Profor Tempus
@watchingAuthor
Writer - Enjoys - stories - Biology - fan - Muscian >
for you, .i'll get .a flower, plant .i somewhere nice .and let .ut grow. let .it spread the seeds .and turn .our ground .into .a garden. .i'll share .it with you, .as you share your love for me. .and .if the storm .arises, .i'll .invite you, to cover you from rain. .i won't let you drain .in tears .of nature .and tears .of your .own. you may cry .on my shoulder .and .i'll pet you .in return. to share the pain you .are holding .in. @watchingauthor #matespritmonday
ah - ... >
Nyrita rubs her eyes with the heel of her palm, looking at the notes she’s spread out over the table. Tables. And onto the floor. And pinned up to the wall. There was just so god damn much information. Once Nyrita managed to decode signals and translate static, she was drowning in data, data, data. Recurring threads of numbers, snatches of songs, poems, lists and stories and reports and on, and on, and on. Repeated over and over, and now she has them all spread out here. It took a long time cataloguing everything, wringing the Land of Static and Secrets of everything it has to say. But now she has it. Now. What next. Nyrita picks up a list of numbers. Was it all useless? That’s what the quest was, wasn’t it? Find the information in data. Analyze it all. But she’s got a sinking suspicion that she wasted her time gathering all this, and she doesn’t have time to waste. She reads the number again. Up and down. Up and down. Up and… there’s a number missing. The pattern rises and falls, but it skips one. A hole in the information. She snatches up a poem. Tum te tum te tum, rhythm and meter and prose and metaphor and /there/. A caesura. Another emptiness where there should be something! Galvanized by the clues, Nyrita tears into all the other information. There, gaps where there should be data. Nothing where there should be something. She grabs a notebook and starts scribbling furiously until she’s categorized every missing piece in the data. She speaks the words, and puts will into it, and everything goes dark. The sky turns off, the towers go silent, the world turns off. Nyrita takes a step outside, and starts to walk. As she walks, she gazes up at the dark sky. Without the light blinding her, she can almost read the signals that were once shooting through the air. Lines tracing lives of dead games, failed sessions, successful ones that no one cared about. Lives that slipped into darkness, like all of them do. Like hers will. The water laps at her shoes. Then her knees. Then her chest. And then the dark ocean closes over her head, swallowing her without a sound. Inhale. Exhale. It’s fine. This is more than just water, now, and besides, she’s still a god. Drowning is beneath her. What does she see, now that she can’t see anything? The lair of Oneteotl. And in it? A life that has slipped into darkness, as all have, and will have done. She reaches down to the curled up form. She raises her head, and looks into her eyes. Into the eyes of everything, woven into it. And then everything goes white.
She did it.. - yay.. >
Did I start soomefin??? I was expressing my appreciatioon foor Aradym and it snoowballed intoo embarrassing the poooor guy! NOOT my intentioon! >n<
hes - fun to tease - ... >
What do we. think, this a good. costume for the season?
Oh - I think so >
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- fȺ☪︎♱ (nΩ♱ Ⱥ fun Ωn-∊): My quƗr|⟨ ƗΣn♱ juΣ♱ ♱-∊x♱ bȺΣ-∊d bu♱ ȺudƗbl-∊ ȺΣ 屮-∊ll. Ɨ 屮Ɨll b-∊ ΣΩ fΩr r-∊Ⱥl Ɨ 屮Ω|⟨-∊ up frΩm my ȺΣ☪︎-∊nΣƗΩn ΣΩundƗng ȺΣ Ɨf Ɨ 屮ȺΣ Σp-∊Ⱥ|⟨Ɨng Ɨn ♱ⴵ-∊ gu♱♱-∊rȺl nΩƗΣ-∊Σ ⴵΩrrΩr-♱-∊rrΩrΣ mȺ|⟨-∊ Ⱥnd nΩ Ωn-∊ ☪︎Ωuld und-∊rΣ♱Ⱥnd 屮ⴵȺ♱-∊v-∊r ♱ⴵ-∊ fu☪︎|⟨ Ɨ 屮ȺΣ ΣȺyƗng fΩr Σ-∊v-∊rȺl ⴵΩurΣ. Ɨ ⴵȺd ♱Ω fƗgur-∊ Ωu♱ ⴵΩ屮 ♱Ω flƗp ♱ⴵ-∊ 'Σ屮Ɨ♱☪︎ⴵ' b-∊♱屮-∊-∊n ♱Ⱥl|⟨Ɨng lƗ|⟨-∊ ♱ⴵȺ♱ Ⱥnd Ⱥ☪︎♱uȺlly b-∊Ɨng und-∊rΣ♱ȺndȺbl-∊ ȺudƗbly. funnƗly -∊nΩugⴵ my Ⱥ☪︎☪︎Ωun♱ Ɨn ♱ⴵ-∊ Σ-∊ΣΣƗΩn m-∊mΩ Ⱥ☪︎♱Ɨv-∊ly gΩ♱ updȺ♱-∊d 屮Ɨ♱ⴵ ♱ⴵƗΣ quƗr|⟨ 屮Ɨ♱ⴵΩu♱ my Ω屮n Ɨnpu♱ Ωr vΩlƗ♱ƗΩn. -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
... - could I hear >
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- 屮-∊'ll Σ-∊-∊ Ɨf 屮-∊ m-∊-∊♱ Ɨn p-∊rΣΩn, Ωr Ɨ ☪︎Ωuld ♱ry Ⱥnd Σ-∊nd Ⱥ ȺudƗΩ. -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
BOTH WORK - both work - haha.. >
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- ΣΩm-∊Ωn-∊'Σ gΩ♱♱Ⱥ bl-∊ΣΣ ♱ⴵ-∊ f-∊-∊d 屮Ɨ♱ⴵ ♱ⴵ-∊ fΩΩ♱Ⱥg-∊ frΩm ♱ⴵȺ♱ mΩm-∊n♱ ♱ⴵȺ♱ 屮ȺΣ /ΣublƗm-∊/ #fƗgⴵ♱nƗgⴵ♱ -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
I want ti shake you.. what happened?! Was it grrwT? Was it?
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- Ɨ♱ 屮ȺΣ /pⴵ-∊nΩm-∊nȺl/ -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
DAMMIT
#aspe(ttalk 3/12: doom i owe ever7 doom pla7er an apolog7. this su(ks. this su(ks so goddamn mu(h. ever7 thought is leaden with hopelessness. m7 bod7 feels so heav7. i’m so tired. i thought life pla7ers were the mightiest. and the7 are, ph7si(all7, what with life being the aspe(t of health and power and strength. but doom pla7ers have the opposite of that. their aspe(t is a fu(king albatross around their ne(ks. and still the7 (ontinue. still the7 thrive, even! the7’re the strongest of us all. and now i have to be that, too. one step at a time. one da7 at a time. i’ve (ome this far. 7ou’ve (ome this far. 7ou (an take another step. and so (an i.
It's- it's.. not - that bad - Don't worry.. - There there >
Yo i know its. like. wicked late BUT. I'm holding a birthday. party (birthday not. wriggling day, for alliteration) this. saturday, it'll be. rad i've got a shit ton. of gnarly jams to. kick it to, plus. a raffle for prizes. Be there or. be square. And it's not. in fact. hip. to be square
I'll.. - have to go to it >
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- 屮-∊ll. Ɨn Ω♱ⴵ-∊r r-∊gȺrdΣ Ɨn ♱-∊rmΣ Ωf mΩr-∊ nΩrmȺl d-∊v-∊lΩpm-∊n♱Σ. B-∊Ⱥrd. Ɨ Σ♱Ɨll ♱ⴵƗn|⟨ Ɨ lΩΩ|⟨ r-∊Ⱥlly gȺudy 屮Ɨ♱ⴵ Ⱥ b-∊Ⱥrd Ωn my fȺ☪︎-∊, Ɨ'v-∊ b-∊-∊n ☪︎l-∊Ⱥn ΣⴵȺv-∊n my 屮ⴵΩl-∊ lƗf-∊. bu♱ ⴵ-∊y, ☪︎ⴵȺng-∊ ƗΣn'♱ Ⱥl屮ȺyΣ Ⱥ bȺd ♱ⴵƗng. ⴵ♱♱pΣ://☪︎dn.Ɨmg☪︎ⴵ-∊Σ♱.☪︎Ωm/fƗl-∊Σ/34f53-∊☪︎Ⱥ4f35.png -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
..I might cry - something looks off - have you always looked like that.. - ;>>
If i had to describe the grub who became someone like I; I think that she would be sorry for me. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth for how sorry she would be. Her eyes young and full of hope as she looked up at me. Ask if we had manage to do all of the things that we set out to do. Had we manage to become a famous writer and singer. When we turn heads in the streets and instead of what is she doing- We turn heads as we are someone not to be pitied or feared, but looked at with admiration towards us. The girl like her should have had many friends. She should have ran around without a care. She shouldn't look towards the stars and see them as a omen for all those she loved. She should have never even opened her heart so wide as she knew that it would hurt her but she did it anyway. The sweeps that followed only led to her closing off as things got worse and worse until it all snapped. I mourn the girl who wasn't like this. Her eyes clear and sharp to the world around her but stubbornly wished that if she was said to have all of this power that she could change it all and everyone had to listen to her. I mourn the girl whose hair curled loosely around her face as she grinned with all of her teeth. I wish that I could hold her as she denied truths to try to be as happy as she could be and tell her that it wasn't her fault. The girl would pity me for how scars left reminded of how I believed I needed to punish myself. She would pity how tired I look. She would pity the way that curls became with tangled. She would stare at every part and ask what happened. How did someone so pathetic become into existence. When did binds like this come to be about. I mourn the girl whose eyes will become dull and worn. How the light from her eyes will disappear. How she will become myself. What a poor fate for such a child... #writing #self-reflection #cw-self-harm
^^i think she Would still be happY^^ ^^because the time it took to go from bring her to being You Would seem like an eternitY to her^^ ^^and Yet You're still Young!^^ ^^she still has so manY eternities to achieVe Your dream^^ ^^i'm sure You'll get there one night!^^
.. maybe one night
Maybe.. - maybe this is a bit - too much - maybe I did too much - ... - haha.. - ... - I should write.. - something - easier - later - - again > [ There was a photo of a branching diagram composed of multiple papers hazardously put together. You couldn't write much of it. More of scribbling than actual words at this point. There also seemed to be trying to even chart the timeline. Small marks everywhere. Ink spills. Blackend fingertips and sleeves stained by something? Or some things ]
.ohh no..
Its- its just tracking >
☆ > Is this relateable ☆ > The sheer irritation at seaing other fuchsia te✖t
I - heard - it's normal - with fuschias >
[BEGIN MESSAGE] [PASCAL] SYSTEM: dream] [p|ay? y] [y0u are dr0wning. tthiz iz re|ative|y n0rma| f0r y0u and tthe rezignati0n creepz up. tthere iz n0 fear, n0t anym0re. y0u begin tthe |0ng and z|0w pr0cezz 0f padd|ing tt0wardz tthe zurface in tthe kn0w|edge y0u w0n'tt make it. y0ur |imbz are heavy and y0ur |ungz burn and it iz z0 dark. y0u reach tt0wardz tthe zurface in a fina| h0pe tthat y0u kn0w wi|| n0t c0me tt0 pazz. tthiz ttime, a hand reachez back. y0u are pu||ed upwardz tt0wardz tthe |ight. y0u d0 n0t kn0w wh0 tthe hand be|0ngz tt0, but y0u are pu||ed 0ut 0f tthe water. y0ur |0ved 0nez zurr0und y0u and tthe water iz g0ne. y0u are zurr0unded by warmth and |0ve and |ight. [END MESSAGE]
Im.. glad. I might cry
i feel like a smear
Has - it been treating you harsher than - normal? >
okay like actually if i sometime host an emo night would that be interesting??? like would that be a party-able event???
someone - would probably - like that >
comment a random number from 1 to 1194 and i'll give you a song from my music playlist #musicposting
207
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘: @watchingauthor " I Remember When We First Met; You Had Knocked Me Onto My Back And Brandished A Stick At Me. Talking About How Trolls Outside Of Jades Weren't Allowed In The Brooding Caverns. I Can't Remember The Rest Of It Besides Downset Eyes That Glared Into Me Like I Was Nothing But To Be Culled Below His Shoe. The Caverns Were Dark And Felt Cold To A Young Troll Who Hadn't Learned Her Way Around. I Remember When You Stuck Out Your Hand And Held It As You Let Me Out. I Remember Vaguely In Blurry Sets How You Started To Let Me Come Around And You Stsrted To Hang Outside With Me. A Male Jade Had Always Been Rare But Not Impossible. I Thought You Were Like A Myth When I First Met You. I Remember When You Started To Be A Girl. My Myth Was Amazing Like That Were The Only Thoughts Running Through My Thinkpan. I Remember How I Always Made The Trip Despite My Attacks To See You. I Remember When You Tried To Cut My Hair As It Was Beyond Saving And How You Never Did Again. I Remember When You Got Your First Love You Said. Love Was Like An All Consuming Blaze You Said. That Was The First Time I Had Ever Wanted To Love When I Saw You Glow Like The Sun. I Remember How You Never Kicked Me Out When I Came Over To Stay. If You Were The Sun, Then I Would Be A Moon In Your Orbit. You Were One Of The Few Trolls That I Spoke To. Alone In The World Was To Be My Calling And I Refused If Only Temporarily.. Knowing One's Fate Means At Least That I Never Have To See You Die Before Me. " you Scrap Out The Note Rather Quick And Try To Forget It. It Sounded Too Heartfelt When You Said It. You Lay In Your Mom's Embrace And Your Burden. You Had Other Friends You Had To Address Before Your Inevitable Death.. You'll Try Again. You Hadn't Seen Her In Person For A While But The Eyes Felt Like Barbs Cutting Into Your Skin. You Like Your Online Friends And You Feel That You Should Leave Something For Them. You Push It Off Yet Again As Another Attack Finds You Shaking And Wishing You Could Cry Yet Again. You Never Suffocate, But You Feel Ill. Why Do You Even Fear Death When You Know It's Likely To Happen... You're An Coward Is Your Conclusion. You Still Have A Few Sweeps Left. It'll Be Fine. #mental-health #death #cw-panic-attacks #existentialdread you Won't Be. 𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗 ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀
I - know >
#beeposting 🐝 #se(urit7fail
hehe >