Journal - Blog Posts
Angels & Demons
As you know, you will only see an angel or demon several times in your life. Perhaps a black spot at the corner of your eye causes you to crash into mailbox. Or maybe you'll see a soft mote of light hover over your friend when they pass a test they didn't study for. Collectives are rarer; meeting one is a once in a lifetime opportunity.
In Misery, they are an integral part of life. No one has ever gone a day without seeing an angel or a demon; some even follow people around at two or three at a time (the townsfolk call these Collectives, fittingly, familiars). And there are enough Collectives at a large enough volumes to be considered citizens; Angel and Demon Collectives make up 2% of the town population, and there's even a business completely run by Demon Collectives. (All human employees are required to be possessed--I'm not sure why, but Micah thinks its so the Demons can practice possession).
As a newcomer, it was a bit....overwhelming. I have only seen three Demons before coming to Misery, and they were all motes. To have clouds of these creatures flying around was an....expirience. Further study is required--no one has seen this many Collectives in one area. It's unprecedented.
It's like something in the town is attracting them....
Today In Misery
As you remember, Colem Arth died from a cougar attack.
Well today, he walked into class, perfectly fine. Now, I know what I saw. There's no way he could be alive, walking, or even in...one piece.
Yet, there he was. Laughing and joking, as usual.
When 5th period came around, a piece of rebar came through the window and stabbed him through the heart, killing him instantly. While my classmates were shocked, they treated the incident mostly as a nuisance, rather than the tragic event I saw it as. They mostly tried to figure out how Colem managed to "pull that off".
I was sent to the guidance counselor after the incident. Despite being a literal anteater in glasses, Mr. Lingua was good at his job.
Today In Misery
The cougar came back today. This time, it had stayed past sunset, so everyone was forced to spend the night. Luckily, the staff stocks sleeping bags for this very scenario.
I was given a good glimpse at why no one is called to deal with the cougar whenever it shows up. One student, I believe his name is Colem Arth, came to MSAA late, and was immediately attacked by the lion.
I will spare the gory details, but let it be known that my hands shook as I typed this, and I didn't get any sleep that night.
Several dogs tried to attack the cougar, only to meet the same fate as Colem Arth. In fact, the only thing that went out into the courtyard and survived was Principal Lee Anders, who decided to wear a jester hat today. He was too far for me to see what he was doing, but he came straight to the cougar and touched it. When he left, he held 8 bloody cougar paws. Where he got them from, I don't know. The cougar still had all its paws, since it walked away fine come sunrise.
The school gave us the next three days off due to the incident.
Today in Misery
As school ended and all of the students left their respective buildings, a murder of crows descended and swarmed around a random student, carrying her away. No one seemed to register what was happening, even as she struggled and and kicked and screamed for help.
When I asked Julia what the fuck just happened, she informed me "That's just Margo. This happens every day."
Mists of Misery 2
Dear Readers, I have made a breakthrough in my study of the mists.
A classmate of mine, named Julia, mentioned a friend of hers named Cynthia. She went missing a month before I came into town, and right before her disappearance, she was suddenly overcome with a desire to study the mists.
When Julia heard about what I was doing, she gave me Cynthia's notebook, as a warning and a message, to get word out about her friend's disappearance.
Cynthia's notebook doesn't contain much; however, she attributes much of the strange behaviors of the mists to an entity she had seen within them. Appearing every night at midnight, this "Man in The Mists" appears to generate the mists, and prowls within them, watching, yet unseen. According to the notebook, it is guessed that he cannot see or move outside of the mists, as the Man avoided random holes within the mists, one of which happened to capture Cynthia's house the night she saw the Man. There is little information beyond that [she gives wildly different explanations for what he could be, amongst which a god, a fey, a monster, and an incomprehensible alien are given]. The book ends a night before Cynthia vanished, in which she states that she intends to meet and/or capture the Man in the Mists.
And so, dear readers, two questions arise with this new information: who is the Man In The Mists? And where is Cynthia Jennings?
The Mists of Misery
Misery was built somewhere on the Northern Rock Coast [not on the Horn, but close], and has two beaches--the aptly named Rock Coast to the west, which despite consisting of broken and shattered stones, remains evermore popular than the Sand Coast to the south. And maybe the town's proximity to the ocean can explain away the daily presence of the all consuming mists...but that doesn't explain its, dare I say, predatory behavior.
In Misery, every night from sunset to approximately six in the morning, pure white mist blossoms from the center of the town and engulfs everything. My neighbors claim that the mists are searching for something, but exactly what, they aren't sure.
My first night in Misery, I watched the mists' approach. It did not float, or hover, or even roll over the dimly lit streets. No, these mists slithered; they snaked over the asphalt and concrete, prowling, -watching-. As I stared, I could tell that the mists weren't vapours. They were....ethereal. The mists were barely real--they were like an optical illusion, or as if something flat suddenly decided it didn't want to be anymore, and actively fought to become 3 dimensional.
As I watched, a sharp pain grew in the back of my head. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them--my mind was trying to cope with the fact that this thing that defied the laws of physics sat before my very eyes. And as I stared, I felt something, deep within the mists, stare back.
I ran away that night, and only watched the mists from the safety of my room. But I wasn't safe; as long as those mists were there, no one was safe.
No one spoke of the mists. None of my teachers would talk about it; the library didn't have an in depth study on them. They were simply a fact of life--the mists had been here since when Misery was just a small collection of hamlets, and probably before then.
No one would explain why the mists came from the center of town, which happened to be the center of Misery's School of All Ages courtyard, instead of rolling in from the oceans. And no one would explain how they both had and lacked substance at the same time. And their eyes averted when I asked about the watching, and the hunting. They winced when I compared the mists to a predator in wait.
The message was clear.
No one talked about the mists.
The Town Called Misery 2
Now....let me tell you about where I live.
I live in the Avery Ward, to the South East of Misery. It's...a trailer park. The neighborhood comprises of mobile homes, abandoned metal barns, and ruined or half built gas stations and strip malls, of which only three are functional. The sky in the Avery District was a muted grey [a deviation of the perpetual white sky in Misery, instead of the normal blue]. The neighborhood was dreary...but it was also full of -life-. The people here were happy, there was almost no crime, and the community here was much closer to each other than in the other wards.
My neighbors include Oisin, who lives in the shed next to our trailer. He always wears a skirt, and gives really bad life advice. The Sisters of Clemency live next to him; they're all nuns from the Houses of Ten (there are 8 of them; the other two live in their temples, as their doctrine dictates). All of them are super nice, and only Charity, who follows Astros, tries to convert me.
Behind us lives Anthony and Aiseline. They're a couple in their mid 60s who, despite mirroring each other, aren't related but are married. They claim to be able to speak to vehicles, but say that lawn mowers and pogo sticks can't talk and aren't alive.
Next to them lives Whistle. Whistle is pretty ordinary looking, but is also very open about his profession in the buying and selling of drugs. The police keep catching him, but he always gets out within a few hours. How? He won't tell me; he just winks, then takes a hit of whatever he bought.
The crown jewel of my neighbors, though, is a boy by the name of Micah Prince. He's a junior at MSAA, and his brother Enos is a sixth grader. Micah Prince is infamous; what for, though, no one will tell me. When prompted, they ask me if I know "What the Blood Parade is"; when I told them that I didn't, they immediately clammed up. I would have asked him myself, but every time the thought crossed my mind, I would freeze, or the hair on my arms would rise. -This is a very bad idea-, my body would tell me. And so, even though he was in five of my classes, I never said a word to him.
Of note, though, there is one other person in his trailer other than his mom and his brother. A meek, small girl who was about my age; she seemed familiar, but I didn't know why...
The Town Called Misery, 1
Let me tell you about where I live.
According to town history, Misery used to be a collection of four hamlet sized colonies, each founded by one of the four sons of Finely Misery. Because of the loss of Finely's will, the four hamlets essentially ostracized each other for a few decades until the arrival of something records call "Winter".
There is no description of what Winter actually is; all that is said is that Winter was a devastating blow to resources, and forced the four colonies to band together for survival. When Winter ended, the four colonies remained banded, and thus Misery was born.
Despite the town's supposed unity, remnants of its time as hamlets is still prevalent to this day. Four wards, or neighborhoods, each named after the four brothers, make up Misery. These wards are scattered and an organized mess, even within themselves. Even with the roads and community centers placed in between each ward, entering another neighborhood was basically like entering another city.
The only truly neutral place between each ward was the Misery School for All Ages. Equidistant from every ward, it was the center of town, and every child in Misery was enrolled there, from pre-K to Senior year. Almost like a reflection of the town, the school was actually made up of several buildings of various sizes, thrown almost haphazardly on it's hill without any rhyme or reason. The only consistent building was administration, a building the size of a trailer at the bottom of the hill. Everything else is thrown to the wind--you can have science in building J class 7 one day, and the next J7 is reserved for advanced algebra, or theoretical transmuatiom, or lenormand.
And that's just the mundane oddities. One rule of the school is that you can't look in the space in the doorframe; Principal Lee Anders even employs hall monitor like figures to prevent students from doing specifically that, who are recognizeable by the red armbands that they wear. Of note: I -did- witness a custodian slip some raw meat into the space though.
A daily event at MSAA is "Puma Time". Every building goes on lock down while a mountain lion, from Gods know where, prowls around the campus. This can last anywhere between half an hour to an entire day; in the event of the latter, guardians are called and the situation is explained. Either way, classes can't continue until the puma leaves of its own volition.
Beyond the events, such as the sudden screaming from the next room over that was suddenly cut short, and the third grader who levitated four feet off the ground for an hour [she's okay; she was unconscious the whole time], the faculty and students only add to the strangeness. One boy who shares two classes with me and refuses to give his name is always drenched--always. Hours will pass, and yet he will always appear to have just crawled out from the ocean. A custodian has to follow him around for all the puddles he leaves. Another boy, who appears to be the drenched boy's brother, always wears welding gloves. He wore them even when he helped the pre-K kids with finger painting.
A girl who had slit pupils and a tail [a real tail--she says she has Irre's Disorder] had showed me around campus. She waved to a girl who had deer eyes [the girl constantly smiles and spoke in riddles] and even introduced me to her brother, a boy who had turquoise hair and a slab of lapis lazuli in place of a tongue. Their names are Meiriam and Constant Lee Anders; they were the principal's kids.
Principal Lee Anders was a magician--through sleight of hand, he pulled a coin out of my ear. Then he turned the coin into glass, shattered it, and melted the shards into a flower shape using only his mind. Principal Lee Anders kept half mentioning events that hadn't happened [amongst which involved the time that Puma Time would happen that day, his daughter tripping over a loose floorboard, and a teacher by the name of Mr. Slins having his desk spontaneously combust. The last of these had no obvious causation, but it happened anyways] and claimed that the moon was his child. I was speechless when I left his office. More so when those events actually happened.
Here goes nothing...
My name is Story Page.
It has been three months since my family relocated to Misery, a town sequestered somewhere in the Northern Rock Coast.
And I will be the first to say it--this town should not exist.
Misery is a hub of supernormal activity. Danger stalks the night, and bloodsuckers watch their prey from the shadows. Spirits and invisible men walk amongst bakers and businessmen. Anything can be anything, and nothing is as it seems.
Out of the ordinary events happen on an hourly basis, and yet the townfolk are not only completely aware of this, they have embraced this.
Unfortunately, no one has ever tried to explain this weirdness; they've made their peace with and grown up with it.
So I've taken it upon myself to look at this town with fresh eyes. Through study and interviews, I will share what I've learned with you. Ask me anything; as long as the information gets out to the rest of the world, nothing is off limits.
The term "conscious" refers to the awareness and understanding of one’s own existence and feelings. I recognize that I can pursue and achieve my most passionate and seemingly unattainable dreams. It is essential to acknowledge this power within myself.
I often find myself puzzling over what the right choices are. I understand that human DNA grants us the capacity to make mistakes, allowing us time to reflect on what went wrong.
However, my mind tends to switch back and forth between fear and the overwhelming possibilities of scenarios in which I might feel eternally ashamed of myself.
In conclusion, I affirm that I am indeed a conscious individual.
smoke and mirrors
i want you to make me pretty
unmake who i was beneath your hands
take all my soft parts and sharpen me
press me to you to find no curved edge
i want you to push down where it hurts
i want you to yield me a secret
you can’t break something already broken
i already know you'll never keep it
don’t ask to know me,
go on, make me anew
see me where no one has seen
i can pretend i was what you drew
look in the places that matter the least,
lick the tears from my cheeks and bite down
strip me to skin to skin, but
there will always be space, no matter how thin
i want you to taste me
take a day or two to wash the scent
miss me when i’m gone; won’t you?
convince me not to pretend
it isn’t kind, is it? to yourself, nor i
making mirrors and posing and refracting light
you can try, but we’ll never see eye to eye
even when silk drape isn’t on your mind
smoke and mirrors, painful prayer, nothing to see
you will never make a beggar of me
On 1/14/25 I wrote:
I run from my problems. I run and I run and I run and I never stop. And yet my legs never move. My arms never lift. I run away so far and yet I dont move a muscle. I block out my brain from my body, my body from the world, and I try not to exist. As I like to think that I would do anything to want to exist, all I really do is try not to exist. I say I want to feel better. I say I want to be able to trust myself, to love myself, and yet I work so hard in the opposite direction. I try so hard not to exist and I am constantly convincing myself I am trying to achieve the opposite. I want nothing other than to create and yet I never create. Because deep down truly, a part of me knows that I will never create all that I want and maybe, I never wanted to create in the first place.
On 5/12/25 I write:
I wanted to create today and I did. Today deep down and truly a part of myself knew I wanted to create all along. I stopped trying so hard to exist and I achieved the opposite, I existed and I created. I loved myself and I ran to that love. Amongst the blocks and the problems and the troubles I moved a muscle and I ran and I ran and I ran. I didn't even realize I was running but I was. I was running towards joy, existence and creation. And it is something quite beautiful.
N☆U-RCHIVE! - (01.2022)
i'm gonna start this archive, so that i can look back and see how much i've progressed academically.
this was a mini-task i had during a nation-wide holiday project sort of thing. i had to make a journal with the prompts 'i'm remarkable because..' and 'perspective'. didn't win best journal entry, but i had quite some fun.
episode one of me posting polcos i made months ago because i haven't deco-ed in a very long time 🤠
another one of my insta reposts <3
giyuu overload ft. my prints
reposting some pics from my instagram!! (>_<;=;>_<)
I miss college?
I don’t really know what day of lockdown it is, i stopped keeping track a while ago.
As a sci background student who shifted to arts in college, I can confirm, that college is easier than school, anything at that level is easier than 6 hour school then 6 hour of coaching, intermediate was a nightmare filled with sleep deprivation, depression, anxiety and stress,maybe that made transition to college easier.
In quarantine, like a looser, i miss the all nighters, the sleep deprivation, the ungodly amount of caffeine, the awful food, the too chirpy in ungodly hours classmates, the really torturous classes, dumb friends who are not really close friends cuz ur in ur first semester.
Self Isolation
I don’t really get tumblr, but I’m about ready to tear my damn hair outta boredom, really need something to do with my fingers and this, has still got more appeal to it than my long reading list and huge pile of assignments, that I can’t bring myself to even look at.
So, college kicked us out about three days ago, the Covid-19 outbreak is forcing the Government to close down everything, my Sunday entrance exam just got postponed, and they’ll probably be having a public curfew that day. I read today, that the last pandemic was the ‘Spanish flu’, it killed about 50 million people after the end of the first world war in 1918, more than a century ago, but it wasn’t this widespread...
Apparently its too contagious, and anyway, its a bit understandable, it is difficult for humans to live without contact, but what I don’t get is why the hell are people still travelling?, like seriously ”Oh yeah ! its a global pandemic, I hear its great for vacation” they’re finding British tourists that are tested positive in Kerala.
At home, you can feel the trepidation, the worry, the fear that an uncertain future brings but things still hold normalcy, its still home except for a few laws- ‘no friends‘ ‘wash hands more often‘ ‘be good, stay home‘ ‘and for god’s sake take a shower.’ All we want is the time to pass, and this shit storm to get over with, but fact remains that we’re barely at the first stages of this crisis.
What would living in the middle of world wars must’ve felt like, what would’ve Anne Frank felt like hiding in Amsterdam, hiding to survive? We’re not having aerial bombings and no genocidal maniac is killing people, so its a gross comparison but we’re hiding and isolating ourselves to stay safe as well.
Not thinking much about it helps.....
first page of my first art journal 🕸️
Khun & Bam Anime Journals
I've been wanting to make these for literally six years now and I finally did it!!
I did go a little sticker crazy but I love themmm
(hehehe my bois)
Also I'm discovering how much I love my golden sparkly washi tape specifically
Here it is, the start of my anime/webtoon journaling phase.
The binding of the notebook was a little loose and a page fell out, so after I got it back in I got some bracelet string and tied it up. I think it'll stay in now~
Harumi my baby, my gender envy, I have you on a notebook now.