Just a guy

Madness is in all the little things. Italian, 20 years old

[vilozier-blog]

Chapter 1: “Madness”

I was in my office. It was seven o'clock, monday, october; that morning was colder than usual, but how could I say that; I've lost the track of what's real and what is not, what can hurt me... or what can save me. My life became a rushdown of events that made me cold and distant, the only "satisfaction" I had was to go back to my Mary; even though it wasn't that much...

Last night I saw her lose her phisical form for a second, just before turning back to normal. One of these days she's gonna kill me, eat me and make me go mad.

*SIGH*

Finally everything will go to an end, the allucinations so creepily real, my empty life...

Once back home I didn't find anyone, there was only a note on the fridge: " I can't do it, I'm sorry - Mary".

So I was right...

I decided to leave, i couldn't take it anymore... not like that...

I hadn't even done three kilometres and the road started changing, bending in the air, It didn't impress me, I already had allucinations like that in the past, I just tried to stay on the right side of the road.

I woke up later, did I sleep? Did i pass out? Who knows.

The car wasn't starting, no matter what I did trying to fix it, so I decided to go by foot. Out of the car I saw a man with an axe, covered in blood, getting closer to me. I didn't run, I knew he wasn't true.

I walked for what seemed to be hours without reaching any place,*LONG AND DEEP SIGH*, not that i had one to move to.

All that could be heard was the man laughing and following me, with slow and heavy steps, with a laugh capable of making my blood freeze and my muscles go numb; but nothing mattered, after all... he didn't exist.

While I was walking I could feel something warm dripping down my leg, with that a different laugh, more affective and familiar. Few words:" Goodbye, my love". A blow and everything went dark.

Now I could feel warm, I was trying to open my eyes. Nothing, I could feel them but I could not use them.

Finally I saw my body close to a lit fireplace, sleeping, breathing just enough not to suffocate.

I didn't understand what was happening, but it didn't matter... not anymore at least.

I tried to understand where I was: the room was dark and the fire looked like it was absorbing the light instead of giving off it.

I woke up and placed what seemed to be a log in the fire, passing out, again, without a meaning.

When I woke up the room was gone, obviously. It seemed that these "blackouts" where taking me in different places, always a bit more... "dead".

Now I was standing in a garden full of flowers of intense, different colours giving off different perfumes, each one more attractive than the other.

Something was wrong though, I could feel it.

I ran far away, until I found myself in another garden, far similar to the other: the flowers of these one were dead or painted of a red unnaturally intense; the earth were these flowers stood was dripping blood.

I took some and stored them in my pocket.

It was the first time I saw those strange flowers and they made me feel... scared?

It's been a while since the last time I felt something, as the time was passing I was becoming more and more absent, but it hasn't been always like this.

[vilozier-blog]

Capitolo 1: “La pazzia”

Ero nel mio ufficio, sette di mattina, lunedì, ottobre; quella mattina era più fredda del solito, ma come faccio a dirlo; ormai ho perso la cognizione di ciò che è reale e cosa no, ciò che può uccidermi… e ciò che può salvarmi. La mia vita era diventata un susseguirsi di eventi che mi avevano fatto diventare freddo e distante, l’unica mia “soddisfazione” era tornare dalla mia Mary; per quanto sia una soddisfazione ben magra… l’altra notte l’ho vista perdere forma per qualche secondo per poi ricomporsi. Uno di questi giorni mi ucciderà, mangiandomi e  facendomi impazzire.

*SOSPIRO*

Finalmente tutto finirà, le allucinazioni così reali, una vita così vuota… tornato a casa non trovai nessuno, solo un biglietto sul frigo: “non posso farlo, mi dispiace – Mary”. Quindi avevo ragione… decisi di partire, non potevo continuare così… non più… non avevo fatto neanche tre chilometri che la strada cambiò forma, snodandosi nell’aria, io non mi stupii, mi era già successo di avere allucinazioni del genere, io cercai solo di rimanere in corsia. Mi risveglia poco dopo, avevo dormito? Ero svenuto? Chi può dirlo. La macchina non voleva saperne di partire, perciò decisi di andare a piedi. Uscito dalla macchina vidi un uomo con un’ascia ricoperto di sangue che si avvicinava. Non scappai, sapevo che non era vero. Continuai a camminare per ore, senza raggiungere nessun luogo, *SOSPIRO LUNGO E PROFONDO*, non che ne avessi uno. Tutto ciò che si poteva sentire era quell’uomo ridere e seguirmi, con un passo lento e pesante e con una risata che mi faceva gelare le ossa e intorpidire i muscoli, ma nulla importava, dopotutto… non esisteva. Continuando a camminare sentii un liquido caldo scendermi sulla gamba, insieme a una risata diversa, molto più calda e affettiva, poche parole:”Addio, amore mio”. Un colpo e fu buio. Ora faceva caldo, provavo ad aprire gli occhi, nulla, li sentivo, ma non potevo aprirli. Finalmente riuscii a vedere il mio corpo, addormentato, che respirava a malapena accanto a un camino acceso. Non capivo cosa mi stesse succedendo, ma non mi importava… non più perlomeno. Cercai di capire dove mi trovassi: la stanza era buia e il fuoco sembrava assorbire la luce più che produrne. Mi svegliai e misi ciò che mi sembrava un ceppo nel fuoco, svenendo, di nuovo, senza un motivo apparente. Al mio risveglio la stanza era scomparsa, ovviamente. Questi “blackout” sembravano portarmi in luoghi sempre diversi, sempre più… “morti”. Ora mi trovavo in un giardino in fiore, con colori accesi e odori che attiravano sempre più. Qualcosa però era sbagliato, lo sentivo. Scappai lontano, finchè non mi ritrovai un altro giardino, molto diverso dal primo: i fiori di questo erano morti o avevano un colore rosso e la terra su cui appoggiavano grondava sangue. Ne presi qualcuno e li misi nel taschino. Era la prima volta che vedevo dei fiori del genere e mi facevano sentire… spaventato? Da un bel po’ di tempo ero diventato completamente assente, ma non è stato sempre così.

[themysteryoftheunknownuniverse]

The evolution of Connie 

[boarboy-old-blog]

Videogames: you can choose from twenty different eyelashes!!!! oh but you can’t be fat

[onsomekingggshit]

Yeah, whine about how you can’t have a fat character that can scale walls, or sprint. Please whine more.

[boarboy-old-blog]

you’re so right kiddo….. games are very realistic……. like the parts where you die and then come back again? classic realism. 

[prokopetz]

[warlock-enthusiast]

but we can’t have fat people in videogames because fat people are the real fantasy creatures and not like… the dragons. and of course, every thin person can scale a wall. sure sure.

[m0nsterbrains]

Y’know what, here’s something that’s been pissing me off for a while. 

Fat? Easy to gain. So so easy. Our bodies want to keep fat around, because we’re designed not to starve.

Dropping fat? NOT so easy. When people talk about “losing fat,” what they’re saying is “I need to override millions of years of genetics to convince my body I’m not dying and it doesn’t need this carefully-stored fuel.” Dieting? Your body thinks it’s starving. Work out like crazy? Your body thinks it’s in a situation where it needs to bring the hammer down on the regular, and that means you need more fuel – speaking just for myself, I want to eat the world after I lift. That shit doesn’t melt away, even if you’ve been training like a motherfucking monster for months and eating right, because the body wants to keep it.

So yeah, the “eat less move more” doctrine can fuck itself right in the face. 

There are very, very active fat people, fat people who are experts at every sport and physical activity you can imagine. But because fat rests on top of the muscle, you don’t know when we’re jacked. Oh, sure, sometimes you can get a idea, if a person is WILDLY active, like for a fucking living. Here’s Samoa Joe, the NXT pro wrestling champion who was literally dethroned last night: 

Yeah, you can see there’s a lot of power there. 

But a lot of times you can’t. Here’s Vince Wilfork, two-time Superbowl tackling champion:

And here’s Holley Mangold, 2012 superheavyweight division Olympian: 

These are people who fight (and flip, and do all kinds of crazy shit in Joe’s case), and run, and lift for a living. 

And they’re not unusual, as much as you’d like to think so. The world is full of fat powerhouses, of fat runners, of fat Crossfitters, and they’re just as good at doing the thing as their smaller counterparts. 

So realism? Fuck off. The only reason we don’t have fat game characters is because society is fatphobic as fuck. 

Also? Saints Row lets you be fat, *and hot,* so don’t even come at me with “nobody wants that.”