Warning: THERE MIGHT BE DOUBLES.
We didn't directly cap this we did a pinterest run for it for a quick run through. THERE MIGHT even be leftover fan art. If you spot fan art in this, please let us know.
Random Thing I miss from the old days of The Internet (TM)
I miss when journal sites were the main place to RP. My version of social issues makes tumblr and board sites pretty much impossible. I’m just not that good at talking directly to people. But on journaling sites? I could get into a game, post an open RP, and be guaranteed that people in the game saw it. I could make journal posts and have long conversations ICly that lead to RP agreements! I could do so much and never, ever have to speak OOCly.
Even more, I got to be part of a group. I met a lot of people that way, honestly, even if I rarely spoke to them. Some I still speak to, sometimes!
But most of all, I miss the style. I miss writing and titling journal entries, reading other journal entries, making comments all over the place that turned into long threads and then combined with other threads until everyone was shouting and turns were lost. I miss putting little private labels on posts so my characters inner thoughts could be shared with the world without... really being shared with the world.
I miss playing with dozens of people in the same exact setting, being able to easily read up on their character and have an automatically shared location that made RP easy to set up.
I miss my character, some of which I haven’t written in YEARS because they were really made for journal RPing, honestly, and I wouldn’t know how to make them work elsewhere.
I miss X-men roleplays filled with OCs where I played two students, a teacher, and sometimes Professor X because why not? I miss Harry Potter RPs and my stuttering Hufflepuff who could barely cast a spell but mixed potions with a patience and expertise that annoyed Snape. I miss the fantasy boarding schools that gave me some of my favorite characters and some that I’d never write again but enjoyed at the time.
And I miss some individual characters. I miss James, who I played in just about every setting imaginable and at every age between 11 and 25. James, who did everything from turn into a mouse to control lighting to run away and live on the streets. James, the boy who survived trauma and neglect and knew fear, knew hunger, who tried so hard to love people but didn’t quite really know how, who had to be taught affection, had to be taught to stand... Man, I loved writing him.
I miss writing long journal entries before bed and waking up in the morning to write some replies before heading out and coming home to more.
Honestly, I mostly just miss steady RP. But my anxiety has kind of locked me in with the new styles, leaving me kind of... stuck. Alas and alack.
Were you a dead journal or live journal kid back in the early 2000s? All my friends were on Live Journal but I put all my deepest thoughts in Dead Journal. I long for the days when I can be dramatic and just complain online without worrying.
Hello, darlings. A new rambly little DeadJournal post has been shared on my website. You can read the post here on my blog directly (where you can also subscribe if you want to receive them in the future via email) or right here on Tumblr under the cut. 🦇☕🖤
The weather has been pleasantly gloomy the past couple of days. As I write this, I sit perched on my balcony beneath overcast skies – coffee in hand, my curated Halloween playlist betraying the summery atmosphere. This year has been very dreamy and nostalgic, overly hopeful in the best of times and overly dreary in the worst. You may think it insane, but I have this theory that the world we occupy now is not the same world I grew up in. The sun is whiter. The sky is sick and silvery. Seasons don’t exist. Time is breaking its own rules of how it’s supposed to flow. People are weird (and not in a good way).
Actually, there’s a lot of that out there right now – a lot of things that don’t feel quite the way they used to. And these changes aren’t even exciting. They’re boring. They’re stagnant. Pandemics? Aliens? War? These words have all lost their weight. No one bats an eye, because, these days, the ocean of existence feels more like still water. Rust and algae and bacteria cloud the ruins of a more optimistic outlook. It’s not that the past didn’t have its problems; it’s just that, at large, some of the worst experiences I’ve ever had were held afloat by a backbone of pervasive societal optimism for the future. And then it was gone.
It’s funny how your perspective can shift so dramatically over time. I have a number of scattered notes and unfinished essays on topics like these, things I’ve penned the moment observations were made or dots were connected. The desire to solve these problems seems to be braided stubbornly into my DNA. I strive for utopia even knowing the reality of human nature makes such a thing impossible to achieve. I’m more or less bound and gagged by my heart and soul to expand upon my crazy ideas, to tell my stories, to make a public spectacle of my art. That’s why I’m even here talking to you right now.
There are so many questions I’ve yet to answer, and I’m curious to know if others are wondering the same things. How did we get here? How do we reverse the damage that’s been done? When observing decay, what is the way forward if not back? When the flesh regenerates around a would, do the cells not seek to mimic optimal form? These conditions are not exactly conducive to the human spirit. We either heal or we die. We either find nuance and accountability or face total collapse.
While pondering these things, I feel like I have also entered a massive transitionary period in my own life. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, I am making a lot of connections and unlocking a lot of doors for myself. In most cases, at this point, it’s just a matter of drawing up the courage to step on through – to be brave enough to explore the unknown which exists just beyond. My business has been growing steadily. My spiritual endeavors have led to lucid dreams and out of body experiences. I’ve faced a lot of fears, made a lot of waves. It’s been a lot of hard work, taken a lot of time and effort.
Moreover, to avoid burnout or overload, I’ve been making a genuine effort to be present in my day-to-day than I have been previously. Baths, books, walks, the works. I try to enjoy the process of cooking, cleaning, eating, sleeping, existing. That brings peace, but nothing is without caveat. As a result, I found I’ve grown more distant from those things which keep one plugged in and imprisoned outside of themselves – like my phone. This can make socializing with long distance friends, of which I have a good amount, difficult. I find it challenging to push past the digital claustrophobia of advertisements, spam texts, and push notifications. To make matters worse, so to speak, I also have this inescapable craving for genuine connection, so when I finally do sit down to text with people, I desperately need it to be thoughtful and thorough. Small talk feels shallow and doesn’t really suit me. The result is hours at a time spent wading through junk notifications to make it to an unending carousel of catching up with no ideal pause points. This is something else that used to be different. People’s expectations are much different now. Figuring out a good balance has been challenging, to say the least. Advice is welcome.
In the meantime, though, as I said, I’m making an effort to be more present. I’m trying, for a lack of better phrasing, to clear the rubble of circa 2015 onward and to find myself again amidst the chaos of it all – the me that I remember before I became less confident, more jaded, exhausted. I find myself craving a cup of English breakfast and a blueberry muffin, a swipe of black lipstick and a spritz of patchouli, and though within reach, the concept of those things seems so far away. Even in returning to old haunts like Tumblr, Neopets, and Gaia Online, everything seems to have lost its magic. I look at online spaces like Discord, which are, in essence, real-time message boards, and yet, they’re hardly social or even welcoming.
I’ve started taking more pictures and videos in my day-to-day – tracking moments, memories. I think back to family members carrying around a camcorder during the holidays. I think back to I used to slather on makeup to do those artsy little photoshoots. It’s as if the more convenient something becomes, the less we’re inclined to do it. Why is that?
Anyway, enough rambling. I keep slipping back into the muck of what we’ve lost and not speaking quite enough on what I’ve been doing to combat it. I think the keys here – at least, in terms of correcting our own societal posture – lie in romanticism, authenticity, and breaking down the self in order to reunite the self. I’ve actually been journaling my process as I go and putting together a little freebie course for those who want to try it for themselves. I’ll, of course, share it with you all when that’s finished, but if you want someplace to start, I’ve got a couple of questions you can start pondering today.
One: When did the magic stop? As in, when did you start noticing that the things that used to excite you stopped doing so? People will say it’s age, but I started noticing changes across all age groups around a certain window of time, so I get the feeling that it’s more cultural than inherent. If you can identify this marker, you can make a clear distinction between then and now in order to adequately compare the two.
Two: What of your opinions, philosophies, and beliefs changed since then – and why? Now, this question only functions if you can be completely honest with yourself. I’ve seen so many of my loved ones claiming they’ve always felt this, they’ve always felt that, they’ve always hated that piece of media, they’ve always wanted to wear a certain style of clothing. And unless I really did slip and fall into a parallel timeline, that simply isn’t the case. Rather, they just want the people around them to believe it was. The magnetism of mob mentality has never been so strong, and I’ve seen more people than ever before willing and eager to mutilate themselves to fit into the uniform cavity they’re being forcefully shoved into.
Three: If you had total anonymity and all the resources in the world, who would you be? This also requires honesty. If you’re trying to paint a paragon picture of yourself, you’re not doing it right. Yes, I also want to save the world, but beyond that, there are things I would want for myself that would also make me happy – reading more books, writing more stories, things that are more personal. These questions aren’t for global problem-solving, they’re to learn more about yourself.
Four: What was it about the things that used to excite you that made them exciting? I’d wager that, in most cases, it’s some varying blend of very little to worry about mixed with unabashed wonder. It’s that latter part that’s really important when analyzing our own needs. We’ve become a largely brutalist society. Function over form. Moreover, referring back to question two, I’m sure there are a lot of things you’ve either totally ripped away from your Inner Child or corrupted in the name of “adultification” to make yourself more socially acceptable. Have you found it beneficial to do so?
If we’re truly trying to make the world a better place, it starts with us – and I don’t mean that in the cliche way. How can you expect to lead people in the right direction if you don’t even know which direction you’re walking in? How can you tell people, who are already disenchanted with the way of the world, that the path you walk is safe if you haven’t scouted ahead? And the mentality people have now is that nothing is ever going to change because no one actually cares enough to do anything about it. If that’s the case, why would they waste their own time? We don’t do anything because we don’t trust others to join us, but others don’t join us if we’re not doing anything in the first place. It’s an ouroboros of stagnation.
But that’s just me trekking into the muck again, and I have many an essay in the works that will go deep into the muck in the future, so I’ll wrap up here. There is much to discuss going forward, but until then, lots of love and all that jazz.
I need all the people in my notes assuming the Deadjournal option on that poll was a joke to know it very much was not a joke. There was a site called Deadjournal, and its vibe was basically Livejournal's edgy goth sister.
