Post from a random timeline

all post are purely fiction

[eleutheria4ever]

“source?” divine intuition, gut instinct, and cryptic symbolism from my dreams

[sircantus]

There’s a god in the forest that wears my mothers face.

It doesn’t smile the way she used to. It speaks with her voice, but it fails to say her words. Her eyes are too blurry, distant and drifting, and maybe if they didn’t glow during the late, dark evenings, i could pretend that its her, and she’s just forgotten how to look at me with love, mind riddled with something painfully human, like amnesia.

My grandma says that the gods who come to earth often take the form of whoever catches their attention. They are curious, attention-lacking beings, and its better to recognize a god by their eyes than their appearance, with how often they shift.

The god in the forest has been wandering in the trees for a couple months now. Each time i catch a glimpse, i see my mother, her hair unnaturally unkept, her walk slow and unsure. I’m not meant to talk to gods. Grandma says itll lead me to my mother’s fate, but my heart hurts so much, I just want to hear her again. I just want to pretend.

I go out to the forest. I approach the god with careful steps, and a polite smile. My mom smiles back.

The joy is short-lived, hollow and cold, and it soon turns to a bitterness as I remember I’ll never see her true face again. My real mom rests six feet below the dirt. This god wears her face like an simple outfit.

“Why do you still wear that face?” I demand, too angry, too harsh. The god and my mother blink at me in something confused. “She’s dead.” I say, but i mean to tell them to move on. Maybe I’m trying to tell myself to do that too.

The god blinks again. My mom’s face shifts into an upset pain, and my chest squeezes in a panic of a daughter who’s made a mistake. Tears fall to the ground, and they aren’t mine. I didn’t know gods could cry.

“I don’t know.” It whispers out at me, so confused and distressed, like a child who can’t comprehend what they’ve done wrong. “I don’t know.” She repeats, over and over until they’ve wandered off again.

I go home. I don’t tell anyone what I’ve seen. Gods aren’t meant to grieve, to hold onto love. That is something human. I wonder if the god outside still counts as a god, then. Maybe she’s become painfully human.

[obsob]

i love doing crochet. i love doing weaving things with fabrics. i feel like if 600 year old ancestor of mine walked into the room she would be like, oh can i join u? 

[silverjirachi]

one thing i really really like about lolita fashion is the idea of planning a coordinate. You buy a dress. Then you buy all the silly little items to go with that dress. Your dress has bunnies with pink bows on it, and one day out of random chance you find an unrelated necklace with a bunny and pink bows, and you think to yourself “omg this necklace would go so good with my Sugar Candy Magnificent Bunny with Pink Bows dress” and so then you buy it. if’s so cute. it’s like buying little friends for your clothing

[silverjirachi]

the other thing i really like is when lolitas match their clothing to the event they’re attending. lolitas will go to the aquarium and be like “omg finally it’s time for me to wear my Sparkly Aquarium Rainbow Happy Fish Dress” and then do

[abracadaze]

i feel so bad for nikola tesla like imagine spending years beefing with a guy who has conned the public into believing he's some sort of supergenius when in reality it's his overworked employees developing all of his world-changing inventions and you end up dying broke and starving and alone and then 200 years later another guy cons the public into believing he's some sort of supergenius when in reality it's his overworked employees developing all of his world-changing inventions and he's doing it all IN YOUR NAME. he must be rolling in his grave like a fucking rotisserie chicken

[maglorslostsilmaril]

You lay in your bed, listening as your parents walk up the stairs. That can't be right, they went to bed hours ago.

It's hot in summer, too hot for blankets, especially when your fan is so loud. The darkness has other plans, though, and soon your feet are under the blankets.

Walking down the hallway, you could swear something moves in the room to your left. When you look, there’s no one there. Merely a shadow.

The night creates strange shapes, and sometimes, even when you turn on the light, it’s hard to convince yourself that no one is sitting on your chair, its merely a stack of pillows.

In video games, you can’t sleep until you're free of danger. Some nights, as you lie totally awake, you wonder how much of that translates to reality.

Late at night and early in the morning, you get the feeling you aren't alone. Everyone gets it. No one mentions it.

Many people lived in your house before you. They can’t have taken everything. Every once in a while, you find something of theirs. It feels like treasure. You wonder what else they left behind.

The wind moans when it rains, but sometimes there’s more than one voice. The house is singing along.

The dog likes to growl at nothing, just stares into space and barks. Is there really nothing there? You don’t know

Trinkets seem to appear and disappear. Sometimes they’re gone for months. Sometimes you never find them. Sometimes, they show up broken in half at the back of your closet. You don’t sleep well those nights.

When everyone is asleep, it feels like the house comes alive. It creaks and shudders, and the unease you feel is greater than ever. You curl up under your covers as quiet as possible, praying the house doesnt notice.

[baconpncakes]

You are in love with your best friend. You've known him your whole life. He's the new kid, you just met him this year. You were 28 and he bailed you out of jail. You're way too busy to date. You've been married three times. You met a pretty girl and you want to take her dancing. Your girlfriend died and you couldn't save her. You're a doctor. You're a student. You're a dreamer. Your dad is ruining your life. Your dad is dead. You don't talk about your parents much. You're an only child. You have a younger brother and he thinks the world of you. You have two brothers and one of them is gone and it's all your fault. Your best friend is slipping away and there's nothing you can do about it. He's right here and you promised you'd take care of him. He promised they'd never split you apart but he lied. He gave up everything for you. He gave up everything you believed in. He never gave up, even after you did. You're dying and it's not fair. You're trapped. There's nothing else you can do about it. They're going to kill you. It's going to kill you. You're going to kill you. You danced until you died. You took your final bow. You ran away together. The last thing you heard was your brother. The last thing you did was relent. The last thing you saw was your best friend. You were good. You were really good.

[post-from-a-random-timeline]

Avoid the library basement after the sunsets, it's not the same place as before.

Ignore the dark hallway whispering your name behind the nonfiction section,

If you end up behind the nonfiction section you'll find shelves of books. The book titles will be formatted like this: Name year-year

They will allow you to read one (1) book.

Don't read the books if the ending date hasn't passed yet. They won't let you leave if you do.

Don't read the book with your name on it.

Don't say anythings that could be interpreted as a questions.

Don't damage any of the books.

You'll see humanesque figures walking between the shelves. When you're ready to leave approach one and say that you'd like to trade your favor for help finding the exit.

Don't say thank you, that would be acknowledging a debt owned.

Tell them you appreciate their help.

The librarians can't lie to you that doesn't mean they won't try to trick you into staying.

Don't listen when they say you can read another book, they're trying to trick you.

After you leave don't come back. You won't be able to find the exit again.

Don't accept their offer for unlimited knowledge, you'll never leave if you do.

[appropriate-as-always]

Autumn is here, folks, and your local Iowan is here to remind you of the basic principles of Corn Maze Safety:

Make sure you go with a partner! You don’t want to be alone and lost in the maze!

Take a map! You may want to try navigate on your own, but it’s best to keep a guide handy in case you lose your way!

Bring a water bottle with a sealed top! It will keep you hydrated, and the closed top will stop any water from spilling on the thirsty corn. Remember, thirsty corn is docile corn!

Wear long sleeves! Although dead leaves aren’t quite as sharp as green leaves, they can still cut you. And they will, if you give them the chance.

If a stalk does draw blood, spill some water from your bottle on the ground near its roots and move on. Hopefully, the water will quench its thirst long enough for you to escape.

Be careful what you eat before you go into the maze! Avoid cornstarch, corn syrup, and all corn products. The corn can smell itself in your blood.

Remember, scarecrows are there for YOUR protection. As long as the corn thinks you’re with others, it won’t make any sudden moves.

If you see a scarecrow wave, wave back. It gets lonely, and you will too if you’re not kind.

If you are alone in a cornfield, pretend you’re talking to a friend! The plants have ears, but no eyes, and they are easily fooled. Get out before they catch wise!

The breeze is lying to you; don’t listen to it. It cannot lead you home.

If you’re lost, look to the sun for directions, not the shadows. The shadows like to watch you struggle.

Never, ever walk off the provided paths! The paths are safe routes carefully created by the farmer. If you leave the path, you may never see it again.

Keep an eye on the time while wandering! You don’t want to be in a cornfield after dark. You really don’t.

In a pinch, many people try praying to the Harvest God for assistance. This is often a poor choice; you’re just as likely to be harvested as you are to be helped.

If you see a single green corn stalk among the brown, turn around. You don’t want to know how it keeps itself warm in the cold.

Remember, Corn Mazes can be fun autumnal activities if you’re careful! Just follow these simple rules and you’ll almost certainly make it home.

[pecanplease]

You’re At The Party

You do your best to avoid them You don’t attend their games You don’t enter their sacred house You pay no mind to the lights and sounds that come out of it But the stories The stories you listen to You tell your friends that you don’t care You tell yourself it’s a morbid curiosity It’s in your best interest, you convince yourself, to remain informed It’s the best way to steer clear of them You can’t help it if everything seems to revolve around them All the gossip All the news All the people All your thoughts

Now you’re at the party and you don’t know how you got there You said you’d never come but here you are The room is hazy but your sight is the clearest it’s ever been You don’t remember how you got here That guy invited you You could have sworn he’d already graduated but he had a nice voice and a face you can’t remember He told you that the parties were significant He told you that you wouldn’t regret coming You don’t regret it Not yet anyway

You haven’t had anything to drink but the world feels different than it ever has before It feels like you matter It feels like you’ve reached the center of something Your friend passes you a plate of dessert You can’t place her name but for some reason it doesn’t feel important right now You can’t recall your own name either But you recall hearing about the dessert So you take a bite You take a bite and it’s like reality shifts As you swallow your first bite you see one of them a few feet away And you realize that you’ve never seen them before It’s a ridiculous thought You’ve seen them in the quad and in the library and in the cafe But suddenly you can’t imagine any of that What does the library look like? When was the last time you went to the cafe? Have you ever even been to the cafe? Have you ever been anywhere other than right here In this moment

A second passes or an eternity or maybe just as long as it takes to read a few bubbles of dialogue He’s gone He’s gone and so is the feeling The feeling of being frozen in time Of not having a name or an identity Or a world outside of this building Your friend takes your plate and asks if you want to dance You mean to ask her if she felt that But by the time the words reach your mouth you’ve forgotten them Forgotten the feeling You recompose yourself A little confused but you know that this kind of party can be disorienting You don’t like dancing but the party makes you want to try anyway

The night is a whirlwind The guy you can’t remember was right Everything feels significant You feel more real than you ever have before And it delights you And it terrifies you

You wake up the next morning and the night before feels like a fever dream You didn’t drink anything but you can’t remember how you got home You feel like you never went to the party You feel like you’re still at the party You feel like you’ll never not be at that party

Your phone pings Your friend is texting you about the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team And you’re at the party again

[abortionado]

Spencer-Gothic

• You’re the last child to be picked up at after-school daycare. The building smells of cleaning bleach, and the lights are being turned off one-by-one. Late pickup ends at 7.

It’s 7:30, now.

Is your father coming? Is anyone coming? Have they forgotten about you?

Your teacher stares at the clock.

It’s 8:00.

8:30.

Did you ever have a father? Have they forgetten about you?

9:00. The darkness at the end of the hallway seems to creep towards you.

When you turn around, your teacher has vanished.

Has everyone forgotten about you?

• You typically spend hours in this library. You love to take in the scent of the old, used books. You love to run your fingers down their cracked spines, and you delight the crisp rustling of a turning page. You love the quiet.

Now, though, you’re not so sure you’re enjoying yourself.

Today, you’ve been continually locking eyes with the same expressionless stranger, who always seems to be directly opposite you—it’s as if he’s spent hours waiting for you on the other side of these shelves.

You’ve both just reached for the same book, and the stranger’s rested his hand on top of yours.

You’re not quiet sure what sort of hand this is,

but you can tell it isn’t human.

• You have excellent visual recall, and you’re able to trace the vast majority of your seemingly irrational fears and aversions back to past discomforts and traumas.

There is, you’ve found, a solid reason for very nearly every part of your psyche. You’re an exceptionally logical person, and you don’t indulge in phobia and superstition.

You don’t like spiders, for example, because when you were three years old, you were bitten by a spider and left with an unpleasant, itchy mark that lasted a week.

You don’t like driving, because when you were six, you and your father drove past a horrific crash on the interstate, and you’ve never quite been able to shake it.

There’s just one thing you’re unsure of.

You know it must be lurking in your memory somewhere, but you can’t bring yourself to yank it out—why are you so afraid of the dark?

[beedinaayi-deactivated20230514]

SOUTH INDIAN RURAL GOTHIC

There is a light on the top of the hill. You visit the next day. All you find is an abandoned temple in ruins. If you return safely, don't visit again. The temple spirits now have a taste for your blood.

There are trails between the scrubs. No one walks them except those five in the night. Don't ask them what they do there. You are better off not knowing.

Yes, the snakes are growing bolder. But do not kill them. Do not test the celestial serpents, Vasuki, Kalinga, Karkotaka and the others. No one survives their revenge.

If you live in the hills, lock the doors and windows at night. Keep a gun next to you, maybe a hound. The tiger of the western hills has developed a taste for human flesh.

If you must drive the hill roads at night, pick a god and pray hard. The fog has a physical presence here and it shows little mercy. It might just push you off a precipice.

Keep off the rice fields at night. If you must go, avoid the banyan tree at all costs. If you someone beneath it, or sitting on the branches, run as hard as you can.

Don't wear white clothes at night. The witches will claim you or the villagers will shoot you. We are a superstitious bunch but can you blame us?

Pay your respects to the guardians of your farm and hearth. leave some milk for the idols. Their honour is prickly. If they see fit to withdraw their protection, you are doomed.

People will ask you for oil for Kali's sacrifice. Give them what they want. The goddess is fearsome in her wrath and no one witnesses it and lives.

Water nourishes, lives and spirits. The Brahmarakshsa lives in your well, many more live in the lake. Be careful there. Many people have drowned there. The slopes are slippery and the spirits are greedy.

The predominant rural sceneries of south India

[post-from-a-random-timeline]

Does anyone know if the asexuals are planning on changing the name of Denmark since they successfully invaded it?

[post-from-a-random-timeline]

Won't it have been crazy if J.K Rowling lived long enough to make a Twitter? To bad we won't be able to find out what it would have been like since she died after publishing the last harry potter book.