/purify, reflecting his disciplined approach to diet and lifestyle.🔥

Another example, she’s Shatabhisha Moon.

Another example that comes to mind is Emily Blunt, who has her Sun in Shatabhisha, fittingly playing a role in “Edge of Tomorrow” that mirrors the themes of this nakshatra, as well.

In the film, her character, Sergeant Rita Vrataski, helps Major William Cage (Tom Cruise) break free from a time loop by repeatedly facing and overcoming challenges. Rita’s journey in the movie reflects the Shatabhisha themes of perseverance, healing and ultimately, breaking the cycle to achieve a greater purpose.

Dealing with Rahu's influence can lead to excess, a desire to experience, feel everything or nothing.

However, understanding one's restrictions and seeing the bigger picture can bring freedom. Recognizing and accepting personal limitations allows one to channel obsessive desires into sustaining something meaningful in the material world.

By acknowledging and respecting these restrictions, individuals can transform Rahu's chaotic energy into focused ambition and disciplined action, leading to significant achievements and personal growth.

[swaps55]

Mezzo - 11 - Gravity

Pairing: mshenko | Rating: M

Tags: Canon-typical violence, trauma, dealing with your problems poorly, body autonomy struggles  

Summary: The twists and turns of ME2, through the eyes of everyone but Commander Shepard.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath.  

Chapter 10: Gravity | Read on Ao3

12 December 2185, Shadow Sea, Iera System, Horizon, Kodiak 9755, Normandy SR-2 Approach

The Kodiak lifts off with a jerk that Miranda feels in her gut. Shepard stands rather than sits, gripping a handle hanging from the ceiling tight in his fist, eyes gazing out the shutter as Horizon disappears beneath them.

“Shepard,” she says quietly.

“EDI,” Shepard says into the comm before she can say another word. “I need that ship. Do we know where it was headed?”

“I was unable to extrapolate likely destinations based on relay vector. However, it is likely they are returning through the Omega 4.”

“Can we catch them before they get there?”

“Negative.”

Shepard slams his fist against the bulkhead. It leaves a dent.

“We can use the data from EDI’s scans—” Miranda begins, but Shepard cuts her off.

“What was Project Overlord?”

She stutters. “I—”

“What was Project Overlord?”

“Shepard, I don’t know. But I will find out.”

He holds her gaze before striding out of the hold in favor of the cockpit.

Silence reigns.

“Solus, if you don’t shut down these oscillators I’m going to rip them off,” Jack speaks up eventually.

“Certainly.”

A few keystrokes to his omnitool later, the gravity well shifts, that heavy, cold feeling evaporating. Grunt groans in relief. Miranda stares at her hands.

“You knew Shepard’s former crew was down there,” she says aloud, directing her attention to Vakarian.

“Alenko, yeah,” he admits. “Shepard didn’t say anything about the others. I…don’t think he knew.”

Her fists curl into her lap. The Illusive Man told Shepard, but didn’t tell me. Shepard had told Vakarian but hadn’t seen it necessary to inform his second in command. How can I do my job if I am perpetually left in the dark?

Shepard reappears moments later, eyes on Grunt. “As soon as we dock, take those salvaged weapons to Taylor. I want to know everything about them.”

“The more we know, the better we kill,” Grunt declares, smashing his fist against the arm rest. It buckles.

Shepard paces the compartment with an almost frantic, nervous energy, rattling off his orders like he’s afraid of the space between the words. “Solus, I want a personal debrief on the seeker swarm countermeasure in two hours.”

“Countermeasure effective, but hoping data collected during mission will provide insight for improving efficacy while minimizing side effects.”

“Thank fuck,” Jack says, eyeing Shepard warily. The gravity well ripples as she twirls dark energy in her fingers.

Shepard grits his teeth. “I need to know if we learned anything about their physiology. Technology. Communication. Get whoever you need to go through the data. I want answers.”

“Understood.”

“Lawson, I need a better plan than ‘figure out the Omega 4.’ I need a damned target. I’m not playing cat and mouse with these assholes.”

Read from the beginning | Read the rest on Ao3 | The Mezzo Playlist

[internalearthquake]

my ghosts within

In the midst of what seems mundane lies a hidden world

Ghosts surround me, accompanying my every step

The lost, the unmet, the real, the imagined

These translucent entities haunt and console me

Wispy figments shift in and out of awareness 

Subdued whispers, their presence felt but never seen 

What may seem ordinary masks profound challenges

I push aside my ghosts who yearn to be acknowledged

Fragile mind oscillates betwixt clarity and confusion

A perpetual struggle to live in the present 

The universe is littered with daily reminders

of what once was… 

of what could have been…

of what I have lost…

of what was never mine…

of what will never be…

Every hushed whisper, every reverberating echo

My ghosts represent these fragments of my narrative

An incomplete history of distortions and illusions

Leaves me feeling incomplete

So, who am I?

What may often be overlooked carries significance to me

Unanswered questions ignite chaos within my mind

I navigate an unsolvable labyrinth of mystery

External investigations cannot unveil these buried truths

Healing lies in reconciling with my ghosts within

Dialogue with them holds the key to my liberation,

Clearing away the misty fog that clouds my perception

By forgiving the past and accepting the unknown,

I can release my ghosts from my internal world

Empowered, I can forge my own narrative,

Finally discovering who I am

[behindblueeyesrpg]

[BEHIND BLUE EYES] 

coucou tout le monde 🌊

après des mois de travail et de réflexion, nous vous présentons enfin notre bébé behind blue eyes, forum city qui se situe à Charleston et qui tire ses inspirations de la série Outer Banks. avec une pré ouverture qui a eu lieu hier, nous comptons actuellement une soixantaine de membres qui sont prêts à vous accueillir et écrire avec vous. ✨

le forum se veut tranquille, tout les personnages sont les bienvenus et nous voulons que bbe soit un cocon où vous pourrez vous épanouir dans vos écrits, dans un cadre sain et posé.

Sous les chênes centenaires drapés de mousse espagnole, se camoufle doucereuse beauté aux apparences trompeuses. Élégance pour façade, outil parfaitement manipulé pour dissimuler les vérités qu’on ne veut pas dévoiler. Derrière chaque regard, un secret qu’on tait, des désirs non assumés et des murmures étouffés. Entre belles bâtisses aux balcons en fer forgé qui crachent leur luxe aux visages des plus modestes, déshérités de toute fortune sans la chance d’être privilégiés, la ville oscille entre le faste et la déchéance, entre l’illusion et une réalité plus rude à assumer. Chacun aspire à être reconnu pour ce qu'il n'est pas, à échapper au carcan des attentes sociales et à briser les chaînes de l'illusion. Mais au-delà des masques et des faux-semblants, se cache la vérité nue et crue de ce que nous sommes réellement. Entre familles influentes et gamins offerts à la rue, les rivalités entre les quartiers gangrènent et bouffent chaque habitant jusqu’à la moelle, comme un divin poison indolore. Désormais, cerner le vrai du faux s’avère être une tâche compliquée. Les nantis se pavanent dans l’opulence et l’excès sous les regards sombres de ceux qui n’ont jamais rien eu, ignorant les luttes des démunis qui survivent dans l’ombre de leurs privilèges. On se vante d’une réussite au détriment des autres, crachant ainsi sur une misère que tout le monde cache sous le tapis; par fierté ou pour ne pas faire face à ses responsabilités ou à la culpabilité qui pourrait ronger les os. Mais au-delà des tromperies, des préjugés et des chances mal distribuées, il subsiste une lueur d’espoir, un souffle de vérité qui terrasse les illusions et révèle la beauté cachée derrière les apparences bâties avec acharnement. Ici, il n’y a qu’un pas entre la lumière et l’ombre, c’est dans cette dualité que réside la véritable essence de la ville et de ses habitants.

en plus ; un rp par mois ; une semaine pour terminer sa fiche ; pas de minimum de mots ; respect des tw ; premier dc offert ; rythme chill. REJOIGNEZ-NOUS: https://behindblueeyes.forumactif.com/

DISCORD: https://discord.gg/WKUPyaKw

coeur sur vous, on vous attend avec impatience. 🦋

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 3) (Interactive Story)

A little violence never hurts right? Well, violence was picked, and violence we shall have!

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal

Ships: Shadowpeach

Angst: You betcha

Fluff: With enough choices, maybe we'll get there.

----------

The weight of Wukong's cold indifference felt crushing, driving him to the brink of madness. In a blind rage, he unleashes a primal scream and charged forward like a raging bull, his fists clenched tight enough to draw blood- if there was any to draw from.

He would have focused on this if he wasn’t so blinded with fury. Nothing would stop him from breaking through Wukong's impenetrable wall of apathy. The urge to draw pain from the other, to make Wukong see him, was too powerful to contain. Macaque felt the air whistle past him as he lunged, wrath propelling him like a storm flinging debris. “You think you can just ignore me?!”

The King remained still, a statue carved from granite, seemingly unfazed by the tempest boiling behind Macaque's eyes. “WUKONG!” Instead of connecting to soft flesh and silky fur as he expected to, Macaque was falling forward.

Straight through his mate, like he was nothing more than illusion.

Macaque’s screech cut into a gasp, arching out as he landed roughly.

The ground beneath Macaque's fist sent sharp pain shooting up his arm, the first real sensation he felt he had since awakening.

He recoiled, confusion washing over him like the waterfall he had just fled. In that moment of contact with solid earth, he felt a resonance, a pulse that spread through his veins. It was as if he was struck by thunder, held perfectly still in fear it would end him there and then. All with his eyes locked upward to the Monkey that was now behind him, eyes closed and at ease.

His entire body had phased through Wukong like it wasn’t even there.

Panic surged in Macaque’s chest, his breath coming in sharp, frantic wheezes. He pulled his fist back and scrambled to his feet, feeling the tremor of the earth beneath him still resonating with the energy he had barely comprehended. Wukong remained unyielding, unbothered by Macaque's conflicting turmoil as though he floated on a different plane than the one Macaque was trapped in.

Macaque blinked hard, trying to focus through the blurriness that had returned to his vision, the world around him shifting slightly like a mirage. The mountain peak seemed to shift, oscillate between reality and a fake copy.

Then it settled and he was left beside Wukong, watching him meditate.

“Poor fella. You hate to see it happen.” 

The voice floated around him, smooth and teasing like silk stretching over steel. Macaque’s heart lurched as he spun to find a third figure materializing from the shadows— an unfamiliar silhouette with wicked eyes glimmering with humor.

A second figure joined the first, “Unaware. So confused.” dressed in billowing black, the robes held a hood that shrouded their faces, small grins gleaming underneath.

Macaque tensed and turned, angling himself to the sound of the voices. Wukong, the ever unmoving rock within is quiet contemplation, didn’t stir to the sound. Only Macaque seemed aware of the presence of two strangers, eyeing them as they emerged from the trees. 

“Who are you?” Macaque lifted his hand to summon his staff. When it didn’t form between his fingers, he paled, staring at his own feet. Where once there was a shadow, always present and attached, there was nothing. 

He was nothing. 

It was like he didn’t even exist. 

The sheer alarm he felt coiled in his chest, making him stumble back in hopes of seeing his shadow- that it was just a trick of the light. There was nothing- no darkness or semblance of anything below his feet. 

The voices seemed to chuckle at his display, “It’s always pitiful to see someone come to terms with it.”

Macaque shot his head up, “What?” He hissed. 

“Such a shame,” one of the figures said, stepping forward with an exaggerated sway, “to find yourself so utterly lost. No shadow to guide you home, no tether to pull you back.” Their voice dripped with mock sympathy that curled around Macaque’s fraying sanity.

“Who… What do you want?” Macaque’s voice trembled, a feeble attempt to mask the quaking in his chest.

The second figure slinked closer, their mere presence cold enough to snuff out the warmth around them. “Took quite some time to get you to surface, Liu’er Mihou.” they tsked, shaking their heads.

“You know my name?” he croaked. The figures loomed closer, shrouded in their gauzy cloaks, flickering like shadows caught in a flame. "

"Of course, we know your name," the first figure purred, their voice curling around Macaque like a vine ready to strangle. "In the undercurrents of despair, whispers travel further than the wind. They are... persistent, much like you."

Macaque couldn’t shake the sensation of being scrutinized, dissected for their amusement. “Why have you come here?” The words came out more defiantly than he felt within. His eyes flickered to Wukong. Was he so against even speaking to him that he was willing to ignore even this? It made his chest ache…

The second figure chuckled softly, "Why? To guide you, of course." They extended a pale hand towards Macaque, fingers twisting and curling as if weaving a grand tapestry only they could see.

“Guide me?” Macaque spat, “I need no guidance from you two.”

They glance at each other, then giggle. “All souls need a hand or two when venturing to the Diyu.”

Macaque recoiled at the mention of Diyu—the realm of the dead. He felt the ground shift beneath him again as if the very earth was pulling away from him. “The Diyu?” he whispered in disbelief. "The only people who go there are those who are-” he cut off, a cold dread bubbling in his stomach. No…

The figures smiled, tilting their heads, “Dead?”

Bone chilling cold was a sensation he wasn’t pleased to feel. “I’m not-!” It was then that he remembered. Or perhaps, he had always remembered, he had just denied it. The crunch of his skull, the wail of Wukong- the cold.

The unbearable cold.

His hand lifted to his chest, clutching the fabric there to feel his unbeating heart. Unseen, unheard, no longer a presence for a shadow to latch to in this world.

"I died," he whispered.

They nodded, eerily in unison as they stared at him. “Quite some time ago, actually.”

Macaque swallowed hard, “H-How- How long?”

”By this time, years. Perhaps 10..? 20?” They stare around, ears flickering curiously. , "We would have collected your soul a while ago but you sure were stuck.” 

“S-stuck?”

”You soul had latched so tightly, we had to wait until you drew yourself from it." They held out their fingers to point 

Macaque glanced at where their boney fingers pointed; Wukong's staff that rested to the side of him. 

His visibly recoiled. His soul had latched to that horrendous thing of all things?

”Sometimes souls can get stuck. Perhaps to the weapon that killed them, or a mythical object within their vicinity when they pass. We’ve seen a lot of different reasons.”

With buzzing thoughts and an aching chest, Macaque slowly sunk into a crouch, clutching his head. He edged a tad bit away from Wukong- from his staff.

He had killed him.

His mate had killed him.

"And now that you’re free," the first figure drawled, "we can finally help you transcend this state. No more binding threads, Macaque. No more ties to this realm." The gleam in their hollow eyes sparked with a hunger that made his skin crawl. “It’s time to come with us,” they held their hands out again.

Previous part

Next:

[realbeefman]

i do think it’s crazy that fucking. CW vampire diaries stefan salvatore’s blood addiction is the Realest representation of the whole binge-restrict ed cycle i’ve ever seen . like Yeah sometimes i eat and it literally Does feel like i just killed someone and ill never be clean and i want to flip a switch in my brain that makes me stop caring about anything other than the high im chasing. and then there’s the restriction the wavering the never being strong enough to do anything. always grasping for Control. violently oscillating between two extremes and the Illusion Of It they offer. never been a metaphor in any other show i’ve seen that hits at the heart of the Feeling of it all as well as tvd did.

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

You know, because it's hard to give a massive amount of character in one post, I'm gonna list stuff about alternate rusted knights here

Repentant Thief: Emerald Sustrai, desperate for company used her semblance to hallucinate her friends/allies. Over time as her memory of them began failing, the illusions became flatter, more generic in their kindness and support, and at some points she truly believes that's what RWBY and Co. were like, while at others she can't stand the sight of them, the inaccuracies making her sick to her stomach.

She waits for her Heroes. The ones that saved her before.

She wears leather armor with a Leather helm that covers the lower portion of her face, with a large cloak and hood over all of it. her pants are very similar to previoupairs, simply plainer and sturdier. She has traded heels in for full hiking boots.

~~~~~

Fathomless Angler: Clover Ebi, now an old man, has grown tired, very, very tired. So tired he no longer cares to find a way out, and lets time slip by - He never read The Girl that fell Through the World, his knowledge of it's tale being minimal. He figures this is some twisted afterlife, that he'd done wrong fighting Qrow and has to let himself be punished for fighting his friend.

He Waits, as catching a fish is mostly waiting for it to take the bait. He's still trying to figure out his fish.

Clover wears a faded, dusty Atlesian coat, meant to have water and snow slide right off, with a large scarf and slick bucket hat. due to lack of care, his beard has grown long and scraggly, a veritable bush of salt and pepper. He wears Waders in place of his old Military boots.

~~~~~

The Cobalt Knight (Oxidized Cobalt): Alyx, upon deciding to amend her mistakes in the Ever After was assaulted by The Curious Cat. Jaune Arc, the Rusted Knight, still sick from the poison rushed to her aid. In the end, Alyx was saved, and the cat slinked away to lick it's wounds.

Jaune's didn't make it, and was swallowed by the tree.

Alyx, unable to heal him, to fix this mistake took up his weapons and trained. She was smart - out maneuvering and outsmarting the cat for years until she was able to fight it directly. Then they stayed apart, the Cat not wanting to risk themself, and Alyx not wanting to her own life in revenge.

Alyx waits for the same reasons Jaune did - Guilt, anger, self-loathing, and a need to help RWBY, with all the same weapons he fought with; Mind, Sword, and Shield.

She wears armor like Jaune's only simpler, and lighter, and in FAR better condition - only a little dirty and scuffed.

~~~~~

The Frosted Empress (Lonely): Weiss Schnee, Knowing all she had to do was wait, did just that. She waited. and Waited. And waited. She did her best to stay stable, she practiced arts, she kept up her training, she began to speak to herself in off moments, she never got along with people too much liker herself so Alyx was a handful to deal with.

She oscillates between a very sweet, matronly figure, and an Icy, bitchy Vol-1-esque personality, with moments of lucidity being not too uncommon.

This Weiss wears very simply constructed outfits - basic chain mail and dresses, with immense ornamentation, and a veil, like one would wear at a funeral. She has many different trinkets - leaves, feathers, jewelry and what not.

~~~~~

The Wilted Rose: Ruby Rose fell into the Ever After, and Suffered. She fought as much as she always had, but with no support, no clear goal and the weight of her failings crushing her, Alyx and Lewis were the Straws that broke the Camel's back.

She Ascended into the one person she knew could do anything.

Summer rose.

As motherly and sweet as ever, this rose has thorns only for The Curious Cat - even if she can't remember why.

She looks like an older Summer. With like, very graying hair. It's just Summer Rose.

[swannieluv]

｡ﾟ･The Bold Mendacity – 𝟓. First friend

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐆.𝐈 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 2,6k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: Mentions of drowning and almost death.

✦⸼࣪⸳𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨: ♡

✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: Hii! I hope you guys enjoy this fluffy chapter. And yes this is the longest one until now because I definitely wanted to give you all some happiness 😊 /hj

Your lungs ached as if they were burning from the inside, which was ironic because the only thing leaving them was water. Being able to breathe freely was liberating. The worst part of drowning wasn't "dying", but the pain of breathing water.

"H-Hm... do you want me to call someone?" The blond boy tried to help you, patting you lightly on the back. Nothing came of it, but the intention had been good.

"N-No..."

You decided to stay lying down, the pain in your body oscillating between mild and sharp stabs. The horrible sensation of wet clothes sticking to your body and a gigantic tiredness made you close your eyes once more, only to open them again with a strong jolt.

"D-Don't die, please!" The boy looked a little desperate, thinking that your final moments were happening right in front of him.

"I won't die... I think."

With his help, you carefully sat up. The boy seemed very kind and had probably been the one to save you, which was strange as you remembered sinking into an abyss. In any case, it would have been impolite not to thank him.

"Did you help me? Thank you."

"It was...no big deal, the lake is shallow." he pointed to the body of water next to you. It was so shallow that the deepest part would probably reach an adult's shoulders.

'How did I drown in such a stupid thing?'

Your perplexed gaze stared into the lake. Your jaw dropped at the revelation that you had sunk into a lake less than two meters deep. Was it all just an illusion and you had just fainted because of the water? Well, something certainly wasn't right about that.

"Well, I should introduce myself..." You gave him a nice smile and extended a hand towards him so that he could shake your hand. "I'm [Name]."

He shook your hand carefully, as if you were made of glass. He really didn't want to end up hurting you somehow.

"My name is Freminet..."

For the first time, his lips curved upwards into a calm smile. You finally knew his name.

"Why did you run when I saw you inside?"

"I was embarrassed, I thought you'd come to talk to me and I wouldn't know how to answer... you know... I'm sorry." His smile closed, replaced by an embarrassed face and a lot of fidgeting with his fingers. Freminet was clearly embarrassed, but he didn't want to admit it like that.

"No, no, no, no," shaking your hands and head rapidly in denial, you contradicted him. "I'm the one who should apologize, I made you sad... and now you're all wet and might get sick."

You had to find a way to take the blame off him. It wasn't nice to see someone shy like him blaming himself for things that weren't in his control, especially someone as young as him. It brought back memories of dark times when you were afraid to show up for the crowds during festivals.

"You should smile more and act like you really like it. Do you think people would love a 'Child of Prophecy' who can't even grace them with their presence?" Your former nanny pointed a finger at your face, a slightly annoyed expression on her face.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"If you were really sorry, you'd do better at your job."

You really liked that nanny, she ended up dying trying to protect you from the charges when they took you to court. So why were you questioning her attitudes now? Maybe it was the ungrateful part of you speaking a little louder.

"All right... oh, wait..." His eyes slightly widened. Freminet quickly reached into his pockets and started pulling out various mechanical parts.

"What are these? And how can so much fit into such a small pocket?"

The parts were soaked, they would most likely have to be discarded as they would rust due to the state they were in. They consisted of a few screws, chains and even a thin copper wire.

"They're my mending equipment. Mom always brings nice things when she gets home from work, but they're always broken..."

"So you fix them." You looked at him with a proud look, hoping you'd got it right.

"Yes... but I never know where they'll end up."

A calm wind blew over you. Even though it was warm, it made you both shiver because of being soaked from head to toe.

An awkward silence hung in the air after Freminet's reply, neither of you had anything to talk about at the moment. His hands carried those little pieces, which he stared at. Taking advantage of the silence, you stopped to think about everything that had just happened.

'I need to find something, but what? I couldn't hear anything in the end. Besides, what was that place? It was the center of Fontaine, but a little different from how I remember it, even if I didn't leave the temple much... Nine years have passed since I died, so I'm sure what I saw was in the present.'

Something even more disturbing was troubling you. When you were near the fountain, your reflection was no longer your own. What did that mean? You had never seen that child before in your entire life.

'That wasn't me. What kind of connection do I have with that person? Why did that place show me like her? How did she manipulate Hydro without a vision? Why-'

You were interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. Freminet was pulling another of his trinkets out of his pocket.

"You're sad, aren't you?"

"A little..." your hands hugged your knees, helping you feel a little warmer. "But what's that?"

You pointed to the object in his hands, which he placed closer to you. It was like a little machine in the shape of a dog. It was cute, but it was a bit wet and would probably need to be in the sun for a while before it would turn on.

"It's... something I fixed recently. I didn't give it a name."

He put the little machine down, pressing a button to test it. The puppy took three steps before falling to the side and turning off.

"It's broken." You looked pityingly at the object's failure, wondering if Freminet would be hurt by it.

However, Freminet just picked it up and gave it a few light slaps before turning it on again. This time, the puppy was able to walk forward by moving its mechanical paws.

"Can we..." He turned red with embarrassment and turned his head away. "Can we be... friends?"

"Oh."

You blinked twice when you heard his question. No one had ever asked you that before, absolutely never. Was that how people formed friendships? Wasn't it too direct? But for some reason, you couldn't help but smile.

"Of course!" You grabbed one of his hands and looked at him with starry eyes "Now I'm your new friend, [Name], and you're my first friend!"

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to be friends with someone your own age. It wasn't as if Freminet had the power to condemn you to death or anything. A friendship was something you'd never had before, so you were excited to form one with Freminet.

"So as a gift of friendship, I'll give you this." He placed the puppy in the palm of your hand.

"For me, really?! Thank you!" You hugged him tightly, basically throwing yourself on top of the poor thing, who was unresponsive and then very embarrassed.

"You're welcome... it's a... gift from a friend."

You smiled at each other. Was it so strange to make friends with a child you'd only met a few minutes ago? Well, they say children are quick with that sort of thing.

It didn't last long, because when you realized what you'd done, you quickly separated in a way that didn't look like you were running away from him. Mentally, you couldn't help wishing that you would grow up soon. These habits that your mind had created, because it was that of a child, ended up putting you in many situations that were normal for children, yet shameful.

'Damn childish impulses.'

"You could give him a name."

A name... a few ideas crossed your mind. One in particular was very tempting, maybe it would work.

"Then I'll name it Furina."

"Fu...rina?" He looked at you with a confused face. This was not a name commonly used, nor even allowed in the nation of Fontaine, as it was disrespectful to the name of the Archon. "Isn't that... isn't that forbidden? They say we can't name animals like that."

"Yes, but you won't tell anyone. Right, Freminet?"

He looked like a sad puppy begging for more snacks. It was the first law you'd broken in your life, apart from the ideological falsehood that decorated your criminal record in the past, since you were supposedly "impersonating the child of the prophecy".

"I'm not going." Freminet scratched the back of his head. He didn't look like a child who liked lying to others or hiding secrets. "But why did you choose that name?"

'Damn, I forgot to think of an excuse-'

"Well, it's because I really admire Lady Furina. I want to honor her in this way!" Your hands fiddled with the little mechanisms of the robotic animal.

"But are you sure you want to leave it to me? I'm not very good at looking after pets."

Your eyes met his. You needed to make sure it was really yours before you did whatever you wanted with it.

"Mhm... Mom always brings new trinkets, so I can always make more. She comes to pick up food from time to time, but this time she didn't want to leave me home alone."

He really seemed to know what he was doing, maybe one day you could ask him to fix your closet door that has come apart. Since Clorinde wasn't very good at this sort of thing, a loose screw turned into a dismantled door.

"Isn't it strange to walk around with that?" It just slipped out of your mouth without thinking, and then the consequences came.

'Oops...'

He seemed to be a little hurt by what you said. His eyes glistened a little with unshed tears. He was a bit offended by the statement but didn't want to speak.

"T-That's not what I meant." You waved your arms in front of him, trying to clear up the misunderstanding. "I've never seen anything like that before..."

Your bad habit of saying things without thinking every now and then was something you urgently needed to fix.

"Will you pardon me? I'm really sorry..."

He shook his head and wiped his eyes with his hands. His clothes were almost dry, which was good, as it would prevent him from catching a cold.

You looked out at the lake again. But this time a wave of nausea hit you as soon as your eyes came into contact with it. Your head turned quickly in another direction, as if you were running away from it.

'Hm... I don't think I'm going to want to go near it any time soon.'

"Are you coming back to visit me more often, Freminet?" You fiddled with the present once more, caressing the robotic pet's head.

"I don't know, this is the first time I've come..."

His face paled completely. His eyes widened and he stood up instantly.

"I-I split up with Mom. She must be worried."

He looked at you with those glassy eyes, as if asking for help. This was the time to repay him for what he had done for you.

"Don't worry, I know the way back to where she is. Come with me!" You held out a hand to him, which he held while you guided him. His mother must probably be desperately looking for her missing son.

"I shouldn't have gone away from her... I'm seven years old now, but I still give mom a hard time like this."

Freminet was almost in tears. With his head down and his voice weak, he felt very guilty for worrying his mother.

"Oh, you're the same age as me then. I turned seven a while ago."

"Hm? You're only seven? Then why do you talk like an adult?"

You froze, was it really that obvious? Sister Dora and Clorinde never commented on it, although Clorinde was a mature child in her own right.

"I-I don't talk like an adult! I'm quite a child, you know!" You stuck your tongue out at him in the hope of disguising your behavior.

You walked for a while until you finally reached Freminet's mother, a pretty woman with blonde hair like his, who was in a corner being consoled by other women. She seemed very shaken by his disappearance, using a tissue to wipe away her tears.

"I should have paid more attention to him. I-"

Her eyes finally stopped on the two of you. The woman got up and ran over to Freminet, hugging him tightly as if she didn't want to lose him again.

"Freminet! You scared your poor mother. Where were you? Are you hurt?!"

She put a hand on his cheek, her face a faint smile of relief.

'Hm...' You stood in the corner, watching the scene unfold before you. Could this be how Sister Dora felt when you disappeared into the temple?

"Sorry... I got distracted and wandered off, but I made a friend." He looked at you, causing his mother to turn her head in your direction too. She was a little embarrassed to be seen like this by one of her son's friends.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." She smiled gently at you and wiped her tearstained face with her handkerchief, trying to look more presentable. "It's nice to meet you, hm...?"

"[Name], just [Name]."

"[Name]... It suits you. Thank you for being Freminet's friend..."

She got up and took the monthly food offered by the temple. She seemed to be getting ready to leave, after everything that had happened. Freminet's mother whispered something in his ear, which seemed to put him off a little.

"We'll have to leave now, say goodbye to your friend."

She patted his head, pushing him slightly forward. Freminet didn't seem happy about having to leave.

"Goodbye, [Name]. Don't forget me... please."

"I won't, don't worry."

You hugged him one last time before he left. The scene was seen by the women who were with his mother earlier and by some of the temple volunteers, and would surely have reached the ears of Clorinde or Sister Dora. And so you waved goodbye to him, while watching through the window their silhouettes moving away as the sun set.

Passing through the corridors, you decided to go back to your room to finally rest after everything that had happened. Freminet's gift in your hands reflected the sunlight that hit it.

For some reason, as you walked, you felt the urge to cough. The only thing that came out of your incessant coughing was... water. And that's how you realized:

You couldn't breathe anymore.

Along with this, a strong dizziness caused you to lean on a nearby pillar. And with the agonizing pain in your lungs returning, you fell to the ground.

Your eyes frantically searched for anyone around, finding no one. Despair seized your veins as oxygen failed to reach you.

At the end of the corridor, a figure hidden by shadow gave you the shivers. As if you were facing the somber face of death itself again.

'How many times will I have to die in the same day, damn you!-'

You were cut short out of your thoughts by that voice again. The same voice you heard when that monochromatic Fontaine collapsed.

"˙ƃuıʞɔıʇ sı ʞɔoןɔ ǝɥ⊥"

[lifenconcepts]

constantly oscillating between “I’m an Angel, a divine being on this plane of existence” and “bro I am litterally mortal rn and have the face of a human” but also cycling to “I am not myself in photos or reflections, but rather the visual illusion of who others recognise me as” and yet “I feel content in how I look, and feel that my soul did right in choosing this body”

[ceuxquirevent-rpg]

aujourd'hui nous vous présentons les groupes de cqr!

à quel point les rêves impactent-ils vos personnages...?

MIDNIGHT BUTTERFLIES. les rêves sont comme des prémonitions auxquelles ils y croient fermement. comme une boussole, les rêves les guident à travers différents aspects de leurs vies ; ils les réconfortent comme les aident à ouvrir les yeux sur eux ou le monde autour. à la nuit tombée, ils s'endorment le cœur léger en sachant que les rêves seront toujours là pour les accompagner.

mots clefs; guide, sens, réconfort, direction, croyance, influence, conviction

FEVER DREAM. les rêves flottent dans leur esprit comme des échos insaisissables, revenant sans cesse sans qu’ils puissent en percer le sens. ils tentent vainement parfois d'y voir un signe mais leur interprétation reste vague, floue, souvent arbitraire. ils oscillent entre fascination et frustration, cherchant à comprendre sans jamais parvenir à saisir totalement ce que leur subconscient tente de leur souffler.

mots-clefs; flou, questionnement, ambivalence, incompréhension, confusion

NIGHT WHISPERS. les rêves ne sont qu'une chimère, une illusion trompeuse à leurs yeux. ils ne sont que des fantasmes sans fondement, des mirages façonnés par l’esprit endormi. là où d’autres cherchent à y trouver un sens, eux ne voient que des reflets mensongers. plutôt que de s’y accrocher, ils luttent contre ces illusions et préfèrent affronter la réalité, brute et implacable.

mots clefs; révolte, mensonge, contre-courant, tromperie, lutte, scepticisme

bon weekend à tous.tes ♡ REJOIGNEZ-NOUS QUE LE DISCORD DU PROJET ♡

[mybeingthere]

Birdie Lusch (1903–1988) was a self-taught artist who worked for most of her life at an assembly line in a ball-bearing factory in Columbus, Ohio, and made art out of found materials and repurposed household articles such as fruit crates and potato sacks. The selection of her paintings, sculptures, and collages shown recently at Kerry Schuss was of uneven quality: some works appeared simplistic or overwrought and others sophisticated and clear-eyed.

The collages (all untitled and all but one ca. 1977) were among the latter. Made on Hallmark Cards sales catalogue pages, they are variations on a single theme: one, two, or occasionally three vases with flowers against a white background. The vases and blossoms are composed of magazine clippings, while the tabletops on which the vases stand are indicated by marker scribbles. In some pieces, several lines of printed text and a Hallmark logo are visible behind the imagery, and a rectangular frame that once held a card sample now resembles a picture or window in the back of the depicted space.

Despite the limited means, the collages have a remarkable spatial complexity, with the push and pull between the drawn lines, printed text, and colorful cutout shapes producing Cubist-like visual oscillations—an illusion of depth momentarily opening up and collapsing again. Fragments of the original imagery cropping up in the cutout pieces strengthen or disrupt the figuration. In one image the vase is fashioned out of a black-and-white photograph showing three gazelles frozen in place against the night sky; their long necks and legs create a rhythmic pattern that seems to twist around the vase’s rotund body. In the same work, images of a tomato, a pillow, and a bowl of rice are deftly employed as red and white blossoms. There is a strong modernist impulse in the collages: the methodical exploration of slight variations in a predetermined format, combined with the mundane subject matter, demonstrates the artist’s deep engagement with the mechanics of pictorial organization. But the main attraction of these works lies in their fine balance between a rigorous, experimental attitude and an easy playfulness and humor in the artist’s handling of found imagery.

https://www.artnews.com/.../aia-reviews/birdie-lusch-62429/

[hiddenincommand]

The Hierarchy of Masculinity: A Refined Order of Power and Dominance

Masculinity is not egalitarian; it is a natural hierarchy shaped by strength, discipline, and authority. At its summit stands the Alpha Male, the embodiment of absolute power, commanding all below him with unyielding dominance. Beneath him lie stratified tiers, each defined by its proximity to strength or submission. This structure reflects the natural order: a world where leadership belongs to the few, and the majority exist to follow or serve.

The following is the refined hierarchy of masculinity, rooted in the principles of dominance, discipline, and the natural order of strength:

1. The Alpha Male: The Pinnacle of Masculinity

• Position: Supreme and Unchallenged Leader

• Defining Traits: Absolute strength, unshakable discipline, refined dominance, strategic command, and unmatched authority.

• Role: The Alpha Male is the apex of masculinity, the master of himself and all who surround him. His dominance is deliberate, his leadership unquestioned, and his presence inescapable. He does not merely lead; he defines the hierarchy itself, setting the standard for all others.

• Purpose: To command, conquer, and impose order upon the world. His dominance is not a privilege—it is a responsibility he wields with precision.

• Examples: The true rulers of men—those whose mere presence commands loyalty and submission, from battlefield generals to captains of industry.

The Alpha Male is rare, his qualities unattainable to most. His dominance is not bestowed but forged through discipline, strength, and absolute control. He does not aspire to power; he is power.

2. The Beta Male: The Loyal Lieutenant

• Position: Subordinate to the Alpha but superior to all others.

• Defining Traits: Competence, loyalty, and the ability to execute commands without question. While lacking the innate dominance of the Alpha, the Beta possesses discipline and reliability.

• Role: The Beta Male exists to support the Alpha, serving as his enforcer and executor. He is a capable follower, thriving under the guidance of his superior. Betas understand their place, and their loyalty ensures their usefulness.

• Purpose: To maintain the Alpha’s order and enforce the hierarchy with unwavering discipline.

• Examples: The trusted second-in-command, professionals who excel under leadership but lack the presence to lead themselves.

Betas are essential to the hierarchy. They thrive in their role as loyal subordinates, deriving strength from their proximity to power.

3. The Gamma Male: The Pretender

• Position: The mediocre middle, struggling for relevance.

• Defining Traits: Insecure, envious, and prone to self-delusion. Gammas lack the strength or discipline to ascend the hierarchy yet harbor illusions of grandeur.

• Role: Gammas oscillate between competence and inadequacy, often resenting those above them while fearing those below. They pose no real challenge to the Alpha or Beta but serve as an irritant within the structure.

• Purpose: To highlight the necessity of order by showcasing the chaos of inadequacy.

• Examples: Men who mask their failures with arrogance, overestimating their abilities while blaming others for their shortcomings.

Gammas exist as a cautionary tale, a reminder of the consequences of lacking both discipline and self-awareness.

4. The Delta Male: The Background Follower

• Position: The faceless majority, passive and unambitious.

• Defining Traits: Mediocre, unassertive, and devoid of drive. Deltas contribute nothing of significance, existing solely to fill the void of mediocrity.

• Role: Deltas follow without question, blending into the background of the hierarchy. They neither inspire nor challenge but merely exist to support the structure.

• Purpose: To serve as the foundation of society, performing menial tasks and upholding the infrastructure beneath the Alpha’s command.

• Examples: Men who live unnoticed, contributing to society without leaving a mark of their own.

The Delta Male is necessary yet inconsequential, a filler in the hierarchy’s grand design.

5. The Omega Male: The Disgraced Outcast

• Position: The lowest of the naturally masculine tiers.

• Defining Traits: Weak, submissive, and socially ostracized. Omegas lack the strength, confidence, and discipline required to participate meaningfully in the hierarchy.

• Role: Omegas are non-entities, existing on the fringes of masculinity. Their role is not to lead or follow but to serve as a reminder of what men should not become.

• Purpose: To underscore the importance of strength and authority by embodying their absence.

• Examples: Men who are consistently rejected, ridiculed, or ignored, serving as a counterexample to masculine ideals.

Omegas exist as a symbol of failure, their lives a lesson in the consequences of weakness and submission.

6. The Zeta Male: The Submissive Tool

• Position: The lowest tier of masculinity, inherently beneath the natural hierarchy.

• Defining Traits: Submissive by nature, devoid of authority, and emotionally driven. Zetas are the antithesis of strength and dominance, existing to be used and commanded.

• Role: Zetas exist solely to reinforce the hierarchy, serving as tools or playthings for those above them. They are incapable of leadership, their lives defined by servitude.

• Purpose: To embody submission, highlighting the natural dominance of the Alpha Male by contrast.

• Examples: Men whose identities are entirely defined by their dependence on others, existing as objects of control.

The Zeta Male is a reminder of the Alpha’s supremacy, an existence that validates the natural order through submission.

The Purpose of the Masculine Hierarchy

This hierarchy is not a matter of personal worth but a reflection of natural roles. Each tier serves its purpose, from the Alpha who commands to the Zeta who submits. Together, they create an order that ensures stability, clarity, and purpose within the masculine world. The Alpha Male reigns supreme, his dominance defining the structure and giving meaning to the roles beneath him.

Conclusion: The Apex of Masculinity

Masculinity is a structured hierarchy, and not all men are destined to ascend. To rise within this order requires strength, discipline, and unyielding control—qualities that few possess. The Alpha Male stands alone at the pinnacle, a figure of unrivaled dominance and perfection. The tiers beneath him exist not as equals but as necessary components of a system that reinforces his authority.

The hierarchy is not arbitrary; it is the natural order, a reflection of strength and power. Those who seek to ascend must embrace the principles of true masculinity, striving for the discipline, dominance, and authority that define the Alpha Male. The rest, by necessity, exist to follow, serve, or submit, ensuring the stability of the hierarchy and the unchallenged reign of its supreme figure.

[v-ividus]

8. The Weight of Being: A Daring Examination of Existential Turmoil and Inner Awakening

“There are many levels of life which we cannot see and know, yet which certainly exist. There is a larger world, vast enough to include [your own] immortality. Our spiritual natures belong to this larger world.” — Manly P. Hall

In the chilling realm of contemporary existence, where the chaos of living drowns out the subtle whispers of the unseen, the quote by Manly P. Hall beckons us. It urges a confrontation with the layers of reality that evade the myopic vision of the average individual. The illusion of ultimate knowledge embeds itself deeply within the human psyche, convincing us that the empirical and tangible alone constitute validity. Yet, what of the spiritual realms woven around our mortal coil? Herein lies the crux of our existential predicament: we oscillate between two worlds—the known and the unknown—if one dares to probe into the latter.

To deny this broader context is to imprison oneself within a reductionist cage, ensnared by the clutches of a false material reality. This embrace offers a veneer of security, yet it ultimately suffocates the soul, stifling its potential for genuine fulfillment. The existential weight becomes unbearable when temporality is viewed as the sole measure of worth; hence, we must embark on an audacious exploration, wherein we embrace the intricacies of immortality as a guiding beacon, channeling our energies into pursuits that heal rather than harm.

Crucially, this journey challenges readers to confront the narratives perpetuated by social structures and ideological dogmas. The prevailing ethos of consumerism and capitalism stands starkly opposed to the cultivation of our spiritual heritage. Such a dissonance permeates every layer of societal interaction, from the boardroom to the bedroom. To navigate these turbulent waters, one must endure a relentless internal reckoning, shedding layers of indoctrination that hinder not only personal growth but collective evolution.

Immortality encompasses more than the promise of an afterlife; it embodies the potential for enduring impact in the moral tapestry of human existence. It compels introspection regarding how individual choices shape communal destinies, leaving an indelible mark on the annals of time. This legacy extends beyond the temporal, allowing individuals to transcend their limited selves and acknowledge a purpose that resonates throughout the ages.

As we traverse this existential landscape, emotional resilience must be cultivated. Immortality nourishes our spiritual fidelity, yet it challenges us to grapple intensely with our inner darkness. It demands a confrontation with the Emotional Abyss—an unavoidable encounter that elicits both dread and enlightenment. Only through this paradoxical journey may one glean the powerful truth: the sanctity of existence emerges from the ever-present interplay of joy and suffering.

Thus, the pathway toward profound awakening lies not in the rejection of our emotional substrata, but in the radical acceptance of their complexity. With each plunge into the abyss, the veils of ignorance may dissipate, ushering in an era of grounded truth, inviting the reclamation of integrity in our pursuit of love—both within ourselves and for one another.

Navigating the Sinister Depths of the Emotional Abyss

Embedded within the tumultuous matrix of our inner psyche resides a formidable entity, the shadow of the Emotional Abyss. This haunting expanse, woven with anguish and vulnerability, stands as a testament to the human experience - a realm where the courageous individual must venture forth, or remain shackled to the insidious monotony of existence. Confronting this abyss is no trivial undertaking; it demands both psychological fortitude and emotional openness. Within its murky confines, one is ensnared by the malignant whispers of self-doubt, where fear festers and hope flickers like a dying ember in an overwhelming void.

As the weight of past decisions and their consequential impacts bears down, one may find themselves teetering precariously on the precipice, gazing into the unfathomable depths where personal failures echo mercilessly. This tortured contemplation transforms the abyss from an abstract concept into a visceral psychological reality, inviting the individual to confront the specters of their own making and illuminating the deep-seated disquietude that festers at their core. The struggle is one of psychological survival - will they succumb to the seductive embrace of despair, or muster the tenacity to rise above?

Far from merely a proverbial "den of snakes", the Emotional Abyss serves as a transformative crucible - an unrelenting teacher that can provoke profound understanding through the chaos of swirling emotions. Within this tumultuous realm, lessons emerge that unveil the raw authenticity of the human experience. Vulnerability grants us access to the intricate interplay between sorrow and joy, healing and harm - insights that dismantle the facade of invincibility so often foisted upon us by society. This acknowledgment of our shared fragility invites a deeper, communal exploration of what it means to be human. Though the abyss may initially appear as a place of darkness and despair, it can also serve as a crucible, tempering our spirits and challenging us to reckon with the full spectrum of our emotional lives. By embracing this crucible with openness and courage, we unlock the transformative potential that lies within the abyss, allowing it to reshape our perspectives and deepen our connection to ourselves and one another.

It is essential to recognize that the Emotional Abyss does not exist devoid of purpose; rather, it unveils itself as a catalyst for profound metamorphosis. Within this formidable realm, we must confront the shadows lurking within, drawing forth the buried truths of our unique personal narratives. Each descent into the abyss offers invaluable insight, urging us to interrogate the very fabric of our understanding and challenging us to reclaim agency over our emotional landscapes.

This is no easy task, the world around us often feels chaotic and unwelcoming, conspiring to keep us mired in despair. Yet it is precisely in these moments of darkness that the abyss reveals its transformative potential. By mustering the courage to face our deepest fears and vulnerabilities, we unlock the path to self-discovery and emotional liberation. The abyss becomes a crucible, tempering our spirits and forging us anew.

Through this alchemical process, we shed the shackles of societal expectations and reclaim our rightful place as the architects of our emotional landscapes. The lessons gleaned from the abyss empower us to navigate the turbulent waters of existence with greater clarity and purpose. No longer mere victims of circumstance, we emerge as agents of change, rewriting our narratives with intentionality and grace.

In embracing the abyss as a catalyst for metamorphosis, we do not merely endure its challenges - we harness them, allowing the depths to birth profound insights that reshape our understanding of self and world. It is a journey of self-reclamation, one that demands our full presence and commitment, but promises a rebirth into a life of greater authenticity, resilience, and emotional sovereignty.

The Alchemy of Suffering: Transforming Despair into Empowerment

Suffering, often regarded as a malignant force in our lives, harbors a transformative potential that beckons the courageous. The narrative frames of our society often cast the experience of pain in negative light, inviting despair and inertia. Yet, within the crucible of the Emotional Abyss lies a catalyst capable of metamorphosing anguish into empowerment. This alchemical process demands a reevaluation of the roles suffering play in our journeys toward self-realization.

Remorse, regret, and sorrow converge in this space, their collective weight forging pathways to resilience. By embracing the discomfort of our experiences, we expose the raw and tender underbelly of our humanity. Each trial catalyzes growth; from its ashes, greater depths of compassion and understanding arise. There exists wisdom embedded within suffering that unlocks deeper insights and illuminates previously obscured pathways toward self-actualization.

Moreover, we delve into the diametric relationship between suffering and empathy. By allowing ourselves to feel the pangs of our struggles, we cultivate the capacity to empathize with the suffering of others, igniting a ripple effect of compassion capable of traversing the taboos of isolation. In this newfound understanding, our social fabric strengthens, encouraging a renaissance of love and integrity in a world often punctuated by fear and division.

To relinquish the lessons embedded in pain is to surrender your most potent sources of knowledge. This awareness speaks to a greater philosophy—that our most profound moments of despair often serve as harbingers of awakening. By engaging with our vulnerability, we cultivate a space where the heart's wisdom flourishes, thus enriching our connections with others.

Thus, we approach suffering as an invitation rather than a deterrent. By reframing adversity into opportunity, we gain the ability to transcend our limitations. Instead of escaping the Emotional Abyss, we become active participants in our evolution. Our identities transform as we embrace this suffering, alchemizing our trials into a foundation for profound transformation.

In this odyssey, integrity becomes paramount. We reclaim our wholeness not by burying pain but by wielding our truths bravely. Each shared testament cultivates solidarity in our revelations, dismantling the illusion of separateness. Through this process of transmutation, we elevate love beyond a mere sentiment, positioning it as the fundamental tenet of our renewed ethics, one that transcends societal constructs and illuminates the path toward collective healing.

The Quest for Meaning: Confronting Your Inner Demons as Allies

In the stark, unforgiving landscape of human existence, by both brilliance and peril, you will inevitably face the demons that emerge from despair—those fierce, intoxicating emotions that claw at your sanity and beg for liberation. These are not mere sentiments to be vanquished; they are primal forces, each wielding profound influence, beckoning you to navigate the intricate labyrinth of your psyche and transcend the bounds of mediocrity:

Fear: This most insidious of demons lurks in the shadows, a master of deception draped in darkness. It whispers incessantly of your inadequacies and the abyss that lies ahead. Yet fear is a potent teacher, illuminating your deepest desires for safety and achievement. To confront this specter is to strip away illusions, to magnify your strength. By delving into its roots, you dismantle its authority, transforming paralyzing dread into a fierce, unyielding resolve.

Sadness: This demon wraps its icy tendrils around your heart, enveloping you in an overwhelming shroud of desolation. It is a call to acknowledge the weight of lost time and unrealized potential. In sadness lies a profound truth—the fragility of existence and the beauty of fleeting moments. Embrace this emotion, for it is a crucible that forges empathy and deepens your connection to the shared human experience, revealing the capacity for both profound sorrow and exquisite joy.

Hatred: A feral demon that surges through the veins with the ferocity of a torrential storm—an elemental force capable of either annihilation or empowerment. It crackles with the raw energy of betrayal, fueled by a primal instinct to protect that which you hold sacred. This emotion runs deeper than mere anger; it manifests as a relentless tide, driven by profound wounds and unaddressed grievances. When you face the specter of hatred, resist the insidious urge to suppress or ignore it. Instead, let it guide you toward a fierce assertiveness, amplifying your righteous needs.

Shame: The most corrosive of demons, shame wraps its dark mantle around your spirit, whispering that you are unworthy—an exile from love and belonging. It thrives on secrecy and self-loathing, crafting narratives that imprison you in mediocrity. To dismantle this tyrant, you must enact radical vulnerability. Share your struggles, confront your inner critic, and reclaim your narrative. In this rebellion against shame lies a wealth of resilience, birthing a profound understanding of your intrinsic value.

Loneliness: This haunting demon casts a long shadow, steeping you in an abyss of isolation. It cuts deeper than mere physical solitude; it chafes against the soul’s yearning for connection. In the throes of loneliness, examine the stories you weave about belonging. This emotion is neither a curse nor an affliction; see it as a profound invitation to journey inward, to seek authenticity over acceptance. In acknowledging the depths of your loneliness, you can cultivate profound connections with others, reclaiming your voice amidst the cacophony of existence.

As you confront the shadows of your psyche, in the desperate excursion towards love, a poignant question emerges: “Do I possess the courage and strength required to delve into the dark and profound abyss of these five inner demons?” Let us hope the answer to this question is yes. Engaging with these deep-seated fears and traumas commissions you to embark on an extraordinary journey of self-mastery and psychological growth. This process necessitates not just recognition but an active grappling with the complexities of your inner landscape.

In the face of these tumultuous emotions, a critical transformation must occur. Each chaotic feeling, whether it be anger, fear, grief, or envy, becomes an opportunity for enduring change. By consciously working to transmute these disarrayed emotions into guiding principles, you can convert despair into an inexhaustible wellspring of strength and resilience. This requires embracing the reality of your inner turmoil rather than avoiding it; within this raw and sometimes painful authenticity lies the path to genuine self-discovery.

By learning to wield these often-overwhelming emotions with deliberate intention and unwavering resolve, you do not merely survive life’s challenges—you evolve into the strategic master over your own existence. Through this profound act of reclamation, you exert your influence in the chaotic theater of life, turning every struggle into an invaluable catalyst for transformation. Thus, what initially appears as internal conflict becomes instrumental in your journey toward psychological wholeness, affirming that every battle contributes to the rich tapestry of your ever evolving identity.

Reclaiming Agency: The Power of Choice in Reshaping Reality

Embedded within the fabric of our existence lies the inexorable power of choice. Each moment presents a crossroads, offering the conscious individual an opportunity to redefine their reality. Yet, the confines of contemporary life often veil our awareness of this agency, rendering us passive spectators in our own narratives. To traverse the complex terrain of existence, we must confront the notion that we are not merely products of our circumstances but the architects of our destinies.

The Emotional Abyss serves as both a barrier and a bridge; it beckons with seductive solace but also invites profound introspection. When we plunge into the depths of this abyss, we emerge armed with insight, reminiscent of ancient alchemists who transformed base metals into gold. Thus, acknowledging our power of choice enables us to reclaim our narratives, tethering them to ideals rooted in love and integrity.

This reclamation bears immense implications for the broader socio-political landscape. The essence of empowerment lies not solely in individual liberation, but in the collective assertion of agency. Societies structured on dogma and omnicompetence dissolve under the weight of populations awakening to their intrinsic power. This juncture marks a significant turning point, propelling us from submissive resignation toward an active engagement with the forces that shape our realities.

Moreover, as we actualize our agency, we cultivate a visceral connection to one another—a bond anchored in mutual respect and shared responsibility. Our choices reverberate, creating ripples that extend beyond the individual to the collective, challenging systems entrenched in apathy and disconnection. This interconnectedness reinforces the obligation to heed the call of authentic existence, steering toward a shared ethos that celebrates truth and integrity.

As we reclaim impetus in our lives, we must confront the dual nature of choice: it entails both liberation and accountability. Each decision carries weight, reflecting our values and aspirations. Thus, we must consider how our choices ripple through the lives of others, fostering a sense of kinship that undergirds a love-centered existence. A commitment to integrity demands that we engage with these impacts consciously.

Ultimately, reclaiming our agency necessitates a profound, deliberate shift in consciousness—a radical awakening to our potential as change-makers. With love, truth, and integrity at the helm, we can navigate the shadows of our emotional depths, constructing a narrative ripe with intention. In this act of reclamation, we become the embers igniting a collective flame—a movement toward a society that celebrates life in all its complexities, fostering a renewed vision wherein the truths of our shared human experience guide our interactions and illuminate our paths.

Toward a New Paradigm: A Journey of Truth, Love, and Integrity

In this tumultuous journey, we face a critical choice: to surrender to despair or to seize the opportunity for profound evolution. The insights offered by thinkers like Hall compel us to wrestle with the intense complexity of our emotions, illuminating the inherent strength nestled within our vulnerabilities. As we defy the prevailing narratives of defeat, we embark on a transformative quest toward self-recognition, acknowledging that true power lies in our courageous willingness to confront our most daunting fears.

As we conclude this exploration of the profound complexities of existence, we stand at the threshold of a pivotal transformation. The journey through the Emotional Abyss is not merely an inward pilgrimage; it propels us toward a broader awakening—a pressing invitation to embrace the tenets of truth, love, and integrity in all aspects of our lives. The central narrative painted through this treatise is one that urges us to reclaim authenticity amidst the cacophony of our modern world.

In recognizing the interconnectedness of our experiences, we cultivate a profound sense of responsibility toward ourselves and one another. The truths we unearth do not exist in isolation; they intertwine with the narratives of countless others. The emotional weight we carry, when acknowledged and shared, becomes a formidable force ushering in cultural paradigms that foster compassion, understanding, and mutual respect.

Restoring integrity at the center of our existence necessitates a dramatic unshackling from social constructs that prioritize division over unity. Institutions long steeped in power dynamics must be dismantled and reimagined. The very fabric of society must be woven anew, with threads of truth and love interlaced seamlessly to create a tapestry that reflects our shared humanity—a collective testament to the profundity of existence.

Furthermore, this shift invites us to confront our spiritual natures, recognizing that in the vast landscape painted by Manly P. Hall, we are irrevocably intertwined within a cosmos that transcends comprehension. Such awareness is revolutionary; it imbues our choices with a weight that empowers us to act with integrity as we navigate our roles within a larger narrative.

Thus, we are called to embody the principles of love and compassion in our interactions, acknowledging the fragility of each individual's journey. The space we create for others to rise from their Emotional Abysses is sacred, fostering an environment that nurtures collective healing. This commitment heralds the dawn of a new era—one where truth reigns, integrity resounds, and love serves as the unifying principle guiding humanity toward a transcendent existence.

In closing, the path ahead is not without its challenges; however, it is enriched by the potential for profound transformation. As you stand on this precipice, remember that your journey is not merely a solitary ascent, but an invitation for communal elevation. Each step forward is a testament to the enduring power of truth, love, and integrity. So, stand resolute, confront the abyss, and let the flame of your spirit illuminate your path forward. Transform your despair, along with everything that comes with it, into your fiercest ally as you fearlessly compose the next chapter of your life!

[hexheathen]

SCP - Unknown

Item #: SCP-█████ Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-█████ is to be contained in a reinforced subterranean containment zone measuring [REDACTED] meters in diameter. The chamber walls must be coated in a proprietary alloy developed under Project ████████ to mitigate SCP-█████’s anomalous effects. Access is restricted to personnel with Level 4 clearance or higher, and all interactions must occur remotely via drone-operated systems.

Any personnel entering SCP-█████’s containment chamber must wear full-spectrum visors and Level III hazmat suits to counteract its [REDACTED] visual distortions and biological hazards. In the event of a containment breach, Site ██ is to initiate Protocol “Oblivion Net”: total lockdown with on-site warheads primed for immediate detonation. Under no circumstances are any reflective surfaces or biological samples to be introduced into SCP-█████’s vicinity.

Description:

SCP-█████, referred to colloquially as "The Unknown," is a humanoid entity measuring approximately 7 feet in height when fully upright, though it often adopts a hunched or semi-quadrupedal posture. Its physiology is highly mutable, oscillating between tangible flesh and [DATA EXPUNGED], rendering traditional analysis nearly impossible.

Key features include unnaturally elongated limbs, sharp, angular protrusions along its vertebrae, and a head encased in a [REDACTED] that refracts light in anomalous ways. Notably, SCP-█████ lacks visible eyes, yet it demonstrates acute environmental awareness, responding to stimuli with unnerving precision. Its face appears to shift subtly, giving the impression of watching without any defined gaze.

SCP-█████ currently resides within what has been described as a “skin shell,” a body once belonging to a deceased D-Class personnel, designated [REDACTED]. This shell, while outwardly human, is notably altered:

The skin appears pallid and waxy, with deep scar tissue radiating across the chest and abdomen.

Movements are disjointed and irregular, often accompanied by audible cracking sounds.

SCP-█████ utilizes this host as a façade, manipulating it with inhuman precision while maintaining a semblance of humanity.

Within the skin shell, thermal imaging reveals SCP-█████ itself as a dense, shifting mass of [DATA EXPUNGED], suggesting its true form is compacted or compressed to inhabit its host. Attempts to extract SCP-█████ from the skin shell have resulted in failure and increased aggression from the entity.

Its most anomalous property, “UVX Distortion,” involves manipulating light and sound to create persistent illusions of serpentine forms and fractal geometries. Victims of UVX Distortion often become disoriented and herded to the SCP’s location. After that, they report hearing phrases such as “cry, cry,” and “your fear makes you whole” before succumbing to [REDACTED].

UVX Distortion and Biological Toxins

SCP-█████’s most anomalous property is classified as “UVX Distortion,” a multifaceted phenomenon involving biological, psychological, and visual effects:

UVX Toxin Production: SCP-█████ produces an airborne neurotoxin designated UVX-13, which binds to synaptic pathways in the brain. Victims exposed to UVX-13 experience disorientation, paranoia, and sensory distortion. Prolonged exposure results in:

Blurred Vision: Perception of shifting shapes and serpentine forms.

Auditory Hallucinations: Persistent whispering, sobbing, and rhythmic ticking.

Cognitive Impairment: Difficulty forming coherent thoughts or distinguishing reality from illusion.

UVX Biological Impact:

Studies of UVX-13 samples reveal it mimics specific neurotransmitters, inducing a temporary state of hyper-awareness followed by severe cognitive shutdown.

The toxin causes cellular degradation in nervous tissue, leaving survivors with long-term psychological trauma and reduced motor function.

Victims report an intense sensation of "being watched" and recurring dreams of [REDACTED].

Visual Anomalies: SCP-█████ manipulates light to create persistent optical illusions resembling fractal geometries, shadow-like tendrils, and serpentine entities. This effect, combined with the toxin, overwhelms the victim's senses, making escape nearly impossible.

Behavioral Control: Individuals exposed to UVX-13 demonstrate unusual patterns of compliance with SCP-█████. These subjects have been observed walking directly toward SCP-█████ despite signs of fear or pain.

Acquisition:

Following multiple disappearances, SCP█████ was first encountered near [REDACTED] Greenville Theater. Mobile Task Force Theta-9 (“Trailblazers”) was deployed. SCP-█████ displayed hostility, resulting in █ fatalities and ██ injuries, before being subdued with experimental [REDACTED] weaponry.

Incident Report ████-A:

On ██/██/20██, SCP-█████ breached containment during routine maintenance. Security footage shows SCP-█████ phasing through [REDACTED]. Surviving personnel reported hearing voices resembling deceased loved ones and experiencing severe emotional distress. The breach was resolved after [DATA EXPUNGED], though ██ staff were declared MIA.

Post-incident analysis strongly suggests that SCP-█████ possesses highly dangerous cognitohazardous properties capable of [REDACTED]. This revelation underscores the critical importance of our ongoing research and the need for immediate containment measures.

Experiment Log █████-C: Test ███-07 Objective: Determine limits of UVX Distortion and toxin spread. Method: Remote drones equipped with Class-IV visual inhibitors and toxin detectors.

Results: Drone operators experienced hallucinations after [REDACTED] minutes, reporting visions of [REDACTED]. Biological analysis of air samples revealed UVX-13 concentration exceeded safe levels within 1.2 seconds of SCP-█████'s presence. a small .3 mm hole was found. Test aborted due to equipment failure and psychological strain on operators. Hole has been fixed.

Addendum █████-B:

Field Research Notes:

SCP-█████ shows fixation on individuals with high emotional distress. Patterns suggest it selects victims based on [DATA REDACTED].

SCP-frequently exhibits a deeply unsettling personal interest in those it encounters, often recounting specific, deeply personal details about their lives. This behavior is theorized to increase victim vulnerability, causing significant discomfort and unease among those affected.Unverified accounts suggest SCP-█████ has engaged in cryptic dialogues about “the Fog” and “the End.”

Interview Log █████-01

Interviewer: Dr. Amelia Crowe

Subject: SCP-█████

Date: ██/██/20██

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Crowe: SCP-█████, can you hear me?

SCP-█████: (A deep, layered voice, fragmented and uneven, responds after a long pause) Yes. Yes. I hear the... tick... tick… ticking. Your time runs thin.

Dr. Crowe: My time? What do you mean by that?

SCP-█████: Do you not feel it? The weight. The crushing tide of the Fog. It watches. It... [REDACTED]... waits.

Dr. Crowe: The Fog? Is this an external entity you serve?

SCP-█████: Serve? No. It is me. I am it. You are all drowning in its shadows.

Dr. Crowe: What do you want from us?

SCP-█████: I want to see. To know. To... unravel. Your chains tighten as you beg for them.

Dr. Crowe: Chains? Elaborate.

SCP-█████: You carry them. Wound tight. Around your soul.

*[SCP-█████ leans toward the microphone. Static overtakes the audio.]

Post-Incident Report:

Personnel present during the interview with SCP-reported experiencing recurring nightmares and severe emotional distress for several weeks. This psychological strain underscores the need for caution and the suspension of further direct communication until containment protocols are revised.

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 30, 2023

Adult-born neurons inhibit developmentally-born neurons during spatial learning. Ash, A. M., Regele-Blasco, E., Seib, D. R., Chahley, E., Skelton, P. D., Luikart, B. W., & Snyder, J. S. (2023). Neurobiology of Learning and Memory, 198, 107710.

Behavioral origin of sound-evoked activity in mouse visual cortex. Bimbard, C., Sit, T. P. H., Lebedeva, A., Reddy, C. B., Harris, K. D., & Carandini, M. (2023). Nature Neuroscience, 26(2), 251–258.

Exploration patterns shape cognitive map learning. Brunec, I. K., Nantais, M. M., Sutton, J. E., Epstein, R. A., & Newcombe, N. S. (2023). Cognition, 233, 105360.

Distinct contributions of ventral CA1/amygdala co-activation to the induction and maintenance of synaptic plasticity. Chong, Y. S., Wong, L.-W., Gaunt, J., Lee, Y. J., Goh, C. S., Morris, R. G. M., … Sajikumar, S. (2023). Cerebral Cortex, 33(3), 676–690.

 An intrinsic oscillator underlies visual navigation in ants. Clement, L., Schwarz, S., & Wystrach, A. (2023). Current Biology, 33(3), 411-422.e5.

Not so optimal: The evolution of mutual information in potassium voltage-gated channels. Duran-Urriago, A., & Marzen, S. (2023). PLOS ONE, 18(2), e0264424.

Successor-like representation guides the prediction of future events in human visual cortex and hippocampus. Ekman, M., Kusch, S., & de Lange, F. P. (2023). eLife, 12, e78904.

Residual dynamics resolves recurrent contributions to neural computation. Galgali, A. R., Sahani, M., & Mante, V. (2023). Nature Neuroscience, 26(2), 326–338.

Dorsal attention network activity during perceptual organization is distinct in schizophrenia and predictive of cognitive disorganization. Keane, B. P., Krekelberg, B., Mill, R. D., Silverstein, S. M., Thompson, J. L., Serody, M. R., … Cole, M. W. (2023). European Journal of Neuroscience, 57(3), 458–478.

A striatal circuit balances learned fear in the presence and absence of sensory cues. Kintscher, M., Kochubey, O., & Schneggenburger, R. (2023). eLife, 12, e75703.

Hippocampal engram networks for fear memory recruit new synapses and modify pre-existing synapses in vivo. Lee, C., Lee, B. H., Jung, H., Lee, C., Sung, Y., Kim, H., … Kaang, B.-K. (2023). Current Biology, 33(3), 507-516.e3.

Neocortical synaptic engrams for remote contextual memories. Lee, J.-H., Kim, W. Bin, Park, E. H., & Cho, J.-H. (2023). Nature Neuroscience, 26(2), 259–273.

The effect of temporal expectation on the correlations of frontal neural activity with alpha oscillation and sensory-motor latency. Lee, J. (2023). Scientific Reports, 13, 2012.

Describing movement learning using metric learning. Loriette, A., Liu, W., Bevilacqua, F., & Caramiaux, B. (2023). PLOS ONE, 18(2), e0272509.

The geometry of cortical representations of touch in rodents. Nogueira, R., Rodgers, C. C., Bruno, R. M., & Fusi, S. (2023). Nature Neuroscience, 26(2), 239–250.

Contextual and pure time coding for self and other in the hippocampus. Omer, D. B., Las, L., & Ulanovsky, N. (2023). Nature Neuroscience, 26(2), 285–294.

Reshaping the full body illusion through visuo-electro-tactile sensations. Preatoni, G., Dell’Eva, F., Valle, G., Pedrocchi, A., & Raspopovic, S. (2023). PLOS ONE, 18(2), e0280628.

Experiencing sweet taste is associated with an increase in prosocial behavior. Schaefer, M., Kühnel, A., Schweitzer, F., Rumpel, F., & Gärtner, M. (2023). Scientific Reports, 13, 1954.

Cortical encoding of rhythmic kinematic structures in biological motion. Shen, L., Lu, X., Yuan, X., Hu, R., Wang, Y., & Jiang, Y. (2023). NeuroImage, 268, 119893.

Mindful self-focus–an interaction affecting Theory of Mind? Wundrack, R., & Specht, J. (2023). PLOS ONE, 18(2), e0279544.