Three Feet Left of Reality

''Eat, drink and be merry. For tomorrow, we die.'' ''Never speak with anger when passion would suffice'' ''You're never alone if you have (literal) demons'' ''The Horrors persist but so do I.'' ''Life is short, let it never be dull!'' - The Torn Page Collective Hi! Sister Charlotte (Charlie) here! Merry meet! I like to use this blog to scream into the void, and post my poetry :) I'm a recently sworn Hellenic priestess of Hekate, I still have a lot to learn but feel free to ask me about it if you have questions I'd love to chat! Oh and sometimes the other people I share a body with post here too

[kikislesbianaunt]

''Jesus there are dead spiders in here, how long have you been sat up there?''

Kiyana tilted her head to one side with a creak and said "Hmmm le-eet me think." And began slowly ticking for a moment, speeding up gradually until it sounded more like a drill and then suddenly stopped. "it is ... twenty.. twenty fo-our?"

Mark nodded as he put down the awl and picked up a pair of tweezers.

"Mmhm it is, how did you know that?"

"I'm made of clocks silly!"

He pulled a curled up husk of a spider out of the clockwork android and dropped it in the trash can under the workbench.

"I've been asleep for... one hunnndred and se-eventy-one years, three months, four-r-r days and fifty-three minutes."

Mark whistled in astoundment and stopped tinkering with the gears in her shoulder to lean back in his chair, tapping the pair of tweezers against his chin in thought while he did some quick calculations. A hundred and seventy-one years ago would have been 1853, how on earth was she still even functional? Even the highest-end modern robotics was only designed to last a few decades and required frequent maintenance and repair.

"I didn't realise they had intelligent androids back then. Or I guess in the steam era they called you an automaton."

Kiyana laughed, a juddery, metallic tinkling sound, and Mark raised an eyebrow.

tick tick tick

"They-y didn't really, I was special."

She pressed her remaining hand to her neck, the gears in her elbow and shoulder grinding loudly, and a grainy recording played.

"-ever before! She'll be the first of her kind, an automaton that can think for itself, make decisions just like a human can!"

"Your creator?"

The automaton nodded with a creaking sound. Mark reached to the wall behind him, unhooked a small oil can from it and put a few drops of oil into the joints of its neck. Kiyana rolled her head back and forth a couple times.

"Thank you sir! That feels mu-uuch better!"

She continued moving her head around for a moment, as if she was stretching, then began surveying the room.

"So were there others like you? Did he build more?"

She froze.

tick tick

"Yyes. I had... two sisters."

"What happened to them?"

Her head lowered slightly, her hollow, unblinking gaze settling on the floor, and Mark turned his attention to the mechanical arm laid on his workbench next to her, taking out screws and bolts one by one to separate the hand from it.

"He... ne-ever finished them..... He got very sick."

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

She turned her porcelain mask of a face towards him.

"Sorry? Whate-eever for?"

"Your creator, he sounded like a lovely man."

tick tick tick

Having separated the hand from the arm, he carefully mounted the delicate gilted-copper and brass construction on a clamp, and began inspecting the workings of the fingers. The tiny silver gears inside seemed mostly fine, but he realised as he leaned in closer that those gears should have been attached to strips of rubber, almost like tendons, that had all but crumbled away with age. He got up and went over to one of the many drawers along the back wall.

"Do you miss him?" tick tick ttttick "What am I saying of course you don't, androids don't actually feel things like that."

As he rifled through the drawer for a spool of rubber he almost didn't hear her, for some reason she'd gotten much quieter.

"I miss my sisters."

[kikislesbianaunt]

"O-oh...hhe-ello!"

Veronica jerked back in surprise and glanced at James, whose eyes had lit up.

"Hi! I'm James!"

tick tick tick tick

"-uch a ha-a..nndsong na-ae!"

James giggled. Whatever the thing had for a voice was clearly damaged, cutting in and out and fluctuating in seemingly random pitches. Veronica figured it must be playing a recording. Artificial voices hadn't been around for that long, and this thing had clearly been sat up here gathering dust and cobwebs for decades.

"I-I'ng tick tick Kiyana!" it stuttered out.

"Nice to meet you." James smiled at the ancient android. Was it an android? Maybe it was just a toy of some kind, a sculpture that could speak. Veronica imagined it must have been quite the rarity in days long past.

"Jamie I don't think it can hear you"

tick tick tick

With a loud grinding of metal on rusted metal the clockwork sculpture turned its head slightly in Veronica's direction and a brown droplet of something leaked from its eye. Veronica frowned in revulsion.

''Ew, it's leaking oil or something" she said.

tick tick tickticktick

"ts -ice t-t-to me-eet you too!" Its head lolled to one side with a quiet snap. "whoo-opsie."

"I think we should go back downstairs."

Veronica was finding the sculpture more and more unnerving. It looked like something out of a horror movie, but James seemed nonplussed.

"Aww ok. Could we bring uncle Mark up here to show him? He might be able to fix her! please please pleaaase"

tick tick tick tick

The mannequin turned its head again, with another agonising metallic screech, and a broken recording of Jamie's voice issued from it.

"ple-eaaaase.. f-f-fi-ix her"

More drops of oil trickled out of its hollow eye, forming into a stream that ran down its mask, staining the already yellowed porcelain.

''Woah cool!"

A sound that probably used to be something like a giggle arose from it.

"Wooahh c-cool!"

tick tick tick

"Uh, sure." mumbled Veronica, unable to take her eyes off the crying mask.

James bounded over to the attic hatch and started to climb down the ladder, and Veronica considered for a moment if she should take the key back with them, but she didn't feel like putting her hands anywhere near the creepy human-sized doll thing, so she slowly backed away and placed her feet on the top rung of the ladder. Before shutting the hatch behind her she heard one last tick.

"Ww-wa- .. -t pllease co-" And then she clicked the lock shut.

[kikislesbianaunt]

OMG THEY'RE PLAYING CARROT IN A BOX ON GAMECHANGER AAAAA CROSSOVER OF THE CENTURY

- Charlie 🎭

[kikislesbianaunt]

I feel neglected by the universe

- Charlie 🎭

[kikislesbianaunt]

the crew f*cking losing it in the background when Brennan mentions bat child's mum and then losing it even harder not a second later I think will forever be one of my favourite moments on this show

- Charlie 🎭

[kikislesbianaunt]

It's the last class of my 12 week sewing course and I'm sitting outside wasting time on my phone because I don't want to exhaust myself before I get home because I have people coming over later and I'm nowhere near finishing my piece at the end of 12 weeks (13 if you count half-term) and I really feel I've let myself down by not finishing it in time so now I don't want to work on it even if I had the capacity to be creative rn which I barely do because I've had a really awful past couple days (my various injuries from them have only just healed) but I feel so bad for sitting so much of the class out on the last day because my tutors have been amazing (I brought them a box of chocolates each today to say thank you) but I just feel so paralysed by self-disappointment and I guess I feel too ashamed to want to go back in there and ask the questions I need to be able to finish my piece after the course although I did ask most of them last week and really it's fine because I am signing up to another course in September for pattern cutting so I can hopefully get my piece graded once it's finished and everything will be okay but the self-disappointment is still so hard to deal with

- Charlie 🎭

[kikislesbianaunt]

wait did I misunderstand what Zaeth meant by ''unanimously out of a hat'' or did Emily? cuz he was talking about a blind vote, so they all wrote down the name of the person they voted for and put it in a hat, and all the slips drawn from the hat read Zaeth, right? if you're talking about a blind vote you can absolutely be chosen unanimously ''out of a hat'' no YOU'RE being pedantic

- Charlie 🎭

[kikislesbianaunt]

how do become not touch-starved if too mentally broken for friendships or relationships?

- Charlie 🎭

[havingapoemwithyou]

I Guess By Now I Thought I’d Be Done With Shame by Franny Choi

[kikislesbianaunt]

What It Took From Me

3rd June 2026

I stare

in disbelief

at the portraits I sketched,

the sculptures I built,

the stories I wrote,

the music I made;

at the art I created

when I was functional.

Like looking at something done

by an older sister

who isn't around any more.

Themes and theory

too complex

for my child's brain to grasp.

So all I can do

is copy her lines,

her marks,

her skilled and delicate motions,

badly,

with the tools and materials

and instruments she left behind.

They feel too expensive

for tiny little me to use.

I feel like I'm breaking a rule,

stealing the grown-up art supplies

for my crude little scribbles.

After all,

maybe one day she'll come back

and she'll need her tools

and her materials

to make real art again.

But until she does,

it's the only way I have

to remember who she was.

[kikislesbianaunt]

Had a screaming, crying, wailing breakdown in the car on the way to work this morning. Not looking forward to the next... eight hours fuck me idk how much more of this I have in me

- Charlie 🎭

[kikislesbianaunt]

Last Night

31st May 2026

Last night

I dreamt that I died.

Doesn't matter how.

Did I feel the knife

sink into my chest?

The noose tighten

around my throat?

The water fill my lungs

and burn my eyes?

I don't remember.

I remember feeling

myself slipping away,

gripped by a terror

so tight

it hurt

in the knowledge

there was nothing I could do.

And when I saw

the endless void

of true oblivion

waiting for me.

I SCREAMED

SO LOUD

it made no sound

[kikislesbianaunt]

"I stare in disbelief at the art I created when I was functional, like looking at something done by an older sister who isn't around any more, so all I can do is try my best to badly copy it with my barely developed child's brain and the tools and materials she left behind, that feel too expensive for tiny little not-an-experienced-artist me to be using, as a way to try to remember her"

- Charlie 🎭

[programmerhumour]

Anon visits webpages in 2022

[mornington-the-crescent]

As others have pointed out before, if you visited a web page 20 years ago and it acted like that, you would rightly assume your computer had gotten a virus.

[writingwithfolklore]

Do well by your female characters

              Back in film school you wouldn't believe the amount of scripts I read from my (mostly male) classmates that featured the same character; a kind, helpful woman reflective of the male protagonist who showed up when he needed her to offer warm words and support, allowing him to overcome obstacles and go for what he needs.

              I hope she doesn’t sound familiar to you.

              One of them was a coworker, another a train station attendant, another the best friend who lived next door—it didn’t matter, they were all the same character, uninvolved in their own lives, created to help a man get to his goal. Let’s be wary of this trope, and stop robbing our female characters of their own agency. We can do this in a few ways:

1. They aren’t convenient

One confusing fault of the female characters I read in my peers’ scripts was that she was always around right where the protagonist needed her to be. It didn’t matter if he was having a crisis in the alleyway, or by the museum, or in his own house, she’d show up like she’d been summoned.

She needed a place to be—a life outside of him. A job, school, hobbies. Sometimes when he needs her—she shouldn’t be there.

2. They have an actual personality

While being warm, kind, supportive, and empathetic are all admirable traits people do have, I’ve never met a real person where that’s all they were. Like building any character, she needs flaws, interests, something to her that isn’t just for other people’s benefit. Consider what traits she has that aren’t just ways she serves others.

Allow her something just for her. Something selfish.

3. They have and work towards a goal

Related to her not being convenient—she’s got her own thing going on. Like any other character, she has goals and objectives, motivations, something to work towards. As much as she supports the protagonist, she also takes from him to fulfill her own goal.

Give her wins, disappointments, a little something going on. Something to gain from her interactions with him.

              What else bothers you about common female character tropes? Or what did I miss?

[nomsfaultau]

[kikislesbianaunt]

yes absolutely 👏 good character writing isn't bucking trends for the sake of it it's breaking negative stereotypes and replacing them with good ones not with slightly different tropes that serve the same functional purpose (misogyny)

[kikislesbianaunt]

''You have to throw a lot of stones in life, but if you're able to assess that the size of the ripples it will make is not actually that big compared to the size of the pond, it makes it easier to throw the stone.''

- Charlie 🎭

[mirethos]

[kikislesbianaunt]

Of Every Dream I Killed

25th May 2026

Of every dream I killed,

none died quietly.

Most died with

a single howl

of wretched pain

and terror,

Or some begging,

pleading cry,

from some poor,

useless beggar.

Some died with less sound,

but none quietly.

Some with a hiss.

Some with a kiss;

The ones never meant

to stay for a while.

A single salute,

or a jesting rebuke -

I left those behind,

And they died with a smile.

But the ones that were always

meant to stay died screaming.

Not just a single,

wretched howl

(from a single injury

far too foul).

They lay there screaming,

behind my veneer,

for days, and weeks,

and months, and years.

A sound so loud from every one,

it drowned the others out.

Behind my eyes now, a concrete hall

that echoes when I shout.