I'm broken, baby

I hate everything I've ever written.

...That's how I feel, now.

I hoped this wouldn't happen, and it's worse than I thought it could ever be. I put up a smile and nodded and responded kindly. But, looking back on it...I should've known better. It was bound to happen, with my mental record. My unstable mentality. All that my writing means to me...Why did it have to go this way? Is this some sort of fucking cosmic joke? 'Cause if it is, I refer you to this lovely entry from the BBTxx.

...And, so.

Around four, five—maybe even six days ago, I joined a writing critique site called Critique Circle. I'd heard of it, before. Had no plans on joining, but not for the reason I'm writing this pathetic entry. (It's not too late to stop reading.) Then, a day later, I joined another critique site called Scribophile. I honestly like Critique Circle better. Scribophile reminds me too much of a fanfiction site, so friendly and open and ripe for reading new, good shit ten times better than anything I've ever written...

CC is hard and cold. Greys and whites. Verdana. No Book Antiqua, there.

...Anyway.

These sites are both for helping writers become better writers. I knew that going in. I knew I could handle it; critique is what I always wanted for my stories. I need the help, and I've known it for a while, now.

Funny thing is, I never let any of the critique I've received get to me. Even if I didn't like it, I regarded the words carefully and took what good I could from it. Most of the time, if not all the time, people try to help.

...But apparently, I was wrong. You'd think I know myself better, by now...

There is a tit-for-tat system on both of these sites. You want critique? Critique in return. In fact, you have to critique first in order to post your own stories. I get that. It makes sense. It's so that no work is ignored and overlooked. Everyone gets a fair chance.

But the more I read other people's work, the more I learned about what to do, to improve, to change...something in me began to break.

Now, I can't write. I hate my stories. I hate my everything, more than I do, as it is (and since you don't know the scope of that, I now realize I have to make a suicide-laden future entry, soon). I can't begin to explain how devastating this is. I loathe my work. They're pointless, horrid, sad excuses for stories, and my words are shams of decent narration.

This is merely how I feel. I know this wasn't meant to be the outcome of this experience, and I know this can happen and does happen to...unseasoned, new writers...such as myself, apparently. But...

I don't know.

Something in me is devastated. Hurt. Angry. Why is my work not good enough? I worked so hard, for so many years. This is all my fault, in the end, I guess. I never ever wanted to pick up a formal writing course or anything like that, considering myself "good enough", if nothing else. Nothing bestseller-worthy. Nothing, maybe, even praiseworthy, in my neurotic eyes.

...But it was good enough for me.

Me. The one who mattered, at the end of the day.

I loved writing.

I was happy with my work.

I loved my work.

And hated it, but for different reasons; I could never finish them (like that has changed at all).

Now, I hate them because they exist and they came from me. Me, who should have known better and noticed these writing mistakes I've made over the past—hell, I don't know. 20 years? How long have I been writing? Since before I could write?

I wish I could wipe my slate clean. Erase my work over the past several years, erase them from my memory. I hate them. I hate them all. They didn't come from me. Me, who should have noticed something was off about the way I write. No passion, no life exists in my writing. And now....now it's so painfully obvious that's the case.

Fuck you; this isn't some wallow in self-pity. I have no pity reserved for me(i).

None.

This is rage. This is anger. This is hate. It's always been that way.

You have no idea.

...So, now, what? The past fuck-knows-how-many years have been a waste. Perfect. Start over. Get better.

But it hurts too much.

My characters are my children. I truly nurture them, want them to have worlds to thrive in. I can't just get rid of them. But the way my mind works...I don't know where to start, anymore. Every attempt to write or type, I cry, and I can't even stand to look at my words.

Something within me is in so much pain.

I don't know...I'm just...rambling...

I can't write, anymore. Not the way I could. Everything is now wondering if it's good enough, hoping I remembered this, remembered that, followed this rule, that rule, made sure I wasn't using this word too much, that word too much. It's not...it's not my freedom, anymore. My joy.

I hate writing.

I hate my writing. I hate my handwriting, too, but we won't go there.

If it was hurt from the critiques, I could handle that. But this...this is a nightmare. Wake me from this torture.

I just want to write, again.

I just want to have fun, again.

...This isn't the first time I've thought about this...but what if writing just...isn't for me? Hell, the amount of trouble I've had over the course of my existence just because of my writing...I could tell stories.

...if I could fucking write.

And here you are, probably thinking, "It's just a few days, dammit! What the hell are you crying for, you melodramatic child?!"

Yeah, well a few fucking days is too fucking long, in my book.

...Doesn't matter, anyway, eh? I guess I wasn't cut out for this writing gig...Shame I had to find out after wasting my entire life on false hope.

We'll see what happens next year...or some shit...

Until then...I now I have to remove all of my everything I ever wrote from my computer files and/or store away my old shit...

Happy fucking 2k18, guys. It's going to be a wonderful, swell new year.

I am done with this godforsaken one...

I Tell Stories

In this day and age of...political correctness...and all of that stuff that I legitimately don't understand, am mostly ignorant of and/or don't pay much attention to when it is in the media, I often find myself...conflicted...as an author/writer...wannabe novelist

Hear me out.

First and foremost, I am a storyteller.

I tell stories.

If it comes to me, however it comes to me, I will tell it. I understand many novelists/writers can come under criticism because of things they write. People begin to associate the content within a story to a person, personally, even when the person is a completely separate entity from the things they write! And I believe this with all my heart!

Now, in my case, I'm talking specifically about fiction. Non-fiction writers? Hell if I know. That's not my area of "expertise".

But fiction writers? Come on. Separate them from their work. We tell stories. The stories may be weird, dark, dangerous, aweing, sad, treacherous, deplorable—but they're not real. Nor are they reflections of ourselves.

What am I trying to get at with this...?

My story, Human Shed Skin, is such a perfect example of something I've been struggling with...for as long as I can remember. And I don't care how much you think you know me, nor do I care who you are: prepare to learn something new about lil' o' me(i).

...I really have to get this off my chest...

Nowadays, I see so many people who complain, rightfully, about the lack of representation and diversity—real, positive diversity—in the media. Books, TV shows, movies, you name it. Podcasts, radio, blogs, art, music, sports...It goes on and on.

Here's my story.

Growing up, it was never...so important to me that I saw people of my ethnicity, anywhere. Doing anything or everything. All that was important to me was being accepted for who I was, inside and out. I identified with and could relate to the strange people in the media, I liked the different people I saw in the media. That was good enough for me. For the most part.

This isn't to say I never reached out, wanted or looked for ethnic, dark-skinned or more relatable alternatives; I'll never forget the day I saw a Mermaid Barbie doll I wanted. I chose it and was about to leave the toy aisle....until I saw a brown-skinned mermaid doll. I DROPPED that light-skinned doll and ran away with the brown-skinned one like a miner who struck gold. I wish I kept that doll...because when the hell do you EVER see dark-skinned fricking mermaids?! I knew that, even back then! I was always very aware of the significance of such things!

Most of my childhood is blurry and dreamlike, anyway, so I'm actually the unreliable one as far as what I did is concerned. All I do vividly remember is how I felt, the things that went through my mind. The things I kept to myself...for so long...that are only coming out, today. Damn, have I been in the closet for too fucking long...

Fast-forward to my earliest remembered days of writing stories—actual stories. And what would you know. My favorite characters I wrote about...were not black. Were not dark-skinned. Hell, aside from the very early days when I was obsessed with romance fantasy stories, they weren't even girls.

They were all light-skinned guys.

And I was totally okay with that. Because I was writing a story. The way I saw it in my mind was the way I told it.

Did I mention, again, outside of that whole romance fantasy fiasco, the guys themselves were not heterosexual?...At all?

I had to change the character in some drastic way to either make them bisexual, or heterosexual. And I hated doing that, because I've been writing homoerotica for...whew, a long time (poorly, but a damn long time). I only did that to make the stories "safe" enough for family members to read. Hell, I still do that...and it makes me sad that I have to do it. Thanks, guys.

Furthermore, I had to change the character to make them dark-skinned, too. My #1 dark-skinned character known to my family was originally light-skinned. I had to change that. Why? Because...diversity? Hell if I remember why, anymore...It was 11 years ago. I was always worried if the character's nose was "too white", if their hair was "too straight"...or if I should just stop worrying since the damn character is a fictional one of the fantasy genre, damn it all.

And now, at 25 years old, I am struggling with the now profound realization (due to the media; thanks, guys) that I am a black author whose very extensive personal library of original and transformative works comprises 90% of light-skinned people who I might as well just call white. And I mean that; no light-skinned Asians, here, in other words, or anything of the sort.

To this day, I am still changing the skintones of my characters to make them dark-skinned. Sometimes it works, other times...I feel as if I am doing something wrong. Because it is wrong. I shouldn't have to change a character's skintone or ethnicity just to fit some sort of mold of black authors writing about black people because...blackness? Oh, and don't get me started on the fact that I write about MEN 99% of the time! Women?! BORING! I hate writing women!! All male cast, for the WIN! At least, for my stories.

I personally know why it is important to see cultural, gender and sexual diversity and a metaphorical rainbow of skintones (hell, even hair textures!) in literature. Don't even go there. But I don't fit that mold for the things I write, never have, and it's never bothered me before. It's only starting to bother me now because, like so much of what I am, I'm starting to feel guilty for it. All the more reason for me to say "fuck you" to that. Making me feel for the umpteenth time that I have to "Defend My Blackness™".

I am a storyteller.

If my main character is a white guy with blue eyes and blond hair from a rich family who falls in love with a supernatural creature that also initially takes the form of a white man with brown hair and green eyes but later changes their appearance into a brown-skinned woman with green eyes and curly brown hair—well, that's my fucking story, a la Human Shed Skin.

You know, it's funny. I write stories I would want to read. Yet, I often find myself complaining about the lack of diversity in the media, too. I try to rectify that, myself, as I said before, but those stories normally don't come as naturally as the others. Why...? I truthfully wish I knew. Though, I do have some unfortunate, sad idea...

Now, you're probably thinking, well, then! DO I have any stories about dark-skinned leads/characters/cast/people?! AT ALL?! Yes. Yes, I do.

But then that gets into the other side of what this is all about.

I am a storyteller.

One thing I am a self-proclaimed genius at doing is making up very dark. Twisted. Morally questionable stories, be they fiction or fanfiction. I legitimately couldn't tell you why, either. All of my most favorite stories have such characters in them, either as the main lead or nearly so. Two very new novels I am working on have brown-skinned leads (in fact, I would say one of the leads' skintones is ebony). Both stories, however...emphasize some severely morally questionable things. Or just questionable things, in general, in the eyes of the "general" public, such as polyandry (!!) and polygamy.

Not for any reason. No rhyme, in fact, or reason. That's just my MO. It's what my mind panders to me, makes up for me. I go with it, willingly, happily. It's what I'm good at, so I laugh mockingly in your general direction if you think that's not going to happen because my leads have dark skin and OOH STEREOTYPES.

HA. HA. HA!

In all seriousness...I write dark, taboo, twisted, perverse, questionable things. I do not, or may not necessarily support or endorse the things I write. I may have definite unconventional ideas about the things I write, such as what to do with a rapist or about statutory rape, but, pfft. Don't automatically assume I'm totally okay with it. If okay with it at all!

I. Tell. Stories.

That, to me, is what a storyteller is. I agree that, like what I do, some storytellers can try a little bit harder to include positive diversity, but otherwise...A storyteller tells a story. It doesn't matter how dark or perverse or scary or twisted that story is...because it's not real. It's scary to consider happening, yes, and sometimes it's better if you stay away from it, but at the end of the day...it's a fictional world with fictional people. Their worlds can be just as dark and scary and weird and dysfunctional and twisted as ours is. Wouldn't you agree?

So, if you can't handle the heat, stay the fuck out of my kitchen. My dishes are 99.9% a la flambée. Over a grill. With hotsauce. And wasabi. And ghost peppers....And black pepper.
Achoo.

...I just have to get all of this off my chest. To have something to point people to once The Questions™ start being asked. Because I have no doubt, in this day and age where everyone wants to cross-examine everything and everyone for their being, that will happen, eventually...

But here's something else for you to mull over.

Once upon a time, a self-questioning, mentally tortured, unknowingly mentally ill young girl created herself an "alter ego". This alter ego was her opposite in every way. Every. Way. Older than her. White. Male. And gay. He was her best friend in the universe.

...Eventually, the girl identified as genderqueer. Their best friend died. They struggle with self-acceptance to this day.

The fucking end.

NaNoWriMo 2k17

November was horrible.

That is no lie.

Around the 12th of the month, however, I began to formally write out an original story called Human Shed Skin. I was writing out quite a bit...and then, out of nowhere, I decided to attempt NaNoWriMo on the 17th. It was pretty much the middle of the month, and I was a little concerned about my ability to write, but I went for it, anyway. 

Well, turns out, I did okay.

For the first time in my life, I finished the first draft of a novel. By extension, I finished a novel. For the first time ever. Not that it's something I'm super happy with, as it's just the first draft, but. I did it. In less than a month, too, since I started on the 17th!!

So, now I'm writing the third draft of Human Shed Skin and it's looking much better. I'm just sort of stuck on chapter nine since I'm horrible at transitioning with time-skips. Ugh. I'll write as many drafts as I need to make this perfect!!! I love my boys~♥

In the meantime, now that December has started, I'm going to put HuShS aside for a little while (if I can; I'm a sucker for going back to beloved works) and continue focusing on my fanfics, since my hiatus will be over in January. I need to have at least one or two chapters done for each fic I'm working on done by then! More deadlines, more deadlines...

Also! Today, someone left me a comment on one of my most beloved fanfiction on Archive of Our Own!

I have to start focusing on school, now, unfortunately. I'm really not looking forward to any of that, especially since my writing mojo is currently at its peak. It always happens this way; I have to do something "important" that I hate just when I'm starting to do something or have something I really love that I want to spend all my time with!

Life! YOU SUCK.

So. That was November. A sucky month, as far as personal life goes, but a good, productive month, as far as my personal work goes. Somewhat. Ish.

...Naw, it was okay.

Now. Now I must return to Life™. That means cleaning out my refrigerator of spoiled food (shame, I know), clean the apartment of dust and dirt and disorganization, start studying for a loathsome test that is in two weeks, and...That's what I'm really resenting, right now. Returning to Life™. Fucking hell...

Old, alone, done for

...I don't know where to begin, really.

It's been this...horrible back and forth between feeling okay to feeling downright miserable and...I feel very alone. If you're wondering how, I'm tired of repeating myself. Go search for the answer yourself, if you care "so much".

...Sure, you do.

Suuure.

...So, then. What's new with ol' Mareonet.

...Well, I made a new wiki. A sort of...counterpart to my second most developed fanfiction after The Worlds That Never Should. It's not nearly as developed as it, but...it'll come around. I hope. As much as I love Devil May Cry, it better get more development...

I also made a new blog, but I doubt that'll go anywhere. Like most "new" locations I make for myself online, I have good momentum, in the beginning...until I realize I'm alone, again. As usual. As always...

I'm still madly obsessed with a certain Kingdom Hearts rarepair, but I'm also now obsessed with an original pairing I made up for said second most developed fanfiction after TWTNS.

Said pairing could be modified to work in an original story, but I am...quite hesitant to attempt to create a new ID (idea), since, pfft, yeah, my record with my stories—literally my stories—is pathetic at best.

Said possible original story could be used for NaNoWriMo, but, pfft, yeah, my record with trying to do short stories—or any story—is painfully confusing at best.

Said month could be a good time to experiment with stories, but I'm still obsessed with Ice & Space and AkuRoku and...(Kingdom Hearts)...

Not to mention, I'm horribly bummed since I discovered I don't have the memory card for the PlayStation 2 that has 10+ years of video game data on it.

So. My pathetic existence continues, with me trying to have a...slightly less pathetic existence.

Oh, and how could I forget to mention how horribly lonely I am? I just want to share...so much...with somebody. Almost anybody. I read some little excerpts from my stories and just...want to share it. Talk about it. For hours. You know how people see something stupid on the internet and want to share it? Well, that's how I feel about the things I do. I just want to share them with someone, someone who I hope can appreciate the things I do the way...I do.

...Still haven't found that someone, yet...

I keep going, anyway...for some reason. Even when the tears come back...what else can I do, in the end? I can never, ever stop myself from imagining, from writing. That's good, I guess, or so everyone keeps telling me.

But what good has it done for me, in the end?

That's right.

Nothing. Nothing good has come from this blessed curse.

There's also this nuisance that is the internet and the communities I like.

...But I can't even begin to formulate coherent thought with all of that nonsense.

So I won't try.

Anyway, I'm just rambling to myself, here...so I'll just...end this entry here, I guess...

2k17 Hopes & Ideas Update

I'll get right into it.

I won't be going to the Rhode Island Comic Con, this year. It was just too last minute, after all. I'll try again for next year, for sure. Though...I'm already worrying about how that's going to work out...

I have officially decided my hiatus will be until New Year's. That should give me plenty of time to make new chapters for my fanfics on AO3 and FF.net. I uploaded my current last chapter for my Bleach fanfiction, Echoup de théâtre: Cache, last night, anyway. This means there won't be a new chapter until next year! Loong time. Should be adequate...

I have a few videos planned for my YouTube channel. I might upload at least two times a week. That seems like a good schedule.

Today is October 1st! This means...nothing in particular. ._. Other than that I can now dress warmly, and thus far, the weather here seems to be agreeing with the notion!! Hopefully it will stay that way.

So. Expect at least two videos this week on my YouTube channel and we'll go from there...

...Oh.

And something has come to my attention that...I feel I should verbalize, somehow. It's nothing dreadfully serious...It's relating to me, really.

...It's about my hesitance to upload pictures of myself.



There is a reason for this.

Simply put: I hate the way I look. Everything about me, except my legs. I hate my face, I hate the upper parts of my body. I hate my arms. I hate the shape of my head. I hate everything.

Except my legs.

Once, I liked my eyes. But that was a long while ago, now...and not anymore. Seems as if my fancy has shifted to my legs, instead, now that I'm wearing more form-fitting legwear.

What I'm trying to get to is...I'm coming to realize that if I want to make a brand for myself...If I want Project DV to work out in the future...I will have to show pictures of myself. Not just videos, which, I assure you, is difficult enough as it is.

...Now, I know no one reads this, or watches my videos...or cares in general.

But.

I'm looking ahead to a...hopefully possible positive future. Project DV...It's everything to me. Everything I do is all leading up to Project DV, in the end. I have to get out of my comfort zone. Either now, or later. Might as well start now.

People need to get to know me. They need to, if I hope for PDV to become a reality. How else will they..."trust" me, if you will? I can't think of anything else.

So.

I will eventually start posting pictures of myself; where, I don't know; how, I don't know. But maybe only after I've uploaded more videos talking about myself. That's a good place to start...

...and then there's this

Don't you just hate it when you had plans to do or start something at the beginning of a week and it just...blows over horribly?

Yeah. Well.

I had plans to start some videos again, yesterday, but...I have a feeling I won't be able to until later this week. Friday, or something. Which sucks, because I rather liked my upload momentum from earlier this week. Unless...I do something like upload two weeks, not upload two weeks...or at least one. At a time. Or something. I wouldn't mind the latter idea.

Anyway, it's been a bad start to my week in other ways, as well, but I won't talk about that, here.

Oh, and I'm on a working hiatus, yet accidentally uploaded chapter seven of Reverse Kingdom on FanFiction.net. My mistake. But I know no one will read it, anyway...

...Just a little update post.

Now that's out of the way...

This weekend ends the majority of my videos focusing solely on things I "needed to get out first", such as updates and whatnot. After my review on the Demonia shoes I own...

...Comes the fan-tastic fangasms.

I'll be uploading less than before, I think. Not four videos a week, that's for sure! I'm surprised I was able to do that for two weeks as it is.

Like I said previously, I'll be talking about video games, pairings, music, fanfiction, and things relating to my...mentality, I suppose. Just to see if anyone can relate, I guess.

A lot of what I'm doing is for that. Networking. Trying to find people to talk to. Something like that...

...It's a boring, overcast day, in random news. Good for playing video games, drinking tea and listening to music...

Also.

I really can't wait for autumn and winter.

Working the Open Broadcaster Software Studio

It's almost a complete and utter shame that I've gotten this to work on my main computer instead of my laptop. My main PC has a square screen, which, while it doesn't bother me, I admit the rectangular monitors—widescreen—work best for videos. And only my laptop has such a monitor. Of course.

A preview at a video I've made for tomorrow

So, I've uploaded seven videos as of today, with a total of eight, since one is scheduled for tomorrow. I'm taking this YouTubing thing...fairly well...

I feel pretty good about myself, as I figured out how to work this program 99% on my own. It's a really nice feeling. Once I got the gist of its language, if you will, things went pretty well...My main problem is how darned sensitive everything is...but that's probably just my computer, really.

No real complaints, otherwise. This opens up new possibilities for things I could upload to YouTube...

...In other news...I'm still sticking to my hiatus. I've had some slight inspiration, but it dies so easily. Story of my life.

Plans for my YT channel

...Well, there aren't any, really.

The whole idea is to have content out there by people I identify with—specifically in the alternative scene—that isn't the "mainstream" shit that's being uploaded everywhere. I'm tired of seeing it, so I'm uploading the types of things I want to see. Even if someone has a video out there that is similar, that's fine.

But I assure you.

I won't be uploading fucking makeup videos, makeup tutorials, reactions, get ready with me videos, or unboxing videos. What. The. Hell.

What I do plan on doing are reviews on music and manga, and maybe some new products, if there's a good reason—such as the shoes that I'm expecting; if these don't fit me, I'm going to upload a video explaining my troubles and asking if anyone else has experienced them with this particular brand. Because seriously, I've been buying different sizes from this brand (Demonia) for years and nothing fits me, yet. It's very disheartening.

...Anything else, as far as uploads go, is rather out of reach, for me. I don't have a camera, anymore, so there's no hope in that. I'd love to get a camera, again, but...that's a ways away, right now; not on my list of priorities. Once I do eventually get one, the types of videos I can upload broaden by a great margin.

Until then, I will be doing the strange 10-minute rambles that I'm doing now. It's fine with me. I'm just happy to see my videos up, to be honest. Bland topics, rambling; whatever. It's giving me something to do...

...and I like that.

New YouTube channel & first video~

Well. I did it. Finally made a YouTube video for my new channel, Mareonet. I'm in the process of making a video thumbnail for the future introduction/channel ad video.

...I don't like showing my face online. At least in pictures. So to be making videos again is...pretty big. At least for me. But I think I can handle it. This might be good for me, anyway...

This, of course, is merely me making true to what I said previously about starting YouTube videos again. Fortunately, I was in a good mood while making it. I haven't been feeling so good, lately...

So, then. Here it is. I'm human, defective, so...rambles ensue.

...*Sigh*.

I only have Windows Movie Maker—and not the good version from Windows XP, either, but the stupid Windows Vista+ version. Blergh. I really don't care, since I manage well, I think...but the YouTube video editor is going to be going in about 18 days and that hurts...

...*Sigh*...

So. It begins.

2k17 Hopes & Ideas, cont.

I forgot to mention something in my last entry, mainly because it's not something actively on my mind. But it should be!

A huge hope for 2k17 is to go to the Rhode Island Comic Con, like I did last year! If I could, I'd love to go with my brother and mother...but...if it comes to it...I might have to go with only one of them—hopefully not alone, though. If the latter really does come into play, at least I can say I am familiar with both the hotel I'm eyeing and the Downtown area of Providence; I lived in RI for a year, after all. 

I met R2 last year! 

It's very exciting, to be planning all of this. HOWEVER. I feel as if I'm planning a bit...too late. Granted, there are still 2 1/4-ish months left, but...AUGH. I completely forgot all about it, that's why! This is the sort of thing people plan a year in advance!! I'll be dining on nothin' but ramen for the next few months, by the looks of it!

...Which isn't a bad idea, in itself, except...none too healthy...unless I do something like this awesomeness right here...

Savor that veggie goodness

...That's what I'm talkin' about...

SO. There are some things to consider, here.

Doesn't seem like carpooling is exactly a thing to do. I don't mind the train...and I don't see a problem with the ticket prices...except. I would love to get a picture taken with LeVar Burton, Sean Astin, STEVE BLUM...!!! And this time, maybe, an actual picture with Doug Walker, a.k.a. That Guy With Glasses a.k.a. Nostalgia Critic?! BUT THE PHOTO OPS ARE LIKE. $50+ EACH. FFFFFFFFUUUUUUU—

*Sighs*

...Yeah. I admit, I'd be happy enough with just going. It's not something I can actually do normally, so...*sigh* much as I'd love to actually see the aforementioned celebs up close and personal—let alone have a picture with them—just going to such an event should be good enough for me.

It should be.

Likely, it will be.

...In the meantime...back to planning out what my ramen routine will be until November 9th...

2k17 Thus Far | Hopes & Ideas

More than halfway into 2k17 and...it's been a complete and utter mess of ups and downs in a sort of...extreme opposites type of way. Not sure what to make of it...

I'll not get into the nitty gritty of it, as I have a few things to mention instead.

The #1 is that...I am on a hiatus with my writing. I know. You don't care. But this is a huge deal, for me. I've just...lost all drive on the account of lack of feedback and that's where I'm at as far as what I need, right now. And not just feedback from someone simply reading my work, but by someone who knows what I'm writing about. In this case, of course, I'm talking specifically about fanfiction.

But I'm also taking a sort-of, kind-of break from my original work as well...

...Actually, I'm taking a break in general. Including with Project DV; the wiki is under maintenance and only some articles can be read. I'd like to go back to school, as well. Likely for spring, or the dead of wintertime. Huh. That should be "fun".

The #2 is that I have been severely considering starting YouTube channels again. Back in 2012 and 2013, I did videos, and it was...interesting. I'd do a better job, now, even if I have to use Windows Movie Maker (which is all I have, right now, anyway) and GIMP. Why GIMP, I don't know, but...anyway.

The reason for this is simple. The content on YouTube—at least in the topics of interest—has been terribly lacking, as of late. I'm in and have been in a grave state of ennui (in more ways than one) and I need to do something about it. Even if the visual quality is piss poor in comparison to what's the norm, nowadays. I believe my iPod and webcams are good enough, so long as they are done right.

The question is...what sort of topics to work on?

Last time I had my videos up in 2012 - 2013, I made videos that were a sort of "norm": informational and outfit of the day(s). This time, for sure, I'm going to be a little more original about my content approach.

Certain things will remain in the Blaqueboxx only, of course. Some things are literally better left unsaid, after all.

The biggest problem I come across is that many of the topics I'd like to talk about are of things that I'm working on. Projects. Things that I shouldn't tell to too many people, in case they take my ideas. Because don't we all know that's horribly easy to do, nowadays. I just want to talk with someone about them. Not the whole bloody internet.

Since I honestly can't come up with an idea of what I'd like to talk about in coherent words...I'll just vent a bit.


I want to talk about video games, specifically ones from the early 2000s. Devil May Cry. Jak & Daxter. God, Jak & Daxter. How I miss you enough to cry. Ideas of Kingdom Hearts and what it was like and what it meant to me, back then. I want to talk about fanfiction and my peeves when it comes to them. About how I've been writing for so long, but I have very little to none of my work done. Maybe read some summaries of my fanfiction in videos to garner some attention...

Being a Kingdom Hearts trashcan, I want to talk about Kingdom Hearts theories, but not ones relating to Reverse Kingdom/TWTNS/WReV, of course; my Kingdom Hearts project. I'd also like to talk about what I wish was elaborated on in Kingdom Hearts, and what changes could be made to possible future titles, like realism mirroring what is in Final Fantasy titles (particularly FFX). People around, people to talk to...Things happening in the background. I think FFXV had that in it, too. I desire that so greatly...

I want to talk about music, and what it means to me, since I worship it, after all. How come I never hear anyone talk about Avatar? How I gain ideas and inspiration to write from music, even if I don't understand it, even if I don't know the meaning, and give examples with songs like "Pet" by A Perfect Circle and "Nightmare" by Avenged Sevenfold. How I listen to music. The scenes of dancing people and scenes and crossovers and...BSTD, of course; my mental, animated band. But music. What it means to me.

I want to rave about my favorite pairings, just to see if there is anyone else interested in them. Mentions right now are, of course, Ice & Space, or Even and Braig from Kingdom Hearts. I'd love to talk about my take on them, how I've taken their relationship in my fanfic The Schemes of Ice & Space. Possible ideas of how mpreg could happen in their relationship, horrifying as that sounds.

Hell, I'd like to talk about my take on yaoi and yuri. BL and GL. Peeves. Wishes. Ideas. Stories I've had or do have. My take on what I call ML and WL. Ideas of how stories could seem homoerotic, but are actually heterosexual pairings. And vice-versa. Stories I've had or do have in that regard. 

Just...

So much more than what's out there, right now.

...Yeah. I feel I can definitely do this, now that I've typed all of that out. I'm...I think I can do it. I have to do it, because no one else is. And if they are, they are lost, to me.

Maybe I can bring about more originality and creativity and break the goddamned mold that people have conformed to...

Arts & Ideas...?

Yesterday was June 3, the day that the Festival of Arts and Ideas begins in Downtown New Haven. So I went out yesterday to not only kill time before seeing Wonder Woman with my older brother, but to also see if the festival started.

Nothing on the Right

Huh...

Nothing on the Left

So where were the festivities?

Since there was nothing going on, I decided to get something I hadn't had in a long time.

Beet Smoothie from Claire's

Claire's Corner Copia has been a family favorite—and a city favorite—since inception. They are 100% vegan and vegetarian and, as it suggests, is indeed located on a corner in the heart of Downtown New Haven. Lovely place, I suggest it to all!

I had one of two beet juice smoothies. It had spinach, apples, apple juice, and, of course, beets in it, but I can't remember its name for the life of me, or the total ingredients...

There is also this lovely, truly fantastic place called the W Bench Gallery. It's a hippy sort of place, with incense, oddities, and lots and lots of things hanging everywhere. I didn't take a picture because I...honestly didn't want to. It's a treasure of a place, it is.

There, since I had a bit to spare, I got some new sunglasses and more pins to add to my pin collection from there. I am a budding pin collector, and thus far I only have my pins on my Bebe backpack that I would like to act as if it is not Bebe, so I cover it to death in pins, and my tophat with the Goblin King Jareth pin on it.

These lower two pins give you an idea of the fandoms I love, and are the only ones I have of fandoms, actually...I'd love to get Kingdom Hearts, One Piece, and Devil May Cry ones...

Piiiinssss

The rest are the pins I'm really proud of. Three band pins—The Sisters of Mercy at the top right, Alien Sex Fiend on the top left, and Steam Powered Giraffe on the bottom—and two anti-social pins, followed by the Very Necessary music is my religion pins. They are so necessary, I got two.

The new ones are the three in the middle. I have another, but am not sure where to put it, yet...

I never really saw the purpose of pins until recently, likely because until recently, I never saw any of interest. Pins and patches. I have plans for patches in the future, and am avidly trying to find that special vest to eventually adorn with both pins and patches alike.

The vest I currently have that I may pimp out is...unfortunately, a very obvious not!black that is more...greenblack. I despise greenblack of all the not!black colors.

...So, then. Wonder Woman.

The movie was...eh. Don't get me wrong, I believe wholeheartedly that it is the best live-action DC movie of the ones we've been given in the past handful of years...But it was extremely boring to me. I'm just not for the tropes and stereotypes found in Hollywood nowadays. I desire something more. So much more...which it seems I must make myself...

I plan to go out today, too, but that will be in a few hours or so. It seems to be a grey day. Until then, I am trying to put together the Right Outfit to wear while listening to some tunes.

I'll try to take more pictures, but...no promises.

Oh, and these are my sunglasses, by the way.

This is all of them...for now

The one at the very front is the newest. And the smallest. If I didn't keep losing them, I'd have a marvelous collection of round-frame sunglasses. MARVELOUS, I tell you!!!!

World Goth Day 2k17

I celebrated World Goth Day for the first time in a long time, this week.

...Oh, and hello. My name is Mar. You can call me Mareonet.

Hi. How are ya.

This week has been a busy one, thus far. There's this internship I'm working at to keep myself busy that started two weeks ago. Today will be my 9th day there; it's past 12 in the morning, after all. Just a retail store. Clothing. Such boring, insipid clothes. But some stand out, every now and then.

And then there's my fics.

That makes a total of four fanfics I'm workin on this year, so far. I hope to not upload any more, since honestly, four is a hassle as it is. One Nanatsu no Taizai (The Seven Deadly Sins), one Kingdom Hearts, one Devil May Cry, and one Bleach. It's perfect. Nice variety, methinks...?

...It's okay, I know you aren't interested in them....

The apartment is turning out alright, I suppose.

The completed kitchen corner

Too much color, right now. Might always be that way. My ability to customize is...extremely limited, to be frank. I can just barely hang things on the walls. But beggars cannot be choosers.

...Got some of my shite up and out of the way...

Meaning: this isn't all of it

...Thanks to Bane at GIY, as well as watching Aurelio Voltaire's Gothic Homemaking show, I plan to spice it up, eventually. Somehow...

Mein closet...

Pack!Maio and Pack!Luigi up there...

...Pretty much the only thing I am content with. But how can I not be content with all that lovely black...

And lastly...

...the Stuffies

I will never abandon my Stuffies.

Ever.

The oldest one that was originally mine is the little faceless doll with yellow hair. The oldest one in general is the lil' koala. Probably older than me...Belonged to my maternal grandmother, methinks...

Anywho.

Things are shaping up to be okay, this new semester of the year...thus far.

So my outfit for WGD was very nice, very badass. But my shitty iPod camera couldn't pick that up.

I didn't really do anything special, just walked around and did my business whilst listening to the good ol' Sisters of Mercy, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and, of course, the deity of music that is Sopor Æternus and the Ensemble of Shadows.

It's a-me, Mar-io

...Oi, now. Don't expect this many images every time I make an entry. I just had a lot lying around, this time. Screenshots, too...

So guess what I watched recently?

I ship it

...BUT I AM NOT WATCHING THE NEXT GAMES' CUTSCENES.

That game is convoluted as fricking HELL and so damn boring. I got enough of what I needed for my KH fic I'm working on, anyway.

I hope you like what I do for the FFXIII cast members that do show up in Reverse Kingdom...

So that's my week. World Goth Day, and thus...

Thanks for the memories

I know no one reads this blog. I know...no one cares about someone they don't know or don't bother with. I know that, even at 24 years old, I'm still just an over-dramatic, immature POS. If whatever internet rules that be will pardon me for a moment, I have to take a moment to publically express my sadness.

Almost a month ago, my partner of almost two years, the one I call "Mr. Stark", broke up with me. We were in the middle of an argument, which is nothing special in itself. I recall mainly thinking how stupid it was, as usual, that we were arguing at all. Of course, it was about me and my depression and how I didn't "do anything"—because of course, in his mind I did not, oh, I don't know, help with the bills, clean the house, cook, grocery shop. About how my world revolves around music, the fandoms I devout my existence to, my life's work, Project DV, and my creative projects. About how he comes home to find me working on my computer. And he didn't like any of that. Then his words, along the lines of "that's it, get out" were spewed at me, and I detached myself from him. That was my first self-defense. To detach myself from all of my feelings about him, all of my thoughts related to him.

I immediately acted. "Okay," was pretty much my response, and I immediately set about going through my things to figure out how I would pack them away. He called my mother and told me he wanted me out, and told me he didn't love me anymore. Yet six hours prior, and he was nice to me, tender to me. I stayed up that night going through my things. That day, two hours after I finally fell asleep, I awoke to him pulling the blankets off me that freezing morning; he was volatile, verbally abusive, and I remembered staying silent, not moving until he left for work. I recall my uncontrollable shivering from how cold it was, thinking about how he could suddenly be so cruel when he was so kind in comparison just the day before. Just hours before.

I still haven't spoken to him, even though we've still lived together in the same apartment. I've avoided him, staying as unobtrusive as possible, keeping to the bedroom while he takes the living room. I told him from day one that I would fight for him until he didn't want me anymore. So, keeping to my word, I wasn't going to fight, anymore.

This is my last week at the apartment with him. Hopefully, all of my things will be out of there before Saturday, my deadline there, and I'll be intruding on some family until I figure out my living situation. While my things will be safe in storage, I'm bringing little more than the clothes on my back, toiletries and small technologies no bigger than my Lenovo Ideapad.

...I left my job two months ago to give me a chance to work on myself. To find myself again. To reassess my situation and figure out how to go about living. I only left my job because Mr. Stark said it would be okay. He said he didn't like how sad I was at my then-job. He wanted what was best for me. If somehow during that time handling the apartment on his own became too much, or something, he should have told me. He should have said something. Remaining quiet, blaming me for something I thought we had under control, and then forcing me out when he couldn't take it anymore...

I don't know what to think about him, now. I didn't know who he really was, I guess. It would seem. If anything, I have tried to see how positive this whole situation has been, as far as not being with him anymore, two-faced as he was. As he is. But for whatever reason, I did love him. I did want to be with him. When the times were good, they were great. I'm not going to get rid of every picture of him, or what have you. Not every picture. Most, yes. No need for them, anymore.

...At the same time...his sudden cruelty has taken me for a loop, beginning with kicking me out before I could find a place to live. Because of that, all my reasons for leaving my job were futile. My depression will worsen, not so much because of what has happened, but because of where it leaves me when it settles. When I'm gone from his apartment, our old apartment, I won't be able to dedicate my free time to writing, working on my wiki and making images for my projects. I won't have the means to let my creative energy flourish. I can't bring those things with me when I intrude on this family member, for however long that may be.

Of course, that's how I feel, even more so following what happened. I'm an intrusion. A useless, hopeless suicidal-depressive POS who is so mentally, emotionally fragile that I can't do what's expected, the "norm" of people my age. To work 5 days a week for 8 hours a day is too much, it seems. And though I may every now and then find it within myself to understand this is just how it is for me, it seems as if no one else can grasp this. So I am an intrusion, no matter what people say. Just like Mr. Stark, they will all find me to be a burden, a nuisance, eventually.

I don't know what else to think. Not until something changes...because I am so tired of changing for everyone else with no payoff.

But fine. I will try to find another job in another city. I will try to and will work hard at that job, no matter how much I hate it—if nothing else, I am known for good worth ethic, despite my cardinal flaws. I will try to find emotional, psychological help for whatever the hell must be wrong with me—and damn me if there's really nothing wrong at all. I will try and will live to see another day, much as I hate to open my eyes every new morning, because I don't have the guts to take my own life and for some reason, no one or thing has killed me yet. I'll go day to day without my personal treasures, like my desktop computer, and my personal comforts, like my writing supplies gloriously on display before my eyes. I'll stop all of the wonderful creative work I've done since December, as my means to do so will be severely limited once I move in with this family member.

I'll continue trying, even if nothing else changes...as always.

...Hoping for so little...wanting so little in return...

I don't want to write, anymore

Not that anyone cares. Not that anyone who knows or think they know me understand the weight of those words in the horrific way they translate to me.

...Where to begin in a...slightly...more mature way...

*Inhales*

I feel...as if I'm having some sort of...reverse-epiphany. A horrible, dawning realization that has been taunting me for two decades. It doesn't make this any easier.

I've never been so lost before. The one thing that I thought I knew I wanted to do, the one thing that I could always fall back on when sad, depressed, angry, tired...the one thing that encapsulated my whole being. The one thing that defined me. The one thing I always called myself in some sort of half-proud way. The one thing I knew I was meant to do, even if I wasn't good at it. The one thing I kept on doing, even if I wasn't good at it. The one thing no one—not even I—could stop me from doing, no matter what I was doing, where I was, what I had.

...I get it, alright...

You don't know me. You probably just barely glance over all of the shit I've ever posted in all my 11 years online. All you really notice is that I am, indeed, immature, probably selfish, and...whatever. But I am supposed to know who I am, god-fucking-damnit.

I don't know who I am, anymore.

And no one seems to care.

I live with someone who so easily saps the life right out of me. I admittedly have such a low self-esteem, I find my reaching out to family and friends who have actual lives to be...intrusive. Painfully, extremely so. Criminal, even. Irrationally so.

So I don't.

...

I don't to write, anymore.

...Never in my...existence...as a human being did I ever believe I would say such a thing.

I'm in shock, right now.

Numb but choked up, and yet...unfeeling at the same time.
...

I'm going to take some time to...possibly remove my presence from the internet. Somehow. Delete...a lot of accounts I've had for...a long time. There's no point, anymore. There was always an end goal. That end goal was...Project DV, and through it, Project PHE. PHE. My fucking baby. A sort of extension of all that I physically, mentally embody. It's all fucking useless, now.

Have I been going at this all wrong...?

I spent the past 20 years of my life wasting my time. So...so many ideas...Meaningless.

So goodbye, PHE. Goodbye, Tales by the One Who Knows. Goodbye, fanfiction.

Goodbye, me.

I hated you.

But I always hoped your writing would mean something, in the end.

BBTxx Update | 2k17 Life

Firstly, for the first time in three years, I have made an entry at the Boxx. It is the longest thus far. And it gets a bit into my personal history with writing. I have a strong...and long...and trying history with writing. I look back on it, and...

Well, anyway.

So, more of Nanatsu no Taizai. It is times like these that really make me wish I...just...had people to talk to about the things I'm interested in. The things that make my eyes sparkle, my voice rise with elation and...my heart to squeeze. I've been busy on AO3 since maybe Thursday, thoroughly engrossed and obsessed with all things related to NnT and, of course, Ban the Immortal~

A photo posted by Mar Qaroll (@blaque.margin) on Jan 9, 2017 at 7:04am PST

This is pretty much my last purchase for...ever. But we'll not get into my financial situation...

My new fic is called The Four Last Things. I have an astonishing, groundbreaking, record-breaking NINE CHAPTERS uploaded and I have two more already finished! But...today is my last day submitting a chapter for a while, because, as I knew it would happen eventually, my steam is running out. I am losing confidence. But the Boxx explains more of that...

As for 2k17 itself...well...

It's been almost a month since I left my job. It's already becoming something I...wish I knew how to handle better. Well, it always was. I'm trying. I know I need to fight against myself even harder. I wish I could just...fucking kill off this pathetic side of me. I really do, and those who know would know I mean it.

It's not much, but I have kept an eye out for jobs, again. The very thought of repeating the process of the 8-hour void for days at a time makes me tremble, my eyes water...

So the small sliver lining is passing, turning to grey before the black sets in, again...

Dear 2017...

I was solemnly going to try (try, damnit, because even I know it's not so easy) to kill myself today after a short, sad night crying myself to sleep.

Then I remembered I had an appointment with my therapist and grudgingly decided against it. For whatever.

And then this:

A photo posted by Mar Qaroll (@blaque.margin) on Jan 3, 2017 at 6:06pm PST

...

So here I am.

Nanatsu no Taizai has too quickly become one of my top favorite—because I don't have a "top insert-number-here" for anything—manga. And, for the first time in forever, top favorite anime, thus far. I have to keep myself from watching it again, especially nearly any scene with Ban. Damn you and your somehow impurely pure heart, Ban.

...Anyway...

Back home. Back in the cold and the anxiety and the self-doubt and the self-hate.

Oh, right, this is a "New Years" blog entry.

Righto.

I've been writing the next chapter to my Bleach fanfic, Echoup de theatre: Cache, for the past two days. Hopefully it'll be up on FF.net soon...So far I like it...not impressively so, but enough. I guess.

I only have a little bit of money (that I already spent on the items above...and more) left that actually belongs to me, that I fought for. It will not last long with my mentality. I am a person who spends money the more depressed I become. Oh wait...

Yeah.

Aaand...

I made a new Tumblr for reblogging and fandom-gasming and...things that aren't mine, I guess.

...Aaand...

...

I got fatter.

...

Yay.

2k17 is here.