my tree that links: https://linktr.ee/smiheartstarzz
Hi, I am Yolotli Moreno. Despite me wanting to have myself taken seriously I also really love the idea of having fun and whimsy! therefore this is my personal blog where I don’t car and reblog whatever I like and post whatever I want. The other ones are for my cool and awesome stuff like updates and art and whatnot (which I have to work on posting eventually!!!)
ALSO CBC’S PREVIEW IS OUT CHECK THAT OUT very awesome OC story I made (and the manfailure in my pfp appears there I loav James Finch): https://smiheart.neocities.org/Neuroshare/cbc_1
in case anyone is missing the sheer beauty of this french pun, in english it says "ominous" but broken up like a separated head and body - but in french "o minous" means "oh kitties"
for my fellow psychotics who struggle with thinking someone is in their house, a method I’ve found that really works are these guys:
i put them on my front door and anytime it opens they ring. that way if i think someone has broken in or i see someone who isn’t there i can think back to if the bells have rung, and if they haven’t i can assure myself it’s not real. obviously it’s not fool proof, like if you are prone to auditory hallucinations, but it has really helped me calm down in time to avoid major psychotic breaks. it’s a real lifesaver
preparing a warm bath for your f/o and they climb in beginning to relax and they close their eyes and dont notice you pouring some salt and spices and cutting carrots and cabbage to put in the water or the open fire boiling them from below
You are an unreliable narrator because your coping mechanisms for your deep-seated trauma forbid you from acknowledging the reality of the situation. I am an unreliable narrator because I sincerely have no idea what the fuck is going on.
#tfw you want to write a long essay about something you saw and really loved, but you are hit with an inexplicable wave of tiredness. (post writing note: "does he know?" /ref)
Anyways, I'm probably exaggerating because I have a literature teacher brain; I thoroughly enjoyed Backrooms (2026) and found it to be a deeply moving metaphor for alcohol addiction. It is about the complete corrosion of the self into the darkest pits of one's mind, and the devastating ripple effects that decay has on everyone else (while also being based on the concept of infinite empty rooms).
The film establishes this metaphor from the very first frame. When Clark first enters the complex, the first things he sees are a pile of furniture and televisions. At this point in the story, the furniture store, where he lives, is his identity and main priority. In fact, when he leaves the rooms for the first time, he immediately goes back inside just to retrieve an item for his store. However, as he delves deeper into the complex, this priority is quickly abandoned. Even when the exploration becomes openly dangerous, he pushes his real-world responsibilities aside to chase something deeper.
We learn from his very first therapy session that Clark has a short temper, struggles with severe alcohol addiction, and holds intense grudges against anyone he thinks has wronged him. When he walks into Mary's office, he proudly shares that he has found and mapped this unknown complex, noting that he has been sober "since Friday."
This specific timeline is a massive psychological tell. In medical reality, sudden alcohol withdrawal within the first 48 hours causes severe, vivid hallucinations. The person experiencing them can feel that something is deeply wrong with their head, yet the visions feel entirely real. The Backrooms are essentially the physical manifestation of Clark's sudden sobriety. When Mary tries to gently check on his mental state, Clark instantly flips. He becomes furious and lashes out at Mary. He even demands an apology from her and is set on proving Mary wrong by finding proof that these rooms exist. He very much wants validation that his distorted reality is correct, and that everyone else is wrong.
This toxic infatuation with mapping his own mind, a place filled with misremembered details and warped versions of reality, quickly spreads to the people around him. Clark drags his young adult employees, Kat and Bobby, into exploring and recording the rooms. These two young people never wanted to be involved; both of them openly expressed their reluctance to enter the space or feed into Clark’s new obsession.
Tragically, neither of them makes it out alive. They are hunted down and killed by a creature residing in the rooms. Yet, even this horrifying incident fails to stop Clark. He is already too far gone into the Backrooms to care about the lives he just ruined. In a chilling display of how addiction completely replaces human empathy, Clark doesn't even mourn them normally. He keeps Kat's physical remains around just to keep him company in the empty space.
Once some time has passed, Clark leaves a final voicemail for his therapist, Mary. He states that he will not be returning to their sessions because he has "opened up a new window." This alarming message prompts immediate concern within her, leading her to check in at his store. The scene Mary encounters perfectly captures the quiet aftermath of someone who has willingly abandoned their own life. His store was left completely unlocked with weeks of unread mail piling up at the bottom of the doors. Clark's voicemail reads like a final note more than anything.
Mary’s own background, given through vague flashbacks, explains why she steps across just to find Clark. Having faced a harsh childhood where she ultimately reported and institutionalized her own mother, Mary carries an immense weight of guilt. Seeing her mother left in a dull state has driven Mary to take on a self-imposed savior complex. She tolerates Clark's toxicity because she is trying to retroactively compensate for being unable to save her mother. Driven by this burden, she descends into the basement and enters the complex. After discovering a disturbing mural by Clark, she finally locates him. Clark is now in a totally unhinged state of mind, entirely stripped of his past self-restraint. The moment Mary tries to intervene, Clark does something he never would have done beforehand: he violently chokes her until she passes out.
Mary wakes up tied to a chair at a surreal dinner table, surrounded by Clark and several disfigured human entities known as "still-lifes." Clark explains that he has found total solace in the Backrooms. He notes that the complex remembers everything that ever was, but "not quite right", which is a perfect metaphor for how memory deteriorates under chronic substance abuse. Furthermore, Clark thoroughly enjoys that these still-lifes are essentially non-sentient and unresponsive objects. He treats them as furniture and even food, claiming that eating them is the best part. By bragging that these entities have no ego or feelings, Clark exposes the ultimate fantasy of an egocentric addict: a world where he can completely consume and dehumanize everyone around him without any emotional consequences.
The breaking point arrives when Clark scalps a female still-life to use her hair as a wig for Mary. He forces her to roleplay the exact night his wife kicked him out, like in the beginning of the film. However, Mary refuses to act as a prop in his delusion. No longer willing to tolerate his mental state, she finally snaps and yells the truth at him: he always looks for excuses to blame others, while never taking accountability for anything he does. Confronted with his total separation from reality, Clark finally admits that he doesn't want to change or leave the Backrooms. He believes he belongs in this empty abyss.
It is at this exact moment, after Mary confirms that he doesn't have to change, that Clark's delusion completely shatters. The scalped female still-life is the literal manifestation of his ex-wife's memory. She flees from the scene in sheer terror as something approaches. This sudden act of survival proves Clark's previous statements wrong; she does have an ego and feels fear. By running away at the exact moment the monster appears, her flight exposes a dark reality. Clark's wife didn't just "kick him out" because of a simple drinking habit; she fled to escape the objectifying domestic abuse born from his egocentrism.
Her escape reveals a monstrous version of Clark dressed up as his furniture store mascot, a beast Clark has befriended. The mascot is a mockery of Clark's human likeness and a physical representation of all his horrid qualities. In fact, it is the only entity that seems to possess any sentience, though it is purely animalistic. After all, alcoholism is a monster that never asks you to change and accepts you exactly for who you are. As long as it can keep hurting you, it will remain happy with you.
Clark tries to introduce Mary to the creature, claiming she is safe because she doesn't require either of them to change. But just as Clark's issues consumed his mind, the mascot takes a violent bite out of his shoulder, inevitably consuming the last bit of life from him.
Horrified, Mary flees the creature to escape the complex. As she runs through the distorted memory of the furniture store, she uses a rock from her childhood home to defend herself. By smashing the creature and breaking the rock, she metaphorically destroys the generational guilt and the self-imposed burden that forced her to try and save Clark, and the monster that destroyed her client and now wants to destroy her, too.
Yet, the film denies us a happy ending. Even though Mary physically escapes the complex and is saved by a group of professionals, her mind remains trapped within those minimal walls. The overwhelming guilt and the trauma of witnessing Clark's decline are permanently ingrained in her mind, proving that survivors of a loved one's addiction can rarely move on clean.
When the topic becomes about racism between children you very quickly realise children of colour aren't seen as children but as some other thing that should just take the abuse and then forgive the Real White Children because they didn't know better. They don't understand it but children of colour can and will very early in their youth.
hihihi!!! I hope you are having a wonderful day/afternoon! I was wondering if I could request a stimboard for one of my OCs (his name is James Finch)? I would preferably like a few bird related stims, but anything that fits my Neurologist/researcher is more than fine w/ me <33
James is from my story, Controlled By Choices. The story itself has a lot of tech and mental health themes (methinks) and it takes place in 2005, which I hope is enough to work with. Please and Thank You!
