jillianwu
Personal blog // shenanigans
35 posts
Latest Posts by jillianwu
Yeah my babe has grown ass built is tall and has triceps but is still scared of his mom at 27. ffs
i don't know who needs to hear this, but you're allowed to gain weight in your twenties. you are a grown ass adult now. your body can and should not be the same as it was at seventeen. allow it to grow along with you <3
Well I am not in good terms with my boy
maybe you’re not up to having a good day, so just have a day.
stay alive, wake up, breathe. eat and drink and rest.
just exist.
have a day.
Carissa Potter Carlson
“Accept how you feel but don’t let feelings rule you. You are in control. You are not their slave.”
— Unknown
Almost every occurence in my dreams turns out a real event in my life. How come?
Best of Edgar Allan Poe 🤍💯
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
love
Concept
08
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“Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such?”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
understanding
Concept
09
Share
“And this I did for seven long nights—every night just at midnight—but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
work
ᐧ
procrastination
Concepts
10
Share
“I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
humor
ᐧ
pity
Concepts
11
Share
“I smiled—for what had I to fear?”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
fear
ᐧ
nervousness
Concepts
12
Share
“It was a low, dull, quick sound – much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
sounds
Concept
13
Share
“And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel – although he neither saw nor heard – to feel the presence of my head within the room.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
perceptions
Concept
14
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“A watch’s minute hand moves more quickly than did mine.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
time
Concept
15
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“True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
nervousness
Concept
16
Share
″ Almighty God!—no, no! They heard!—they suspected!—they knew!—they were making a mockery of my horror!—this I thought, and this I think.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
fear
ᐧ
nerves
ᐧ
worried
Concepts
17
Share
“It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
thoughts
Concept
18
Share
“And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the sense?”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
madness
Concept
19
Share
“And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it – oh so gently!”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
secrets
ᐧ
quiet
Concepts
20
Share
“All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim.”
Edgar Allan Poe
Author
The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings
Book
death
ᐧ
darkness
Concepts
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💯
Friedrich Nietzsche
Most of the time I'd like to trade mental discomfort with physical pain.
Vintage illustration of Fingerprint Patterns. Fingerprints have been collected, observed and tested as a means of unique identification of people for more than 100 years. The two basic ideas scientists believe about fingerprints are: 1. Fingerprints never change. Small ridges form on a person’s hands and feet before they are born and do not change for as long as the person lives. 2. No two fingerprints are alike. The ridges on the hands and feet of all people have three characteristics (ridge endings, birfurcations and dots) which appear in combinations that are never repeated on the hands or feet of any two people. In the over 140 years that fingerprints have been routinely compared world wide, no two areas of friction skin on any two people (including identical twins) have been found to contain the same individual characteristics in the same unit relationship. This means that in general, any area of friction skin that you can cover with a dime (and often with just a pencil eraser) on your fingers, palms, or soles of your feet will contain sufficient individual characteristics in a unique unit relationship to enable positive identification to the absolute exclusion of any other person on earth.
Weakening Memories of Crime through Deliberate Suppression
There are some bad memories — whether of a crime or a painful life event — that we’d rather not recall. New research shows that people can successfully inhibit some incriminating memories, reducing the memories’ impact on automatic behaviors and resulting in brain activity similar to that seen in “innocent” participants.
The research is published in Psychological Science, a journal of the Association for Psychological Science.
“In real life, many individuals who take memory detection tests want to distort their results. Using a lab-based crime simulation, we examined whether people can indeed suppress guilty memories and avoid detection,” explains lead researcher Xiaoqing Hu of the University of Texas at Austin. “Our study indicates that suppression can be effective in certain ways, helping us to limit unwanted memories’ influence over our behavior.”
Hu conducted the study when he was a Ph.D. student at Northwestern University with colleagues Zara M. Bergström of the University of Kent and Galen V. Bodenhausen and J. Peter Rosenfeld of Northwestern University.
The researchers recruited 78 undergraduate students and randomly assigned them to one of three groups. Two of the groups, both “guilty” groups, were instructed to find and steal a particular object from a faculty member’s mailbox. The object was actually a ring, but the word “ring” was never mentioned in the instructions. This was to ensure that any evidence of ring-related memories would be the result of committing the actual crime and not from listening to the instructions.
A third group, the “innocent” group, was told to go to the same area and simply write their initials on a piece of poster board.
Some of the guilty students were then told that they shouldn’t allow memory of stealing the ring come to mind at all during the following concealed-information test (CIT) — that is, they were instructed to suppress the memory. The other guilty students and the innocent students were not given any suppression instructions.
The three groups completed a CIT, a brainwave-based test that can be used to evaluate whether an individual has specific knowledge suggesting involvement in a crime. On each trial, participants were presented with either the target item (e.g., the word “ring”) or one of six crime-irrelevant items (e.g., “bracelet,” “necklace,” “watch,” “cufflink,” “locket,” “wallet”) while their brain activity was recorded using EEG. The researchers were specifically interested in looking at the P300, a brainwave that indicates conscious recollection.
The students also completed an autobiographical Implicit Association Test (aIAT) in which they had to indicate whether specific statements were true or false. Response times on the aIAT are thought to reflect the strength of a particular association — the faster the response, the more strongly held that association is, regardless of the person’s explicitly stated thoughts and feelings.
As expected, the researchers found that the guilty participants showed significantly larger P300 responses to the target than to the irrelevant stimuli — but only if they hadn’t been given instructions to suppress memories of the crime.
Those who suppressed crime-related memories showed no difference in P300 activity between the two types of stimuli, resulting in data that were indistinguishable from those of innocent participants.
In addition, suppressed-memory participants were also less likely than the other guilty participants to associate crime-related memories with the truth on the aIAT. However, the data suggested that guilty-suppressors could still be identified via another brainwave, known as the late posterior negativity.
Together, the findings suggest that memory suppression dampens neural activity associated with retrieving memories and also limits the influence of these memories on automatic behavioral responses.
The researchers are planning on exploring this memory suppression effect further, investigating whether it might be applied to other types of personally significant memories.
“For example, we can all recall times when we hurt others or behaved inappropriately and these memories can carry feelings of guilt and shame. Can we suppress these kinds of memories, and what are the consequences of such suppression?” says Hu.
While traumatic memories may seem like an obvious target for suppression, the researchers point out that these memories stem from emotional events involving strong physiological arousal and it’s unclear whether suppression would be effective in reducing their impact.
Chapter 1: Five Hours Before Death
“AMELIA!” My boss exclaimed as he walked over to my desk.
“Yes, sir, do you need something?” I say while still looking at my computer.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I need you to tell me about my agenda for this afternoon,” he says urgently while looking at his watch.
“Ah well, sir, you have a one-thirty meeting with one of the board of directors and a six o'clock dinner reservation with the misses” I told my boss while looking up at him.
My boss looks at me and says, “Before I leave for my one-thirty, I need you to come to my office; I need to speak to you about something urgent. Got it.”
“Yes, sir, I understand,” I say, confirming it.
‘What does he want to tell me? Oh, I hope it isn’t what I found out a few days ago,’ I thought as I looked back at my computer. Two days ago, I found out that my boss: Nicholas Anderson, had an illegal import business up and running. And in turn, he paid the mayor to keep quiet about everything. I shook those thoughts out of my head, focusing on my work.
Time flies by and now it is twelve-thirty. I get up from my desk and head to Mr. Anderson’s office on the next floor above. Walking over to the sliver elevator doors, you press one of the buttons on the wall next to the doors. The doors open, and you step in, turning around while the doors shut, pressing the button heading up to the next floor. Hearing the irritating music blaring into the rectangular box, the doors open; indicating, that I am on the next floor.
Walking up to his door, I knock, telling him that I am there. “Come in,” Mr. Anderson said. I open the door and walk into his office. Noticing a few pictures of his family here and there, he looked up from his computer.
“Ah, excellent timing Ms. Cameron; I was about to call you up,” Mr. Anderson said as he pushed himself up from his black leather chair, making eye contact with you.
“May I ask what this is about; you made it seem crucial,” I said looking curious but deep down I know what he may say.
“Uh, yes, I know that you found about my uh business. I must warn you if you tell the authorities or anyone for that matter, you might not get to be forty. Am I clear?” Mr. Anderson says
“Ye-ss, sir-r,” I said, fear plastered onto my face.
“Good, then you may leave.” I placed my hands onto the arms of the chair, pushed my legs up, feeling the pressure of standing. I leave the room and head back downstairs, thinking of what he was saying.
The day went by faster than the flash himself, a mixture of colors; pinks, oranges, and yellows stating that the sun is setting within the west. Shutting everything down and grabbing my purse and coat. I look down at my watch; which looks like it is from the nineties, and it reveals that it is 8:50 p.m. 'Huh has it been five hours already; who would have thought’ I left the gray building and straight to my 1999 navy blue chevy corvette. I slammed the car door closed as I sat down in the driver’s seat. I took out my keys from my purse so that I could start the engine. My keys have two keychains attached to them; one of them is a Slytherin crest, the other is a Gryffindor crest. I placed the keys into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life, I got strapped in and I reversed back into the parking lot to head the main road.
It did not take long for Amelia to get to her apartment. She pulled into the parking lot outside the complex, making sure she did not touch the curb, she turned off the engine and took the keys out of the ignition. She grabs her purse, slips her hand into door handle to open it. The door opens and she steps out into the crisp cold air. She steps onto the sidewalk and looks back to her car. Her car was shining from the light created by the lamp post. The wind blowing against her skin, the hair on her skin standing up and she gets a shiver crawling down her spine. Amelia did not pay attention to the ever-growing feeling within the pit of her stomach as she started climbing the stairs to the second floor.
I got to the top of the stairs of the second floor. I walked down the hallway a little bit to reach my apartment. It was about five minutes of walking; I reached my apartment: number 4. I looked over to my right and saw the door where my neighbor Minerva Barnes lives. 'She is such a sweet woman’ I thought as I grabbed my keys to unlock the door. I got my keys into the lock, and I unlocked the door. As I was stepping into my apartment, I am suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of dread; like I should not have entered the apartment. Due to the lights not working, it gave me an eerie and creepy feeling to the atmosphere of the apartment.
It kept getting stronger as I took off my coat, my shoes, and when I placed my keys into the tray. I turn around and locked the door. I went into the kitchen, grab a small glass from one of the cabinets, and went over to the sink to get water. Placing the glass down, I went to turn the faucet on when everything went black. What I did not know right now was that my time to pass on had come.
Opening my eyes, I squint at the moonlight shining through the teal curtains. I tried to move but could not. I looked down and saw my hands were bounded. I turned my head so that I can see my feet, turns out my feet were also bounded.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you” someone said while standing in the shadows.
“Who are you? Why are doing this?” I asked fear rising within me.
“Did you really think he wouldn’t know that you were gathering evidence to give to the police? I mean, Mr. Anderson knew that you knew about the business, so he made an educated guess, and what do you know he was right after all.” The figure said while chuckling slightly.
Fear took ahold of me once I realized what he was talking about. You see, I have been gathering up evidence on my boss. Apparently, he has been bribing the mayor to cover up his import business. I look back at the figure wondering who they are.
“Who are you?” I asked as I stare into the shadows.
“That is unimportant lady” he said while pulling something out of his pockets. I couldn’t tell what it was, but the feeling grew even more stronger as it was before. The figure then walks out of the shadows. His body was slightly brightened but you couldn’t make out his face.
Since you now have a semi-clear view of the man, you notice that he had a Glock 19 9mm Compact. Your grandparents taught you how to hunt and when you were older you went to the shooting range, so you know different types of guns. You watch as he loads ammo into the gun. You look back at the curtains taking in the light of the moon. Hearing footsteps behind you, you realize that the man had walked up to you from behind.
'This is it; this is how I go out, huh’ I thought as I felt the gun was placed on the back of my head. I opened my mouth tasting salt, which meant tears. I was so scared I didn’t realize that I was crying. The tears were flowing down my face at a rapid pace as the man pulled the trigger.
**BANG**
Amelia fell to the ground as blood flows out of her head. Blood spatters across the lightly colored walls and floors turning them crimson red. The man walks towards an open window. Putting the gun back into his pocket, the man got up onto the windowsill. The man looked back at the body, blood pooling around her and glistening in the moonlight. The wind blowing steadily as the man jumped out of the window and onto the pavement below. Walking away from the crime the man had just committed, he wore a sadistic smile on his face.
The Etiquette of Survival
This is the first four chapters of the book I’m working on. The book as a whole needs editing, but I’m searching for the write publisher company to query for submissions. These chapters would be the ambassador for the work I want to publish, but they need the most work at this point. Particularly chapter 03, which I’m not found of as material in later chapters has changed.
Salt and Feathers
Genre: grim dark
word count: 16,040
A Forensic Coroner is dragged into a world of political and supernatural elements, upon perceiving inconsistencies surrounding an influx of John and Jane Doe cadavers. Allegra Terrel must rely on the compliance of an inhuman supporter, and the deadly commissions he is assigned. If she hopes to achieve some semblance of normality, or survive at all, she must keep allies close and enemies closer.
01. A Cold Slab
The noxious scent of formaldehyde coiled around the lumpy white coat, saturating anything and everything porous. It wasn’t a bad scent but it was off-putting, particularly after a few days without a full on shower and grinding off the layers of perspiration buildup. It wasn’t a disposition the staff devoted itself to; after the first few dozen bodies came through, people stopped caring about their appearance. The few exceptions in the scenario being meetings and the sort.
The only reasonably slow period was the graveyard shift; the few hours that medical could catch up on the backlog of paperwork. The department sat square center of a large metropolitan, and there was no time of day when bodies weren’t being found or resurfaced by unsuspecting civilians. The winter months helped slow the inflow, though the dead didn’t roam.
Keep reading
Blood On The Wall
Prologue
It was no later than 1:00 AM when the sound of screams could be heard, the screams of a woman erupted from inside the house. The disheartening noise echoed through the corridors, crying out for help that hopefully would arrive. Sadly it wouldn’t. Her husband had been killed in his sleep, he’d gone out easily after being shot. A death fit for any corrupt politician who buried several scandals that couldn’t resurface. A killer who was as normal as normal could be walked out of the house satisfied with the outcome of his mission. Who knew someone like him would be capable of murder, no man on earth could walk as confidently as he did after committing such as heinous and grotesque crime.
The killer strides over to the car door preparing to dispose of the bodies. Of course he had come prepared, he had planned it from start to finish without resting. He himself had watched his two victims for weeks, along with hiring a private investigator who knew nothing of his intentions. It was gratifying when the investigator didn’t ask for a reason. It was making his part of the job so much easier, all he had to do was buy what was required in order to complete his endeavor.
Pulling a jerry can from the trunk, the mysterious figure walked back inside with the jerry can in tow. Sad really how this had to come to an end, even more so knowing that he couldn’t continue this little charade that had been going on for so long. Listening as the gasoline poured out of the can the man looked around the large living room, it was a shame that this had to be destroyed. It was a lovely home despite the awful smell coming from the bodies, at least that would be removed from the decor. The man poured a trail of gasoline from the living room back outside making sure the house would be swallowed in flames.
As the murderer began to light a match, he watched the flames dance before letting the match ignite the flammable liquid. It was so satisfying to watch the trail of gasoline being replaced by rising flames from the match. Waiting for the house to explode in flames was so avid, like the rush of adrenaline you have when waiting for the drop of a roller coaster.
The first section of the house to explode was the kitchen area, the force of the impact shattered the window above the sink. Another in the study upstairs, and in mere seconds the roof of the house was surrounded by flames. Walking away from the scene of the crime, the killer began to laugh thinking about the headlines for the News-cast.
‘Mountain Killer Strikes Again.’
Death and Decomposition: a handy guide for fellow crime (fic) writers
I decided to repurpose an old study guide I made for educational purposes because maybe some people will find this useful, or interesting at the very least! (Sorry about the American-English and Fahrenheit)
If the body is “limp”, how long has the person been dead? They will only be limp immediately after death (up to ~2 hrs) or very long after (nearly a day and a half). As for stiffness, complete rigidity doesn’t occur until ~12 hrs, and it doesn’t last very long before rigor reverses. Your characters can end up tearing muscles and breaking bones trying to force body parts in rigor to bend or move if they’re not careful enough because everything is very tense and rigid. Fingers will snap like twigs. Ever heard the expression “you’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands”? Yeah, it’s really not supposed to be easy.
Blood follows gravity! Livor is one of the first noticeable signs of death as in some cases it can begin as near as 30 minutes to 2 hours after death, before even rigor sets in. Has your body been moved before 6-8 hrs? The bruising likely won’t be uniform. Were they lying atop something? Objects can interrupt the bruising. Perhaps they were in a vehicle and the silhouette of a tire lever is visible. Clues! The color of the bruising can also help determine different types of poisoning.
Body temp can be tricky and unreliable at the best of times because there’s so many factors. I’ve been told it’s rarely used to exclusively determine TOD. The magic number is 3. Find three different ways to back up Time of Death. For example: if you’re using algor mortis, find two other indicators of time of death (livor, rigor, insect activity, scene markers). Most writers (myself included) avoid being specific about temperature because really, it can be hard. If you’re really keen on it though, I can show you a fairly simple way of calculating time of death based on temperature in average conditions. Just let me know.
The body is not going to look like a pristine preservation of a human being the whole time! They can’t just be pale and immobile. Other things happen. Was the body found in a river? A lake? It’s not going to be pretty. Adipocere is wild. There’s more to open eyes than just a hazy blue film. If it’s exposed to air and debris, you bet it’ll show. Tache noir can happen in ~7-8 hours. It looks vaguely terrifying if I’m honest. But hey, that’s life! Er, death, rather.
Basically, when you’re writing a crime scene and you want a model corpse with mobility and the fewest visible markers of decomposition, you only really have about 2 hours at most so plan your timeline accordingly if you’re counting on these things! Also, I know pallor mortis is a thing and I didn’t include it because it’s basically useless in determining TOD. Dead bodies get pale. That’s probably the one thing anyone knows. Anyway, happy writing!
Disclaimer: I am not an expert in the field! I’m still just a student. This is information accumulated over the course of my studies and has been reinforced by various sources, primarily my forensics teacher who spent years working in the field before moving to the classroom.
I wanna be found again.
Has lost my guns, You can’t redeem me
My breathe is tasteless. I am writing this from a life that is baseless. If no one hears me clearly, don’t worry for you don’t have to make effort, keep that with yourself & be happy. No one has to believe me either because this thing is something that not everyone can have a grasp for understanding. I’m not here to express or justify which is right or wrong. Uniquely, this varies person per person.
This is primarily unimaginable on my part since I don’t blame myself either for being the doer of this action. I try to detach and disassociate myself from my SELF. Does it make sense? Yeah, but even so I try my hardest to observe my “life” I still am dead inside out, If I were to attain lasting comfort by being one with the clouds, I will in a heartbeat. I can’t feel I have a symbiotic connection with any person, object, life event, whatever the universe has to offer. This endless struggle of life being unsupported by any single factor is a dark place no human should be in, or ever go through. It is like a constant state of obsession over nothing, leaves me crush myself in cruelty, leaving my nerves appalled, that I do not even want to gasp for that hissing breathe any longer.
Folks, my dearest ppl even when y’all left one by one through the years, we are still inseparable homies. I find this silly, I know that no one can’t ever read this piece of msg, but-- pls just know that
Mom, please don’t ever cry for me, or look for me
Just think of the times I angered you, and you’ll eventually forget me.
Don’t put me inside your heart, so there will be no sensation of pain. Go on with your life, relish and live it to the fullest with passion. Despite that, this girl may not be physically visible anymore, her living memory woulda be honored to see you in a good place. While I go my own way, By then I will just sleep longer.
I need a beauty rest too! Y’know?
Don't worry, hun. The Space Between Us Is only Temporary. We'll collide back again to each other's arms. For now, let us recover from our own crisis and issues until 100% we hit full on recharged and refreshment, then there comes our lovely moment together again. Love Awaits. Can't wait any longer. For Us
I'm coming there to touch you and snuggle up
Our real time is different similarly by how opposite the regions both of us came from. His crack of dawn was when my feet wide apart in extreme sound sleep, no signs of awakeness, not of a hiss of breath neither unconscious groans
He said he witnesses both the sunrise and sundown.
He, then could no longer watch a film-like state of dreams in slumber.
The dark couldn't look after his weary eyes, as his light coloured iris (chroma) rejects radiating the same old glow in such hypnotic glare
If I take a look closer at his eyes, there's barely sadness, happiness, or bubbliness of some sort. The night was robbed off his sleep wires in brain. Completely vanished. A boy of nocturne hours, night that's silent yet insane
M'boy stop playing games with me, ok?
'Cause I'm so fucking confused. I don't wanna waste a shit anymore
W-
Because of you
I feel alive inside.
Because of you too,
Pain and void creeping inside
00:10
Fuck.
Body positivity 💖
I just leave this here-
Bullshit. I fucking miss you babe.
Your presence and shit.
im getting that md after name, I promise
Im having withdrawals
Losin' expectations
But this feels quite normal
Soaked in your aroused smile
Seep into ur ecstatic veins
Hold my arms so tight to keep me sane
Im having withdrawals
Losin' expectations
But this feels quite normal
Sunk in your aroused smile
Seep into ur ecstatic veins
Hold my arms so tight to keep me sane
Tumblr of Happiness 💗
Luhan - Promises - SoundCloud
Listen to Luhan - Promises by Deyak Nisa on #SoundCloud
A refreshing synth pop perf for streaming at this houRawr #CpopSyndrome Definitely my #CpopCollection 我的心开心了
你那? 😘
大家好! 我很快乐. 💗