#inner analysis

[onthe-d-arkside]

Vore as a reflection

Content Warning: This post touches on heavy themes (bullying, mental health crises, self-harm ideation, hints of harming others and trauma). If that’s not what you’re here for, feel free to skip it. I’m writing this in one raw, unfiltered stream of consciousness - typical 3 AM brain dump.

At night, the hyper-logical part of my brain shuts down, and the mafia empathetic side takes over. Basically, I’m drawn to either writing deeply emotional texts (about myself and my projects - yes, that’s the secret to my character immersion) or diving into self-analysis.

So… I recently realized I’ve loved vore, in one form or another, my entire life. I just never connected the dots. Movies, cartoons, and shows featuring consumption or entrapment always stuck in my head. Think about it: as a kid watching Qumi-Qumi, the only episode I distinctly remember is the one where they wake up a monster and try to escape its stomach… I was so young...

Middle school was pure chaos. I was bullied by my entire class for four years. I felt like my strength and sanity were being tested daily. I told myself: If they’re going to call me a monster, I’ll become one. And I did. You haven’t met my sona yet, but believe me - it were born around this time. A dragon, originally created to shield my soul from betrayal, but over time, that image twisted. I tried to split my personality into pieces. I only partially succeeded, but I learned to bury the old me beneath a hardened shell.

I used to be so open and trusting. I made friends easily and assumed everyone around me was safe. I was wrong. Deadly wrong. I withdrew, pushing people away before they could hurt me. But I found a new kind of strength: I channeled my anger and trauma into something useful. I’d been taught self-defense since kindergarten (this was still the post-Soviet after “wild 90s” era, people tried to reabilitate from it). When words failed me, I knew I could physically brake them. Humans, after all, are surprisingly fragile~

My inner world grew dark, filled with blood and cruelty. I hated people. In my mind, I’d brutally tear them apart and feed them to some monsters (that's still a source of inspiration, but you don't want to ask me about it, spell you). It’s hard to admit, but back then, I was deeply drawn to hard and lethal vore. Yet on the surface, I kept it all locked away. For the record: I never actually fought anyone at school.

Music was my release valve. Even now, when I'm not in the mood, I turn on loud heavy music. Imagine a girl blasting Death Metal or Thrash Metal. I’m obsessed with the DOOM soundtracks or sth like Orbit Culture’s - “Mute the Silent.” Give them a listen - you’ll get exactly what I mean.

Did you think it would last forever? No. One particularly awful day in ninth grade, I decided it was time to get this over with. How do you prove you’re not just all bark and no bite? You piercing your teeth into flesh. I picked up a knife. Out of my mind, I just walked to school. My parents didn’t notice. My siblings were wrapped up in their own lives… Too easy.

I’d lived by a strict moral code since childhood. But it had a loophole: nowhere did it explicitly say I couldn’t harm others… Reality hit me only in the school hallway. Two teachers were on duty by the stairs. My homeroom teacher had always defended me of bulling, and my English teacher was basically my best friend… I snapped out of it. My rational mind fought to take over. Another rule kicked in: I must obey elders. I collapsed in their hands, whispering “Stop me…”

They brushed it off, saying it wasn’t the right time or place, but it was enough. The day passed quietly. Apparently, no one took it seriously. Even didn't tell my parents… Only I knew how close I’d come to crossing a line. I'm powerful enough to it and it still terrifies me. But more importantly, it taught me to cling to the people who actually matter.

Four years have passed. “friendship” feels like an empty word to me now. I let people in easily and let them go just as fast. I don’t get attached and I never give a chance to hit me. Never let my regards down... The only people I trust completely are my family. I finally accepted that they’ve always been on my side.

Inside, things shifted. The inner fire dimmed, and the dragon, with no battles left to fight, finally fell asleep. That doesn’t mean I lost my strength - quite the opposite. I learned how to wield it. I’m ready to stand up for my people and tear apart anyone who threatens them. I’ve also learned to read people: their appearence, their voice, body language. It keeps me far away from toxic individuals.

I started volunteering. Every Saturday, I run workshops for kids at the local library. Sometimes, kids shout after me on the street. They know me as “Drakosha - D(name)”. You might not understand, but “Drakosha” is a soft, affectionate Russian diminutive for “dragon.” I have three younger siblings, and somewhere along the way, I developed “big sister syndrome.” I’m constantly trying to guide, protect, and teach those younger than me. I’m even considering a second degree in education. Sixteen years of being the oldest definitely did this to me…

I’ve come to deeply value soft vore now. Comfort. Care. Protection. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Even my sona reads as a deeply caring guardian. I know my past left scars, so I try to keep my fangs and claws sheathed, hoping people won’t fear me. I used to growl and bare my teeth just to prove I was dangerous. That mindset also led me to a trope I love (and plan to explore in SVHB part?): when prey sees a gentle predator suddenly turn feral - not out of hunger, but to protect someone they care about. Look at my blog tags again: g/t vore, caretaking, willing, fearplay. It all clicks now, in hindsight…

I’ll leave you with two takeaways:

1. Even the calmest lake can unleash a tidal wave if you stir it deep enough.

2. Self-reflection can happen through the weirdest places - even through niche hobbies and fictional tastes.

That’s all for today. Thank you for reading this far. If you want to share your thoughts, go on. Promise, I won’t bite now. 💜

[carmst05-blog]

Who Are You and What Am I?

I’ve never been one for drawing, in fact I’m fairly terrible at it. However, when we were told to create a collage of our beliefs and values, I honestly had no intention of using Photoshop (something which I am good at). For some reason, I had to do this assignment by hand, not computer.  

Maybe it’s because I’ve started to loosen the grip media has on me, or maybe the fact it relaxed me to create something by hand much like I did when I was younger. 

But that isn’t what this post is about. This post, is about who I am as a person and what I discovered when making this. 

it wasn’t easy. Answering the question of “Who Am I?” is no easy feat because there are many things to identify yourself as. I am female, I am white, I am a writer, a Christian and many other things. One word cannot describe someone because we’re made up of so much more. Hence the collage. 

My collage as you can see is covered in words. This is because I often find myself drifting to the status of writer. If someone asks me, who are you, what are your interests, I always go straight to writing because it’s something I do on a daily basis. But to dive deeper into this ocean, it’s also what connects me to my family. Growing up, there was only ever myself, my brother and my parents. All my relatives lived to far away to visit over holidays and such so it was always just us four. My brother and I never really talked much when growing up. He had his world and I had mine. It wasn’t until we discovered our love for creating lands and “going on adventures” that we really began to bond and grow closer together. And now, he is my beta as much as I am his. In case you’re wondering, beta is a term used to describe someone who offers advice over the plot of a story. They are similar to an editor but unpaid and don’t focus much on the actual editing part). 

That’s only one part of who I am though. Sometimes, more than I’d like to admit, I forget that I am a Christian. My Christianity is important to me, but it’s so easy to get caught up in the secularism that my faith is…non-existent. That terrifies me too. My faith is what has connected me to my dad and my closest friends and I am not someone who makes friends easily. My dad is a pastor so he’s devoted his whole life to his faith. Sometimes it’s hard to talk with him because he’s always away, focusing on the Church and it’s needs. But other times he’s wonderful to be around because he loves me incredibly so and gives me that best advice a girl could ask for. My faith is a part of me because it has allowed me to connect to him in a different way than most father-daughter relationships. But more importantly, my faith, my Christianity, gives me confidence to continue on when life pulls the rug out from under me (which is way too often). 

I touched earlier on the aspect of myself not making friends easily. This goes to another thing on my collage which is the big wolf. Often in my life i have found myself to be similar to that of a wolf. While I don’t have large amounts of fur nor fangs it’s more so in the persona that I comply. I have always found myself to be that of a lone wolf. Someone who doesn’t really fit in anywhere or with anyone.  I wander aimlessly through people and crowds. I don’t stand out, but I don’t really blend in either. I am the individual who is on the inside looking out. The idea of “There must be something more than this” is a statement that floats through my head enough to become a regular occurrence. Other aspects of who I am have brought me closer to those I care about but this part of me has never truly felt accepted. I don’t know why but it’s still the case. 

My values, and beliefs come mainly from my faith but I can’t simply assess myself to three things can I? People, physically, are made up of so many different things that it only makes sense for ourselves, emotionally, mentally and personally to be too. Identity cannot be answered with a simple word or phrase. Stereotypes cannot define a person but only add to who they are, if they even do apply. I don’t think this question can ever be truly answered. As we grow old, we discover new things about ourselves all the time. When your relationships change things about you change. Realistically, the question of “Who Am I?” can never be answered because there is no definite answer. Who I was when i was younger and not who I am now. And who I am now will not be who I am in the future. 

So when it comes down to it, I can’t answer a question when I have no definite answer. And I have to be okay with the constant struggle of this question and that fact that I will never truly know. 

And I think I am. 

“The only thing that is constant  is change.” ~ Heraclitus 

[sungxi]

Wow like I need to calm tf down and meditate or something damn count to ten and make a triangle what's wrong with me this isn't very zen at all