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I am an object, everyone knows me but, then again, they don't(rant/blog :3)
intro
Ever since I fell into this rabbit-hole of undiscovered, strange songs after listening to "Everyone knows that", ive been thinking; why do i feel so intensely connected to this song?
Incase you dont know, "Everyone knows that" is a snippet of a strange song found on the internet with mysterious origins.
It sounds like any other vintage, vaporwave-esque song with catchy lyrics and beats, but what makes it special is that no one knows about it. no one knows about its origin.
The best part of the song is IT FEELS FAMILIAR. I feel like I have a distant connection with this, but I don't get it at the same time. It feels as if I'm searching for a memory which is lost forever.
I've heard this somewhere, but I don't know where. I don't know if there exists a memory of me listening to this song, or if it's just unreal. it doesn't feel unreal.
This song shall remain forever forgotten whilst still remaining in our hearts.
what is my point exactly?
Well, my point is, I just feel like this is me.
Recently, I felt very...isolated. with time, I've been getting a lot of followers and a lot of friends. yet, it still feels like pure isolation; I feel distant from everyone and the abundance of people, noises, comments, and interactions makes me feel like I'm lacking something huge in the midst of it.
All I feel is ALONE.
I am in a crowded city
lights and people surrounding me
but it doesn't matter for amidst all the noise
only silence from within prevails.
It feels as if I am on a stage, being constantly interacted with and judged on. But, for some reason, I cannot break the fourth wall.
The fourth wall
The fourth wall is a veil
Within this obscure wall from which I am separated from the world, I feel a huge sense of...anger?
I feel disgusted. People talk to me in hopes of flimsy casual talk or in hopes of playing with my feelings. I feel objectified, at the very least.
Within this stage I have created for myself- I feel pure disgust. I feel lethargic upon seeing people waste their time trying to have the most mundane slither of a conversation with me. IT'S PATHETIC. IT IS DISGUSTING AND I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE IT.
However, I feel drained. I feel drained from replying to the same mundane, depressing texts of "wyd" and "hey" over and over again for the billionth time. I'm done saying "I have a boyfriend" for the trillionth time. I feel bad replying to the dishonest compliments, the boring conversations, the massive pages of the same repetitive content and consuming it in everlasting lethargic spirits.
I am only an object in their eyes
quitting instagram(?)
Oftentimes, I feel like I should quit Instagram. The platform that has once given me a sort of outlet now feels like a burden.
It is now merely a honeycomb luring in creeps, pedophiles, and assholes. And with each day, it fills me in with more and more dread. I feel sick, honestly.
Well, thats it I guess. I will write more frequently nowadays, but overall, I am a bit better. Life just feels overly calm to the point it's just empty and boring, but I'll take it. Its better than the constant fear and dread that comes along with each passing day, anyway.
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Butterfly
I am forever lost in time,
And for all my actions, yet to be,
I shall forever subside, deeper and deeper
Into this treacherous labyrinth of time.
A vicious cycle seems to shadow me
Of all the things yet to be,
Why, I do live as a butterfly waiting
For all the things yet to be.
For every breath I take, I quiver
With just how bad it could be,
I live within my own shadows of this deadly cycle
Of how things shall forever be.
For me, as a fluttering fly
Shall always circle back
To my eternal fate and back
For that is how time shall be.
I flutter here and there, desperately
To find what I must do,
To step out of this horrifying cycle
Of what I am doomed to forever see.
Why is it that no matter what I do,
I always dissolve in this uncanny abyss of time?
Why do I always circle back- not escape
This wretched fate from time?
The lightest flap of my wings, the slight stir of air
Ensures a spot for my deepest misery.
How unfortunate am I, for no matter how I try
I cannot escape this cycle of distress in time.
I stay adrift, swaying in the breeze
But I fear what could be,
So I will my wings to stay still
And yet I still sway, nearing my death.
As time ticks on, I circle back
And each breath takes me to my nearing death.
Each tremble ripples through the breeze
And sways the still leaves.
The butterfly rests its wings and simply succumbs
For I know whatever I do, it shall end in vain
My delicate wings can harness the time, it seems,
Oh, how I wish I weren't blessed with this bane.
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getting things off my chest(⚠bad grammar)
The writer's paralysis has indeed struck me.
As you may have noticed, I have been inactive for the past few months. Ever since June, while I was ready to embrace my new writing spirit, I waited and waited... but it never came.
Writing has always been my medium to say whatever I wanted. My online communities and socials have been a medium to express who I am without censoring parts of me that are bad. UNFILTERED CONTENT.
But lately, it feels like I have been robbed of all my liberties and freedom involving social media. I need to close myself off and project this fake persona of myself.
It feels so off. Whatever I used to do freely online within a small community has evolved to me keeping a vague persona of who I really am.
11 drafts in labyrinth of Tartarus blogpage
6 drafts in my main blog
You do see where I am going with this, right? Ever since May, I felt like I couldn't write. I couldn't write a single sentence, and with each day, I dissolved into more and more despair. Grief over the absence of writing.
I lay down, depressed, scrolling endlessly on social media. Consuming nothingness and waiting, waiting for a sign.
I feel like I got everything that I want in life. I feel like I satisfied my goals, but then... something is missing.
It feels stagnant, really. I do not look forward to anything in life. Do not get me wrong- I feel happy, but these little flits of happiness do not equate to satisfaction.
I DO NOT FEEL SATISFIED.
I feel I am in a constant state of frustration- over how things are spiraling out of control each moment, and I simply do not want to stop it. I feel very meek, I suppose.
As each day passes by, I feel smaller and smaller, devoid of all the things I thought I was. I may be worth more now, logically speaking, but emotionally I feel so weak.
...
...
...
cut your enemies off and never keep them close
Now, hear me out; I do not care if anyone says that we should always be in close touch with our enemies BECAUSE ITS A LOAD OF BS.
The more you are in company with people who drain you, the more miserable you will feel.
During the times when I was not in contact with people I hate, I felt... so in control of my life, so relieved, and so peaceful.
I FELT CALM. AND HAPPY.
But the moment I was back in contact, I felt distressed and scared. I felt like I was constantly being watched.
why toxic people SUCKKKKK( i mean really, the suck the happiness out of you)
Toxic or not, the people who make you distressed and feel the opposite of calm ARE MOST DEFINITELY THE people you gotta cut off.
Trust me, I know how it feels. The feelings and the memories will weigh more than how they make you feel now, but it isn't worth it. It will just drain you more.
Instead, just cut em off.
BE HAPPY
Because you will reach a point where you don't even think of them once a day(ME!!!! AND IM SO HAPPY I REACHED THERE, TRUST ME, IT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY AS WELL.)
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Escaping from derealization to realization.
Ah. This is quite nice.
'The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.'
-Albus Dumbledore.
From childhood, this quote had an enormous impression on me. I pondered about it for hours and hours, thinking and thinking. Something about this quote had a massive impact on me as a child. Soon, I found myself using it for captions and bios.
...
As a person who'd rather choose to believe comforting lies than bitter truths, it is quite frustrating. To hear the truth means it is the final, true reality that cannot be changed no matter what.
Nevertheless, I am happy I got to know the truth because no strange or obscure realities or pleasing lies can replace the weight of the truth.
...
Upon realizing the harsh reality which I was hidden, it was a moment of great epiphany. I realized the extent of the true reality I resided in.
And things finally made fucking sense.
It truly is one of the most satisfying feelings in the world, to see everything add up and make sense. It felt like finally finding a piece of a jigsaw puzzle and realizing, wow, this makes sense now!
...
FOR A LONG TIME, I WAS STUCK IN THE MIDDLE. A PLACE WHERE I KNEW I WAS SLOWLY DISSOCIATING WITHIN MYSELF, A PLACE IN WHERE I LAY CONFUSED AND OUT OF FOCUS WITH REALITY.
Amidst the confusion and chaos, it was a single beacon of light that projected the whole reality to me.
...
It feels horrible to know that you, to this day, were living a life of utmost ignorance.
Acceptance is agonizing.
If to this day, I was lied to by the entire universe, then, is this "truth" a lie too? Is this real?
HOW COULD IT BE REAL?
...
As humans, we believe our intuitions to be right all the time.
It is confusing, how reality could be so warped when you thought you knew everything? How could the truth unfold like this? How is this...possible?
And then, you start to wonder.
IS THIS ALL A LIE TOO?
...
Fear of being lied to=The second phase of dissociating.
As soon as you start learning about the new reality you are in, you realize how, along with things making sense, things don't.
WHEN REALITY QUESTIONS YOUR INTUITIONS, YOU QUESTION YOURSELF.
AND IF YOU YOURSELF ARE THE MAIN FIGURE OF YOUR REALITY,
YOU BEGIN QUESTIONING EVERYTHING.
...
It will pass.
Because in the end, the satisfaction you get from realizing you know a simple truth... accounts for all the sound sleeps and terrible dreams awaiting.
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After Dark is beautiful.
After Dark is extremely beautiful. I didn't think much of it at first, because it didn't have a huge plot and was airy.
But as I read it, it was...different. The novel's beauty is not about how its characters are written, but it's simply about feeling things through words. Murakami wrote aesthetically, with pleasing visuals and imagery that it was like a dream.
That's the beauty of the book. It is AFTER DARK and the slow, yet dreamlike style of the book deeply resonates with the entire theme of sleep and dream.
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I think I am stunning.
No, but really. I think I am drop-dead gorgeous. I think I am stunning. I think I am beautiful and pretty and sweet.
I know, I know. This sounds so... out of the blue. I am generally a person who really can't see how I can ever be "pretty" in a sense. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a deformed mess of my face and limbs, glaring at my jarring reflection.
I don't know why. I can't help it, too. I happen to look very, very disgusting.
However, there are times I look at my jutting bones, my grotesque lips, and sunken eyes that I can't help but wonder, oh wow, I really am gorgeous! I look unconventionally attractive. I have a sullen appearance, like that of an overripe fruit. I have brittle, branch-like limbs divaricating into slender, rigid fingers. I have wisps of long hair, which is so dark that it shines purple.
Viewing myself as an art or poetry really helped with my self-esteem. Earlier, I used to cope with my looks by feigning.
1. Making fun of myself to feel confident.
I'd pretend to admire and love every inch of myself, while subconsciously hating the very aspect of it. I would say, "Oh, I have pretty eyes!" while thinking they looked disproportionate. After a while, my method of coping transfigured into a much more twisted kind of praise.
For example, I'd say, "Wow, I am so beautiful and gorgeous, I think everyone should love and praise me for my beauty and worship me."
That is...not coping.
That's mocking.
It was an indirect way of making fun of myself, I suppose. In the end, I was again subconsciously reminded of how absolutely idiotic and undeniably ugly I am.
2. The reason for my insecurity.
I will admit, I probably had it easier than others. While others were subjected to endless taunting by their parents and peers, I suffered less vocal means of humiliation. I wasn't belittled or shamed excessively, but I did have my share of frequent poking and stabbing.
My mother, though a relatively good person, has this annoying habit of making fun of someone. My mom used to excessively criticize my lips, my hair, my body...all from childhood.
I was on the skinnier side, and throughout my life, every relative I have ever met has openly shamed my physique.
I'd get comments like,
You look so ugly and weak!
You look like a corpse!
You look ill! Eat up, no one likes skinny girls.
Your sister is cuter than you.
ALL UNFILTERED!
I mean, I really couldn't care less, but some comments got to me. Especially comparisons with my sister, because at that time, everyone adored my sister and never tried to give me a second glance.
I was jealous of her, getting all the praise and compliments only because she is fairer and chubbier than me.
As I became a teenager, my mother started rebuking my appearance. I had very sensitive skin which always resulted in burns/breakouts if I skipped facewash ONCE, which was a bummer. My mom continuously mentioned this, along with how ugly I looked.
I frequently had arguments with her and would burst into tears. She claimed that she was just being helpful by pointing out the things I don't seem to see wrong about myself. I know she doesn't mean any of it, but her joking habit really can hurt someone.
It grew to a point where whatever I mentioned was somehow associated with how I looked. For example, I'd mention how I was hungry and she'd rant about how ugly I look because I am skinny and about how I probably should eat more. Every. single. thing was associated with my looks. It got exhausting after a point. I try my best not to care, though.
My second shock came in school. Many people talked about how I look ugly now and how I looked better when I was in elementary. This was a severe blow to my self-esteem. If I was hanging out with a prettier friend and people tried to talk to us, they'd entirely IGNORE my presence and act like I was something repulsive and disturbing.
Am I really repulsive and disturbing?
3. My skin!!!
I'd stare at my boyfriend and observe his skin. He literally looks stunning. He got super clear skin and speckled gold all over his face.
I AM SO ENVIOUS OF HIS SKIN.
I really want clear skin. My skin is extremely sensitive and dry. Each day, I have to wash my skin at least four times with facewash. If it goes up to only three, there's a 100% guarantee of breakouts.
Experimenting with different products only leads to worse results. However, I somehow managed to find what suits my skin. Pray for me.
4. I am the woman of my poetry.
The best way to increase my self-confidence is by romanticizing myself. I write poems and scriptures about a girl like me, but highly exaggerated and romanticized.
I MAKE MYSELF THE GIRL OF MY OWN POETRY!
I romanticize my dark hair, small almond eyes, jawline, and reedy limbs and find out how beautiful I look when I'm written down in words.
I look prettier, more sophisticated, and more glamorous.
CLOSURE
I think I am beautiful. I think I am a work of art. And I may not be, in everyone else's eyes, but in mine own, I shall forever be.
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Anger
I wish anger didn't exist.
Every other emotion in the world is validated. Even anger is. Anger gets you what you want. Anger is a defense mechanism, naturally.
Yet something about anger is so wild and repulsive, it scares me.
For a long time, anger has been terrifying. The idea of people getting angry at me was too much to handle. The burst of emotions, the burst of feelings, and all things felt and the wave of hurt that rushes over you... Overall, it is a sick emotion.
My anger is rooted in my long-term depression.
For a long time, I was frustrated mentally and physically. I was sucked into a feeling void of any feeling; I simply felt nothing. Certain emotions felt strong- for example, I was frustrated with my life. Eventually, the frustration over my life turned into intense, deep anger.
Anger hurts and only hurts.
Anger only hurts and pushes people away.
I despise anger.
In the end, it simply pushes people away. Pushes people whom you love away. Pushes and breaks families, breaks friendships, and breaks people.
It can also break down a person, fully.
It can ruin lives.
Anger never heals.
Truly, anger never ever heals.
I had a wrong notion about anger- I thought bringing out frustrations and words always do help you feel calmer. It doesn't. Anger just breaks you each time you become provocative.
Anger never heals.
Anger doesn't fix anything. It just aggravates it. It just causes destruction and ruin but never result in peace. Anger destroys.
Anger is very primitive.
I feel like it is a very primitive emotion.
As humans evolved, we became distinguishable from other creatures by our highly developed sense of moral values and deeds.
Anger is against morals.
Anger helps to survive, not live. Anger is a way of getting what you want, ferociously and aggressively.
Sadness promotes deep thinking and critical thinking. Happiness promotes a sense of fulfillment and living.
Anger destroys.
Anger is a primitive emotion based on primitive human values. It aids only in the destruction of others and the self.
Anger is self-centered.
Anger is a selfish emotion. It has zero ethical values. What does it do? It only provides for itself.
It is egotistical.
I am biased toward anger because it is ruining my life.
Undeniably, anger is a very horrifying aspect of my life. All events caused by someone else's anger have led to some sort of trauma or the other. Anger is one emotion I cannot tolerate no matter what.
I feel like I physically go insane whenever someone is angry at me. I feel like I'm being killed and brutally stabbed to death. Anger hurts...
Anger in me has only ruined me so far. I was relatively calm until I got angry outbursts. It wrecks everything you got. Nothing can make up for anger.
Anger just... Ruined my life.
I will never let anger take control of me again.
It is a wretched emotion that has only led me to my own physical and mental death.
Anger ruins.
Anger breaks.
Anger destroys.
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Oh, to just succumb to the earthen shadows.
TW- Suicide, Mental Illness, Self Harm, Sexual Abuse.
I just wish I could surrender to the world. I wish I could.
Life is very... disturbing. A mix of feelings and all things felt. A symphony of tragic emotions and spasms of voices and sounds.
My life is a constant dip.
Ever since childhood, I wondered how people have their lives together. Everyone lives with their things all organized and well-made.
But me?
Why must I breathe the same air as them, yet feel CONSTANTLY below them?
Why must I walk on the same ground, traverse the same routes, and drink the same water they drink?
WHY AM I STILL LESS? WHY AM I NOT ENOUGH?
.
.
.
I reside in the agonizing, boiling, bubbling, frothing, STEWING SPLUTERRING PAIN OF MY MIND.
Ever since my childhood. I fully submerged myself in excruciating pain. I felt mentally tortured, and deprived of happiness.
1
GASLIGHTING YOURSELF TO BE HAPPY
To this day, my brain never sits in a calm state.
Every time, I feel as if I am being torn apart into shreds. My brain rapidly eats me up and vomits me out. Still, I don't feel the icky, disgusting feel out of me.
So I make myself throw up.
A RUSH. A FUCKING MIND-NUMBING RUSH OF ALL FEELINGS EJECTED OUT OF ME. A FEELING OF PURE, PURE PAIN.
I AM INDULGED IN MERCILESS, MISERABLE, DISTRESS.
My head spins. A rope seems to be balancing me from the top, like a puppet. MARIONETTE.
And I feel
yanked
side
by
side.
So what do I do?
BEING SAD IS A PRIVILEGE. BEING MISERABLE IS AN ACQUIRED EMOTION FOR PEOPLE WHO DESERVE TO THINK SO EXTRAORDINARILY. IT'S A PROFOUND, BEAUTIFUL EMOTION.
Maybe, I am sad because I am bound to think greatly. Being sad gives rise to beautiful and tragic feelings and thoughts.
Whenever I am happy, I notice I become sorta DUMB.
I am not dumb.
I am bound
to
be
intelligent
and
pathetically pitiful.
I deserve all the pain I have
And,
ALL THE PAIN I HAVE IS NOT BAD- IT IS A BLESSING.
2
FATED TO A LIFE OF PURE GLOOM.
Most of the time, I feel like my traumas take up a personified, HUMAN-LIKE form and harass me at night.
My sexual abuse crawls up underneath my panties and puts one hooked finger and rotates it inside me, making me writhe in pain. I feel blood dripping down. Then, slowly, a cold, clammy lip caresses my inner thighs and feels a sickly, cold sticky feeling.
There comes a kiss to my lips now, tongue deeply etching my face and saliva dripping all over my unhealed scars. It hurts.
I wish I could sleep without feeling like this.
My relationship(family, friends, and others) trauma hit me so hard, I feel knocked out. I feel senseless with grief and the cold, sickening smell of blood wafting through the air into my nostrils.
3
SELF INFLICTED PAIN
4
PREDETERMINED FOR FAULTY.
I think I am fated
to make
mistakes
forever and ever.
And ruin
every relation
I will ever have.
Because as long as people are with me
they will get hurt.
Because it's me.
I am shit.
A PIECE OF SHIT WHO IS BETTER OFF DEAD
AND WHY DO I STILL LIVE?
fin.
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Omori- The Trauma Experience.
Please play audio and video at the given stanzas for the entire experience.
Each video and audio contributes heavily to the content. If viewed without them, the content can be confusing/unreadable.
You must view the videos of the photo albums.
TW- Discussions about mental health, depression, suicide, and death.
Please play music in the given stanzas for a better experience.
Close,
your
eyes,
you'll be here
soon.
onetwothreefourfiveminuites
sometimes I really want to sleep
but I can't do it.
Close your eyes.
Everything is going to be okay.
How do you overcome trauma when you are constantly reminded of the experience?
Over
And over again?
How do you overcome the trauma of a situation caused by you when the mere thought of it
Absolutely breaks you?
It is simple. You forget.
You forget it ever happened. You sink into everlasting grief with no recollection of what had transpired. You are at peace. You do not fear the consequences of being reminded of what you have done.
But really, is forgetting...worth it?
Or should I remember my trauma to overcome it?
Omori is a game about remembering when you are trying to forget.
It forces you to accept your trauma and not hide from it. You don't expect anyone to forgive you for your mistakes because the greatest thing you have done is forgive yourself.
Omori aptly captures the psychological effect of trauma and depicts mental illness perfectly. In the gameplay, Omori incorporates visuals, audio, and other elements to make it seem like it was happening to us. Every mental stab at Omori feels like it is directed toward us. Omori perfectly captures how mental illness is experienced through its immersive gameplay, creating an outstanding masterpiece.
In Omori, just like in the real world, you navigate through the real world and your mind to uncover bits and bits of your trauma while going through intense repercussions. You persist along with Omori and overcome your trauma.
You overcome something.
The gameplay works in both the mind and real life of a boy named Sunny, the protagonist in the game.
The truth about his trauma is hidden by Omori, his alter ego. Omori tries to "protect" Sunny from his trauma by never allowing him to think beyond his comfort zone.
Omori is a figment of Sunny's brain, represented by a 12-year-old version of Sunny- when Sunny encountered his trauma. Omori travels in the various parts of Sunny's mind-
The Whitespace is a safe space made by Omori to escape when something triggers Sunny's trauma.
The Headspace- A place in Sunny's imagination wherein he finds the old version of his friends.
███ Space, █████ Space 1 and 2, where █████ ██ ████████ ███ ████ █████ █████ ████████ ███ ██████ █████ █████ █████ ██ ████ ███ ████ ████████ █████ ██ ████ ██████
And, without further ado, let us begin our journey.
youtube
Welcome to White Space.
You have been living here for as long as you can remember.
Omori starts off by introducing a pixelated, intriguing figure named Omori. Omori is a young boy confined to a dull, ominous room called the White Space. This room seems like a void, except with this seemingly mundane yet disturbing setup of basic necessities- a laptop with all your entries, a sketchbook containing a few of Omori's artworks, a box of tissues to wipe away all your tears, a black lightbulb, Mewo the cat and a locked door.
The White Space is an unsettling room you are first introduced to in this game. It is an empty space wherein you simply exist. That's it. You stay alive in the white room- not live life.
An emptiness, a home without warmth. A place to survive but not to live.
To leave this infinite space of nothing but white matter, you search around and get a shiny knife. Interesting. It could be a weapon! You happily exit the locked door, which seems to have unlocked once the blade miraculously finds its way into your hands.
White Space isn't reality. It is a corner in the protagonist's mind that is restricted from other parts of his brain and reality. It is a hiding place where he is protected from his troubling past. Nothing can get him here.
White space, Omori.
As soon as you leave Whitespace, you arrive at this new fabulous world decked with neon colors and vibrant hues.
Aerial map of Headspace.
Unlike bland and boring whitespace, Headspace is happy, cheery, silly, and fun. Omori meets up with all of his friends here in Headspace. We meet Mari, Omori's older sister. She's kind, thoughtful, charming, and sweet. We meet Hero, the 'brother' figure- a good-natured, patient guy who happens to be Mari's boyfriend. We meet Kel, Hero's younger brother, a silly little goofball who is fun and energetic. We meet Aubery, a feisty, adorable little girl(Omori seems to have a soft corner for her- I wonder!). Finally, we meet Basil, a shy, sweet and sensitive guy who adores nature.
Omori and his friends. Top(from left to right)- Mari, Hero. Bottom- Kel, Basil, Omori, Aubery.
In Headspace, Sunny's dream world, everything is perfect. You and your friends go on adventures and defeat monsters with your teamwork. In a world with your multi-hued friends, even Omori, the depressing black-and-white personification of a younger Sunny, appears happy.
youtube
Basil's photo album, headspace.
Or so, you thought.
Sunny in the real world, haunted by something.
Welcome to reality.
Mari is dead. Hero, just like Sunny, is depressed and hasn't left his home in ages. Kel tries his best to be optimistic and persuades Sunny out of his house for the first time in four years. Aubery isn't the sweet kid anymore but a bully with new friends. Basil is still shy yet depressed.
youtube
Basil's photo album in the real world, before Mari's death.
Everything changed ever since Mari committed suicide. Everything has broken apart. Sunny truly cared about his sister, Mari, who was gone forever.
The sun shone brighter when she was here.
Sunny lost everything from the moment Mari committed suicide. He also started to get haunted...by something.
Throughout the game, Sunny(and Omori) stumble across various absurd entities labeled by something each representing one of Sunny's fears(stairs, drowning, spiders, etc.). Sunny uses tactics such as breathing, calming down and persisting, to get through his fears.
3 DAYS LEFT.
In headspace, Kel and Aubery get into a fight and accidentally knock out Basil's photo album, comprising the photos Basil took of their friends. As they group the photographs together, Basil suddenly panics, and upon taking one photo, his eyes fill with intense fear. A black shadow forms behind Basil as he screams out and disappears into the void.
Mari!
Omori and his friends search for Basil, occasionally battling villains and exploring headspace. However, as time goes on, Omori's friends slowly forget Basil.
No bandage can stifle an eternal wound... And there will be a time when its influence will bleed through.
Omori hides the truth, the truth behind this fabricated world of Headspace, and the truth behind his past. However, no bandage can stifle an eternal wound, and there will be one day when all will fall apart.
What happened to Sunny?
What happened to his friends?
Why is Omori living in a fabricated lie in Sunny's mind?
What happened? What is the truth?
███████ to Black Space.
The whole of headspace is a representation of Sunny's mind.
The Headspace forms Sunny's imagination, dreams, and wishes, built specially by Omori to hide his trauma. It includes the conscious part of Sunny's mind.
The Whitespace forms the part of Sunny's mind where he can isolate himself from any potentially disturbing thoughts.
As Omori ventures into headspace, we often stumble upon more intriguing, morbid segments of Sunny's mind. We see strange creatures, strange entities, trying, trying to tell us the truth.
We reach Blackspace, the subconscious of Sunny's mind. This is where the truth about Sunny's past lies.
However, blackspace is neither friendly nor easily navigable. It is an intangible, absurd world with zero coherencies whatsoever. It simply does not make any sense. It is a bizarre reality, composed of fragments of the truth.
Black Space.
The doors in Blackspace are non-linear and have a warped existence, interconnecting and often "seeping" into Headspace. Each room holds a personification of Omori(Sunny)'s deepest, darkest fears.
Strange, bizarre creatures are found in Blackspace.
Above are just a few examples of Blackspace rooms.
In Blackspace, we can see cryptic forms of Mari(popularly known as Hellmari), disembodied versions of Omori's friends, harmful signs and symbols, and yet, the most disturbing thing would be Omori constantly brutally stabbing a shadow Basil when he attempts to tell the truth.
But...what is the meaning of all this?
Sunny's Trauma.
As we move further into the game, we realize how there is something, something dark and horrifying trying to tell us the truth. However, no matter how close we get, we are teleported back to White Space, the supposed safe spot, wherein nothing can potentially harm us.
PTSD
Omori is Sunny's guardian from the truth regarding his trauma. It is, without question, that Sunny suffers from PTSD. Omori experiences several flashbacks throughout the game.
In most cases, people with trauma experience its repercussions not by a fully-fledged memory but by flashes or fragments of the memory. It can appear in form of reminders of the event, noises, short memories, etc.
Memories, dreams, and flashbacks – You might have distressing memories, dreams, or nightmares about the event. You might also experience the event as if it is happening again (this is known as a flashback).
Sunny often has flashbacks and flashes of the event.
Feeling upset when reminded of the event – You might feel particularly upset when you are near where the event happened or in an environment that reminds you of the event.
Sunny has major emotional outbursts(he attacks Basil in real life) when reminded of his trauma.
Avoiding feelings and situations – You might avoid memories, thoughts, feelings, things, people, and places associated with the event.
Sunny avoids thoughts or events that remind him of his trauma by forgetting his memories deliberately and living out a fantasy.
Loss of memory – You might be unable to remember parts of the event.
Sunny has an evident loss of memory(dissociative amnesia).
Difficult feelings – These can include:
feeling negative about yourself, others, or the world
blaming yourself or others for what happened
negative emotions like fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame
being unable to feel happiness, satisfaction, or love toward others
Self-explanatory.
Changes in the way you act – These can include:
not doing or being interested in things you used to enjoy
feeling detached from other people
acting in ways that are reckless or self-destructive
being angry and aggressive towards people or things
being hypervigilant, or ‘on guard’
This includes not spending time with friends, acting destructive(trying to hurt Basil), and not playing the violin he used to play.
Depression
Sunny undeniably suffers from Depression, as shown by his refusal to leave his house and the violently horrifying thoughts(especially in blackspace) we witness during our journey with Omori.
Anxiety
Sunny also suffers from severe anxiety, as depicted by encountering spiders, staircases, and water bodies in the gameplay. Sunny sort of seizes up, and we have to...
Persist, breathe, and overcome.
Dissociative Amnesia
Sunny seems to be suffering from Dissociative Amnesia, a condition wherein you forget certain parts of a traumatic event. Omori shields Sunny from the truth about his trauma, making him completely unaware of it.
Dissociative amnesia is a condition in which you can't remember important information about your life. This forgetting may be limited to certain specific areas (thematic) or may include much of your life history and/or identity (general).
Dissociative Identity Disorder(DID)
Sunny might also be suffering from DID, which is apparent in the "split personality" Sunny seems to have- one of the real-life 16-year-old Sunny and the other of a 12-year-old avatar of Omori.
Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is a mental health condition. Someone with DID has multiple, distinct personalities. The various identities control a person's behavior at different times. The condition can cause memory loss, delusions, or depression. DID is usually caused by past trauma.
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Omori enters a Red room filled with arm-shaped thrones, where he sits, ruling over Sunny's consciousness. This is when the truth about Omori slowly dawns on us...
Omori is Sunny's guardian, the mastermind behind this whole world. He attempts to protect Sunny from the repressed truth about his trauma, mercilessly killing those who wish to tell the truth to Sunny, like Basil, for instance. Omori is not a friend but the final boss, and if Sunny succeeds in defeating Omori, he can finally realize...
The truth.
Headspace was built over Blackspace by Omori to seal up its influences. Sunny, who dwelled in Blackspace for a while following his traumatic event, chose to "forget" himself and create a new version of himself who'd protect him-Omori.
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The onset of war within oneself.
The final battle between Omori and Sunny heavily symbolizes something we all struggle with- a conflict within oneself.
When Sunny demands the truth, Omori refuses, as the truth could hurt Sunny. However, only with the truth can Sunny move forward, forward from his 12-year-old self and his friends from four years ago.
The fight between Sunny and Omori represents two sides of the same coin- a part of Sunny wants to know the truth, while a part of him wants to escape from it. Part of Sunny desires to grow, while the other part wants to stay 12 forever in his fantasy world.
To recover from trauma, the best way is to remember and learn how to live with it.
Acceptance – Learning to accept that though you can’t change what has happened, you can think differently about the event, the world, and your life.
Remembering the event – Remembering what happened without being overwhelmed by fear and distress. You will be able to think about what happened when you want to, rather than through intrusive thoughts or flashbacks.
Putting your experiences into words – Talking about what happened so that your mind can store the memories away, and move on to other things.
Feeling safer – Helping you to feel more in control of your feelings. This can help you to feel safer, so you won’t need to avoid the memories as much.
Sunny uses his innocent and younger self to feel secure. His 12-year-old self, hurt excessively by his trauma, is now embodied as his protector, who still dwells in his childhood world.
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Using his tactics, Sunny defeats Omori in the end by persisting, focusing and breathing- finally overcoming his phobia and trauma. He smashes the black lightbulb in Whitespace and there, he realizes.
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The truth.
Ever since Mari started playing the piano, Sunny felt lonely and separated from his older sister. He decided to learn the violin gifted to him by his friends in order to spend more time with Mari.
Soon enough, it became tiresome. Sunny felt like a burden on Mari with the constant mistakes he made. His violin practice made him spend less time with his friends, which made him feel miserable.
Mari and Sunny were about to perform a duet together when they got into an argument at the top of the stairs. Sunny threw the violin in rage, breaking it into pieces. When Mari argued, Sunny pushed her off the stairs.
Mari broke her neck and lay at the bottom of the stairs in a huddle, dead. Sunny, in a panic, dragged Mari to his room. Basil, who arrived at the right time, on witnessing this situation, decided to help Sunny frame it as a suicide and help Sunny out, who was racked with guilt and fear.
They hanged her limp body on a tree. Sunny looked back and saw dead Mari's eye, staring into him. It quickly transfigured into the something he always feared.
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Do you want to continue?
Yes.
Sunny performs his last duet with Mari. The piece starts off with a beautiful piano serenade and ends with a weeping, shivering, imperfect melody of a violin, indicating the sheer perfection Mari had, while Sunny lacked.
The final duet(Enable Audio).
Sunny forgives himself.
In the ending hospital scene, a very bruised Sunny and Basil meet each other, ready to admit the truth. How does it matter, truly, if others forgive him and Basil when they both forgive themselves?
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In the end, Sunny and Basil accepted their fate and decided to forgive themselves and each other. They overcame and moved on.
Sometimes you do a bad thing, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Forgive yourself.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, make sure to watch this video. I have taken most of my inspiration for this project from here.
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I wrote this post about how I feel about November.
November is incredibly cold and dreary, unlike December, which is cold, feisty, and fun. November has a weepy, droopy feel which I have a love-hate relationship with.
I feel like if November was a person, they'd be crying all the time. They'd be tired and unwanted. They'd be sad and weary.
November is kind of unhinged. She hurts others unknowingly with her horrible words and then wipes the bloodstain she has caused with her own tears. She hurts and heals.
November
She wore a thick woolen coat of a blue mist
Percolating into the cool earthly browns.
She drifted across the shadowy concrete, her sky-blue robes
Trailing at the outline of her willowy stance.
November wasn’t sweet; her face caked with talc
A certain, subtle, misty facade(?)
She sighed prettily, with her drooping eyes
Left with no tears to cry.
November bore the demeanour
Of all the widows that wept,
Of All the mothers that sobbed,
And of all the indistinct, vague calamities yet to come.
And as for her, my beloved,
November, who inflicts all the scars
And wipes away the blood,
Cannot wipe her own tears, heavier than blood, away.
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Discussing Iconic Fashion Trends: My Opinions and Analysis(Part 1)
Welcome to the artsy Labyrinth of Tartarus, wherein I discuss casually influential fashion trends spanning over decades and my personal take on each of them.
For this post, I will be using this website for obtaining the names and characteristics of each style and trend, just for easier analysis.
The 1800s- The S Bend Sillhouette.
The S-Bend Sillhouette was popularized in the 1800s, with the corset forming an S-shaped silhouette, enhancing the bust and hips while narrowing the waist and stomach to practically nothing.
During the shift from the Victorian Era(think polished and conservative colours, strict and bossy styles, and poised garments), the Edwardian Era of clothing seems to be a major upgrade, as this was the period when society was rapidly becoming less conservative and more modernized, giving women a chance to express themselves more lightly and carefree.
The above is an example of Victorian styles- puffy gowns, crinolines(the wired silhouettes for wearing gowns) with voluminous backs, and corsets exaggerated to portray "sexuality".
However, during the end of the Victorian Era and the beginning of the Edwardian Era, fashion in women evolved to a more chic, elegant style that is less restrictive and more carefree in nature. The style is so prominent that it has formed the basis for many fashion trends to this date.
Instead of gaudy and elaborate designs, simpler, more feminine designs with light clothing made of cotton and linen, often decorated with ruffles, floral prints, and lace.
The most prominent feature of the Edwardian Era was quite obviously the iconic S-Shaped Silhoutte. It enchanced the bust and protuded out the hip and butt while thinning the waist, to a slightly comical and an exaggerated look. As an ideal standard of beauty persists in each era, the Gibson Girl formed the basis of beauty.
The Gibson Girl- The Ideal woman of the Edwardian Era.
A messy, voluminous hairstyle with a slim yet curvacious figurine made a Gibson Girl- the epitome of elegance and sexuality. She had a rather large bust, an elegant figure with an exaggerated hip. She often wore seductive yet flowy, feminine clothing which was often elegant and poised. A sweetheart or a square neckline was implemented into the looks, abandoning the conservative and high necks of Victorian fashion(however, some sources claim Victorians were less conservative and did not implement high necklines in their fashion, which I am unaware of as both my researches clash. So I'd like someone to clarify.). Slightly messy updos were preferred. This style is effortless and chic and at the same time, not too sexualizing and revolting.
My opinions-
I honestly find Edwardian Fashion to be my favourite out of all historical fashion trends, because of its seductive yet poised silhouette and beautiful elements which embrace femininity and formed a basis for many hyperfeminine styles now. Gibson Girl was indeed toxic, as all beauty ideals are, due to its overexaggerated sS-Shaped Silhouette trend that was incredibly comfortable and unhealthy. However, the interpretation and style are magnificent and quite interesting.
Artwork of a Gibson Girl by Giovanni Boldini.
The 1910s- Hobble Skirt.
As women became comfortable in wearing clothes above the ankle, hobble skirts originated, evolving to be one of the most ridiculous fashion trends which somehow paved the way to be one of the most influential, too.
It is an ankle-length skirt that tapers at the end, just above the ankles. It was a massive failure that was popularized, as it limited movement and resulted in many accidents. However, due to its highly glamorous style, it was a staple for many upper-class women.
Because of its simple design, it became popular with the lower and middle classes and was quickly reproduced everywhere. Pleats, slits, or buttons were used to provide an easier movement.
This fashion trend died out quickly, for obvious reasons.
My opinions-
No words- it is ugly, it is ridiculous, it is downright stupid, and just...why? However, I am happy with the variant of the hobble skirt which prevails now- The pencil skirt. An elegant, minimalistic and chic variant of the dreadful hobble skirt.
Pencil Skirt.
The 1920s- Flapper Fashion and Black Dress By Chanel.
Flapper style originated in the 1920's and is one of the most popular and commonly recognized fashion trends in history. This fashion trend was scandalous and revolting as it challenged conservative society and paved way to its own subcultre.
Flapper styles are usually flowy, sultry, fluid garments in rectangular pieces of clothing which are heavily decorated with ornate designs, embedded with beads, and studded with sequins. They pose a polar opposite to the trends that prevailed earlier and were quite the opposite of modest and decent clothing. Feathers and other flamboyant details like exaggerated, fancy makeup were also incorporated.
Flappers were considered to be crass, immature women who flaunted their sexuality and showed their apparent distaste for societal norms. They wore bold makeup, and skimpy clothes, and had a casual approach to sex. They indulged in many foreplay parties and had a lot of freedom, owing to the availability of automobiles and the social and political disability caused by World War I.
A flapper dress. It reaches the knee, which was considered very short back then. The sleeveless dress was considered vulgar and scandalous.
Corsets have been discarded, and a box figure was obtained by the flapper style, giving a boyish look. Knee-length dresses were normalized, and dresses were made to look sexually appealing(show off legs and arms). Intricate patterns and beadwork were used.
Why do I love Flapper Styles?
Flapper style firstly is very chic and fancy. They are highly versatile and can be made into either an elegant dress or a striking party gown. It also has rooted itself in gothic and punk genres and has formed a staple of many aesthetical trends now.
Gothic subcultures adopted the flapper look as it is a symbol of individuality and expression.
The Roaring Twenties had a massive impact on society. It marked a period of transition from a conventional society to a carefree, scandalous society. It marks the beginning of artistic liberty in the clothing styles of women and a sense of individuality. For the first time in history, women wore knee-length skirts and sleeveless dresses and flaunted their sexuality.
During the roaring twenties, there was heavy progress in economical growth. People could afford dresses with elaborate and ornate decors and patterns. This contributed to the popularity of flapper styles.
The Roaring Twenties. A time of dramatic social, cultural, and political change affecting lifestyle, music, art, and society.
The Little Black Dress- A staple since the 1920s.
Everyone is familiar with the little black dress. It is considered a staple in every wardrobe, as it is a dress that can be worn for every occasion- be it a party, an interview, or a funeral. The history of the little black dress stretches back to the 1920s. It was released by Coco Chanel during the Great Depression. It became soon popularized due to its elegant and simple and highly versatile design, making it popular to this day.
The Original Black Dress, designed by Coco Chanel.
A sexier alternate designed by Coco herself- cinched waists and fuller skirts, giving a whole new dimension to the look.
Marilyn Monroe sporting an off-shoulder black dress.
The black dress quickly gained fame and it became a symbol of grace and minimalism.
My opinion-
I absolutely adore the flapper dress and the little black dress. It was a huge transition from the conservative era to a new era wherein women sexually embraced themselves and expressed their liberty through fashion. It brought a huge change to society and I give all my respect for that. I also find these styles to be stunning and really pretty.
The 1930s- Bias-Cut Gowns
By the end of the Great Depression, the loose flapper dresses got replaced by cocktail gowns of silk, satin, and rayon, which embrace and accentuate the female body. These dresses were effortless, sleek, and agile.
Madeleine Vionnet designed a bias cut, which stands iconic even today.
It exemplified the curves of a woman by incorporating sleek silky material, which would cling to the body and create a seductive, sexy silhouette without the usage of corsets and thus, ensuring no over-exaggeration of feminine bodies.
It marked the beginning of the femme fatale aesthetic, portraying sensual women who are potentially dangerous with the help of the silver screen.
The bias-cut gown still exists today and has been popularized recently, owing to its minimalistic yet sensual design.
Modern bias-cut gown.
My opinions-
I love, love, love, love, love bias-cut gowns. They awakened the femme fatale aesthetic and embraced the natural feminity of women by placing them in slinky ensembles. This look is iconic and will forever be iconic.
So, this is it for part one. I may make a part two of the iconic styles throughout history, because I really enjoy researching them. Till then, thank you for reading!
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Welcome aboard!
Hi, this is Andressa’s personal abode, wherein I speak my mind and DO NOT CARE ABOUT GRAMMAR!!! This is gonna be my personal blog of personal ideas, opinions and other stuff so let’s get started!
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