Me: *just vibin’*

My brain: .... pst. PSSST. You should re-play Pokemon Ultra Sun

Me: Yo, sounds good. Lemme get a copy super quick

My brain: And do it as a dark-type only Nuzlocke

Me: Oooh, I never completed my last one, I can dig it-

My brain: And make it an art locke!

Me: ...I mean. I guess? I can use it as an excuse to draw Pokemon, try to get better at poses in case something dies, which would suck-

My brain: TO THEN MAKE A BACK STORY FOR YOUR POKEMON OC! THAT TAKES PLACE DURING KUKUI AND GUZMA’S TRIAL DAYS! MAKE IT A COMIC! 

Me: *sOBBING* I’ve never drawn a comic before, why are you doing this? Why do you demand this from me? Do you not remember your world building SUCKS?! DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT I SUCK AT DRAWING ANYTHING MORE COMPLEX THAN A STILL IMAGE OF A PERSON?!

My brain: do it or else you wont’ be able to sleep today because I won’t shut up

Me: ...the game’s not even gonna be at the house for another two days... I don’t even have a notebook with me right now.. why are you like this?

Me IRL: *terrified of spiders, screams in surprise if a tiny one appears without warning, big ones give me panic attacks

Me in ACNH: Where are ya, you eight legged bitch?! I will FORCE you to spawn into existence if I can’t find your little paradise island! Get your creepy butt into my net, I wanna sell you to a couple children and settle my house debt!

Never before have I had such an uncontrollable urge to play Yu-Gi-Oh. Too bad there’s no one nearby who even plays the damn game.

I mean? I have two decks? So if I start going super crazy I can just duel myself and act like a dumbass when I Mirror Force myself.

I just. I really miss dueling my boyfriend (even if he did tear me apart with his stupid Red Eyes obsession. I’ll kick his ass one day....) and a couple of my buddies...

Just finished marathoning all six live action Resident Evil movies with my dad today (well, five of them and the last half of Apocalypse). I will admit, I was a pleb who was introduced to the series through these movies, and hadn’t even seen a Resident Evil game until Biohazard came out. Sooo... my introduction to the series was less than the best. 

Now that I know more about the ACTUAL Resident Evil characters (or, more than my literal ZERO knowledge when first watching these movies and several re-watches after), plus with the amount of time that has passed, it’s... kinda obvious how bad some of these movies were (well, one in particular I always hated, even before knowing more about the games). 

So, to honor this marathon and my new opinions, I decided I REALLY wanted to rank these bois and my opinions of them from worst to ‘best’, because absolutely no one asked for this. This is literally all for fun, no hard feelings, I just. I really want to talk about my opinions/feelings for these things. 

In last place, we’ve got the third movie, Extinction. This one, even before I knew more info, was my least favorite of the movies. From the Alice clones, to the crazy, psychic super powers, and all sorts of ridiculousness in between, I just had a raging hate boner for this movie, and if ever I marathoned these in the past, I always wanted to just skip over this one. I literally cannot think of any redeeming qualities for this movie whatsoever. 

Fifth place we’ve got the sixth movie, Final Chapter. Now, this placement was hard to figure out, mostly due to my opinion of my fourth and third place choices. These three movies I have very similar thoughts toward which made it difficult to pin down my exact feelings toward ranking. Anyway, tonight was my first time EVER watching this movie. Which I was honestly stunned by. I feel it a bit unfair to place it in fifth since I’ve only gone through it once, but I really couldn’t find anything too, too interesting with this one unfortunately. It DEFINITELY was better than Extinction. So that’s a plus I guess. 

Fourth place is the fourth movie, Afterlife. Now. Why is Afterlife in fourth? Despite my most recent re-watch of it being filled with, ‘seriously, WHY?!”? A few reasons. First, the soundtrack is an absolute BANGER, best one I’ve heard in these movies since Marilyn Manson’s work in the first one. Tomandandy did a stellar job, along with a nice cameo of A Perfect Circle (I’m very salty that the soundtrack for the movie doesn’t include my FAVORITE track though, so that’s a bit of a negative).  Also we’ve got Wentworth Miller as Chris Redfield. I’m a major fan of some Wentworth Miller after being introduced to him via his role as Captain Cold. The appearance of the Executioner ‘Axeman’ was also a rather hype moment for me. Other than that though, I was. Not pleased. Again, we’ve got the Alice clones which makes things on the ‘meh’ side, the Wesker moments were SO FUCKING CHEESY I couldn’t handle it. And the quarter gun. THE QUARTER GUN. I used to love this movie when I was younger because of that gun, but now it just makes me so mad because IT MAKES. NO. SENSE. Anyway, moving on.

Third place is fifth movie, Retribution! Again, this is another really close one between Afterlife and Final Chapter. I had less ‘wtf, why?’ moments with this one than Afterlife. So. I guess that’s a point toward it? It mostly just had a bunch of nice cameos of nostalgic characters, and having recently been introduced to Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong, knowing more about their history, it was kinda cool to see them. Plus, return of Jeffery. It was so nice to see a Licker again. GOD I missed those things. Also a return of Tomandandy’s soundtrack work, I got kinda hype when I saw them in the opening credits, “Well, even if the movie is terrible, at least the soundtrack will be nice.” was basically my mindset at that point after we had just finished watching Afterlife.

Second place we’ve got the original, OG, first to come out Resident Evil. This one is just mostly fueled with mass nostalgia, to be honest? It obviously didn’t age all that well with the CGI, and Jeffery’s debut appearance was... oh, oh that CGI was SO bad I almost laughed. Rain is a badass, I vibed with her so much. And god. I felt terrible for Matt, seriously. Plus, the soundtrack is still one of my favorites to this day. Manson and Marco Beltrami did a STELLAR job with it.

And finally, Apocalypse. Now, this one, like I said, I was only able to watch the tail end of it during our marathoning. So my memories of it are a few years old. I WOULD re-watch it at work since I have access to it... but the last thing I want to be seen on camera is me watching some zombie tiddy. Because hooker zombies. THAT aside, from what I remember this one was my favorite of the franchise. It has a very close tie with the first one (again, mostly for nostalgia) but the winner for me was Nemesis. I am a simp for Nemesis. Apocalypse is the reason why I lost my proverbial shit when I found out about Nemesis being in Resident Evil 3 when the remake launched (my knowledge of this franchise is still extremely minimal, please don’t hate me for being an absolute tool). But yeah. Nemesis made this movie for me. Along with some more Jeffery appearances. Because I always need more Lickers in my life. They also seemed like they tried to match appearances with their Jill Valentine cameo in this one? Which I appreciate. 

It’s honestly funny to hear people’s opinions on these movies. One of my previous co-workers all but disowned me for a few nights after learning I kinda enjoyed these movies, rating them as ‘trash’ and ‘an offense to the actual Resident Evil’. But on the other hand my sister LOVES these movies, sees Alice as ‘A total badass’, and thought my co-worker was lame for having such hate for them. Which is odd because she not only watched these movies, but she also watched a friend play the games. So she still liked them despite knowing the actual root inspiration for them;

Anyway, I’m not having the highest of hopes for Netflix’s original Resident Evil series they’re coming out with after my newfound thoughts and opinions on the live action movies. I was hype when I first heard about it, because maybe they could do right by the franchise. But... it seems like they’re following the line of original characters’ stories again. So I’m not holding my breath on that one. 

Currently pissed as fuck that these people are having me do jury duty despite me saying that I work third shift when the fuckheads originally screened me. Like thanks, guess I won’t sleep for a week since this wouldn’t cause me to miss work. Fuck you too, assholes.

I don’t know how to describe my mental state or mental scape. It’s a tangled mess of thoughts, worries, and things I’d rather forget. I always imagine it as a darkened room, the only light coming from a hardly cracked open door, one that barely opens much anymore nowadays. The main focus that I always see, though, is a corner filled with crumpled pieces of paper and aluminum foil. The foil being emotions that I can’t let out and have to keep bottled up, the paper thoughts that I’d rather not focus on, rather not let them take me over. Thoughts that I’d rather keep hidden away in that corner.

I grew up in a small town and was rather sheltered. I always had a hand on my shoulder that directed me on how to do things, and shielded me when I was having trouble. In fifth grade, that hand faded slightly, anxiety took over, and complications arose. In fifth grade, I slowly learned to not show the world what my thought process was or how things were affecting me. At ten years old, the aluminum foil began to appear.

The hand came back, recovered, and we moved on with life. I still crumpled foil and paper though, still repressed things that I couldn’t/wasn’t able to deal with at the time. Either because I didn’t know how to process it, or because it just wasn’t the time to do so. 

Time passed and the hand continued to guide me and shield me. And I relied on that hand. Relied on that hand a little too much, because the hand was always willing to take over for me, answer questions. Helicopter in a way. 

When I was 24, the hand began to fade again. Complications arose. We had hope. My dad knew better though. He stayed silent, while my sister and I tried to work things out. He saw what would come. 

At 25, things became worse. She could barely move. She was in and out of the hospital until October, where she stayed in the hospital. My father didn’t say much. We visited. My sister found out what was going on and immediately flew back home in November and stayed with us for the next few months.

December of 2018. Four days after Christmas. Everything fell apart. Further complications happened and my sister and I met my father at the hospital. Decisions were made. And I watched as my hand, my guide, was taken off life support. Minutes passed, feeling like hours. I watched her struggle to breathe. I watched and waited, hoping it would end soon, please, for the love of god let it stop, let this last gasp be the final one. I wish they had kept the heart monitor hooked up. The memory of that beep would have probably kept me up at night, but at the time I didn’t care. It would have cut down on the guessing, the waiting. That beep would have let me know that that final breath WAS the final breath, and wouldn’t have left me standing there and hoping another didn’t come. I’ve only told one other person this story. Anyone else who knows what actually happened only knows because they were in that room when it happened. 

I went to Facebook. And let those who were my friends know what happened. It. Was. A. Mistake. Immediately people rushed to try and take the pieces that I had become, flying from left and right and offering, offering, offering to put me back together. I didn’t have many friends growing up. And this many people coming to me and thinking they could take the broken pieces and push me back together was too much. 

I disappeared from social media. All that time I spend on Facebook shitposting was gone. Every so often I’d try to come back. Only for people to come rushing again and unintentionally driving me away. I don’t know how to open up to others. I don’t know how to tell people what’s going on with me. I don’t know how to tell them that I just don’t have the emotional or mental energy anymore. 

Monotony is the mind killer, and escapism is one hell of a drug. Both put together is a disaster waiting to happen.

I tried to bond with the other hand in my life, the one I usually shied away from because of differing ideas. But I didn’t want to push this hand away. So I forced together two puzzle pieces that have similar edges but aren’t MEANT to be shoved together. And I held them together with silence and passive behaviors. Hoping that this one wouldn’t see past the cracks, past the glue, and see how much these pieces AREN’T supposed to be forced together that way. Because I’d rather have a fucky puzzle than a completely unfinished one. I’d rather have one less person trying to put pieces back.

I made the mistake of saying that I don’t know how to talk to others. He asked me that evening if I didn’t feel like I could talk to him. I lied through my teeth and just said that I don’t really have anything to talk about. Because that’s how the papers work. I crumble them until the words are unintelligible anymore and I don’t know how to speak them outloud. And the papers that aren’t fully crumpled, are still able to be somewhat legible, I refuse to speak the words on them. Because then I would be seen different. If I was even looked at at all anymore at that point.

I continue to make papers and aluminum foil. Because that’s all I know how to do anymore. I don’t know how to show others what’s on that paper. I don’t know how to let others try to put pieces back together the right way. I never liked asking for help in the past, always would rather work by myself than in a group. And so many people flooding to me in some rush to help was just too much. It’s still too much. 

A lot of the time I don’t have the mental energy to do much, other than to go through the motions. Because the motions are comfortable. They’re reassuring. They don’t change and cause issues. The motions are dangerous. 

They cause me to get TOO caught up in them and keep my mental energy down. I don’t speak to much of anyone now. Probably a trait that’s slowly sunk in from the other puzzle piece. And I hate it. 

The reason I don’t reach out to others or get back to others is because I’m still too overwhelmed. I’m still too drawn into the comfort of the monotony and the motions. I still think of them. I still think of you. But I don’t know how to talk anymore. Not full on like I used to. And as more time passes, even if I grow comfortable again, I’m afraid to reach back out. Because too much time has passed. And I know it’ll only get worse if I continue, like a healing wound that I just SCRATCH at instead of putting a bandage over it and moving on with taking care of it. But I can’t stop scratching it. Because I’m afraid of what would happen if I did stop. If I did reach out after so long of silence.

I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m trying to explain what’s going on with my head and why I grow silent sometimes. It’s not because I don’t want anything to do with you. It’s NOTHING like that. Sometimes I’m just took drawn into that dark corner, buried underneath paper and tin foil. I’m hoping to be better one day. I”m hoping that a time will come where I can speak out about how I feel, about what’s going on with me. Hoping that I can openly say what’s on my mind without hiding behind a screen and anonymity. 

Until then. I’m sorry. 

Please don’t stop trying to reach out. I still think of you and everyone else. But I just don’t have the mental energy to respond most times. Some days are better than others, but the wound of ‘what if’ and shame keeps me away most times. 

I don’t know how to describe my mental state or mental scape. Other than it’s fucky, and dark, and wishes me to fall into easy comforts if only for a bit of peace. 

*writes for a solid half an hour* Me: Oh, that looks like a nice length, we’re getting somewhere, we’re getting somewhere. Hell, even the scroll bar has popped up at this point. *checks spelling and word count on word counter* Me: ONLY 948 words?! What the hell!? I thought we had something! I thought we had a meaningful connection! Why must you hurt me!?

Back to the writing grindstone....

I’ve trained myself so harshly to come into work even when I’m not feeling well, that I had to literally talk myself into calling off tonight. Despite my stomach threatening heinous acts against me personally as well as a nasty ass migraine.

Even after calling off, I’m stil like, “I’ve made a terrible mistake. Why did I do that? Maybe I could have pushed through...” I say to myself, while holding a sick bag....

To whoever thought of adding mole crickets to ACNH; I hate you and I hate your creation.

Not only are they problematic for those hard of hearing/deaf, but I literally considered digging up an ENTIRE mystery fricking island to make it impossible for them to spawn every time I stopped finding tarantulas, only to put in headphones and hear that INSUFFERABLE CHIRPING.

Me: I should REALLY start working on typing my next chapter of Outbreak, it’s been almost three months since I updated

Me: *three hours later* anyway, this is my shitty, rough drawing of my Yu-Gi-Oh self insert. He was someone I thought was a clever idea, only to find out recently that his character arc was literally already fucking done by a manga-exclusive character. There is honestly no purpose whatsoever for this guy, but he will continue to be my go-to for the next month and a half anyway.

Me: ... fuck. 

I got super hype when I saw that the new Pokemon TCG set releasing in Japan is, not only coming out in less than two weeks, but is also CHOCK FULL of shiny Pokemon.

My brain was all, “Holy shit! It’s Ultra Shiny 2.0, and I’ll finally get hype for a set release in English for the first time in forever!”. Until I saw that they had ANOTHER FUCKING SHINY CHARIZARD in the gorram set. And my brain immediately went back to thinking about the nightmare that was Hidden Fates. 

I guarantee. That this set isn’t going to come to English release until this time NEXT year, where once again you can only get sets through promotional items. And everyone will be buying everything as soon as it come out and upselling it online. Just like the past two years. All because of that false dragon that has too much of a following. 

I’m tired...

It is currently almost 12pm, and I should be sleeping for work tonight. But I’m tired and loopy and just can’t get to sleep

So, uh, before I (hopefully) fall asleep, who wants to see some cruddy Left 4 Dead or Kingdom Hearts GMVS that I made with Movie Maker when I was a dumb teenager?

My new third shift co-worker randomly asked me today if I go to church. I plainly told him no, I do not, hoping to leave it at that. When he asked why not (dude, I work third shift, just because you’re happy to follow up hours of work with hours of religion instead of getting that sweet, sweet sleep doesn’t mean everyone is), I had to resist the GIGANTIC urge to reply with, “Because I’m a practicing pagan and anytime I step into a church I get physically ill.”

Like bro, I grew up in a town of less than 2,000 people that had five different churches. FIVE. Do you know how many Apostolic Christians I saw on the daily? One of my boyfriend’s classmates was in an arranged marriage.

Like. I don’t have a huge problem with religion, but certain ones get me hella salty and I don’t appreciate being asked why I don’t follow in with the overly practiced ones.

Also I am not actually pagan, but my sister is and she tried to get me into it years ago. I’m mostly agnostic. That urge to just see his reaction to the idea was almost too much though.

Also I had a very realistic dream where I was being burned at the stake once so that was fun. One of the more widely known ACs in my town also told my mother she should get a prayer group together when I used to get nasty migraines, as if that would actually help.

Anytime I feel concerned about my writing and stories not being all that great, I remind myself that My Immortal exists, and feel a little bit better about myself and my stupid plot lines. 

I just realized how much my sister’s work in special effects make-up ended up kinda messing me up. 

Sure, I’ve assisted in making ~150 gallons of fake blood with her, and she’s definitely inspired me to try out my own special effects make-up work with myself, but tonight was an... interesting wake-up call. 

I’m not that great with cooking, and most of the things that I DO make are usually from pre-made mixes anyway, or following extremely simple instructions on the back of a chocolate chip bag. Despite this, I love watching ‘How to Cook That’ on YouTube, just as a fun time-passer and to see what she comes up with.

tonight was different though. She was doing some sugar bowl experiments based on questions that commenters had left on her last sugar bowl video, and one of which is making giant ones with normal balloons instead of water balloons. Her first attempted ended up popping due to the heat of the sugar on the balloon, causing a GIANT spatter of hot sugar. And my brain INSTANTLY thought, “I would LOVE to see a spatter effect of fake blood with that method!”

Which caused me to pause. Because that’s just. Kinda weird. I’m now going to be sending said video to my sister, time-stamp the moment along with my previously mentioned thought, and tell her, “look what you’ve done to me.”

My co-worker: (to me, possibly jokingly, possibly serious) You’re a serial killer. I’m sure you’ve murdered someone at some point

What he knows about me and bases this on: I once said I have large trunk space big enough for a body (as a cosplayer, I need a large trunk space to fit multiple outfits/props, and I’m amazed the Sonic has such trunk space. The body concept is the easiest way to compare just how large the trunk space is); I came to work with a giant maglight flashlight for patrols, stating I had it in my car; my sister is a special fx artist and I told the story of the gallon of red food coloring that opened in her car’s trunk and stained the carpet blood red; a few other spare things here and there that aren’t all that major

What he doesn’t know about me that would make the fire a burning inferno: I sleep with knives in my bed’s frame (some person was being hella creepy to me, knows where I live, and I’m just wanting to be prepared for ‘small town creepy shit’); I have a home made scythe that was gifted to me hanging off the back of my bedroom door; I once googled “how long does it take for blood to dry” for the purpose of a story I’m writing; I broke a heavy duty, wooden competition bo-staff to splinters after smacking it against a tree to let off some steam (the boyfriend wanted me to de-stress and handed me the already somewhat damaged weapon to smack it around a little. He didn’t expect the destructive results); dapper cadaver is an amazing site for those into special effects/the macabre/just like creepy stuff, from which I would buy SO many things if they weren’t all hella expensive.

I just find it humorous that he makes all of these comments (to the point where it’s a joke for all of us on second/third shift) yet hasn’t even scratched the surface of how actually creepy I could be if I wanted to really make him paranoid