It has been quite some time since I was both active on the forums or in my blog (not that its much of one) but giving the new year is around the corner and the sad news of a sub-forum closing to read only I thought it was time to make a new start on here and in the real world. Despite the news about the forum I will still be using this blog as an outlet so please read with caution.

The reason for my long inactivity was as my granddad was having a lengthy battle with kidney cancer which took his life not long ago, it was a very rapid downfall and hit everyone very hard and he sadly passed away just under 2 weeks ago and was buried 2 days ago so as you can imagine things are still raw not just with myself but family to.
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As for myself things have been going up and down throughout the year and it has been rather hard to find some level ground amongst it all and much as before my mind is still my worst enemy constantly flooding my head and not being able to stop it. Silence is bad enough but uncontrolled thoughts are the absolute worst.

Despite all that I do actually feel like I am in a much stronger position to keep myself out of the majority of harm and speaking from where I was to how I feel now this is one of many bricks in my foundation to staying strong. I still have things that need to be worked our and sorted through but its at least one hell of start and its something I can for once say I'm proud of.

I still do view loli/toddlercon from time to time along with /r34/ to take the sting off so things are perhaps not as strong and I'm not as clean as I should be but all said and done its a step in the right direction. I know looking that stuff it is doing just as much harm as it is good but for now I'd rather use it as a safety net than have nothing but a dark abyss again. I crawled out from there before and I intend on staying out of it.

Even though there are very select few in my life that 'know' and I put it like that as at times I feel they don't quite fully understand to extent of things which I suppose is not their fault although one person does not understand how hard it is to talk to them about things, what I think, feel or thoughts I have. I know they wont want to hear it who does and I just cannot get past that.

My pedophilia is one on a list of things which plagues me and to be honest while I feel safer and stronger, actual support is not a lot, aside from things I have put in place like not watching television, movies and even limiting the music I listen to. Keeping myself busy with new projects, learning new languages and gaming there is not much else. It may be slow going but its all a start right.

I expect things to be pushed and pulled but hopefully by then I can take it.

Tulula ~

Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

I am a 19 year old girl and I have this male character about my age in my head, he has a name and characteristics and personality and everything already thought out for him. He's not alone, he has a bunch of friends...also in my head. I switch mainly between him and me, his friends are all just there for some reason.

When I was in middle school I was bullied and alone so I started "creating friends" to entertain me during lunches...now, everytime I find myself feeling lonely, they're automatically there. Sometimes they're there when I'm hanging out with other (real) people but that doesn't happen too often.

I started out thinking I have DID but now I'm confused, I can tell him to leave and he will but then he comes back again. It's mostly him talking to me and giving me advice and helping me but sometimes I actually become him and I end up just sitting on my sofa, staring at the wall, or walking around my room living in this imaginary world in my head. Sometimes I end up making faces or using body language without realizing that I am. Sometimes when something happens to me (when I am him) that saddens "him", I physically cry. Or I can feel pain (I don't know how to explain that).

I often find myself isolating myself from friends and family just to be him in that world.

I'm just wondering if anyone else experiences this? What is this? I can't seem to put a word on it. Also, I have no idea why I'm suddenly identifying with a male...

I haven't seen any posts similar to this so if someone experiences this I would be really glad if they could share cause I am so confused all the time.



- Penny

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.

My mom wants me to get rid of my scars...But i find i really don't want too. I don't not want to wake up and not see them there on my left shoulder, on my left wrist and my right hip bone. Sick? Very, i know. My own mom looked at me like i was crazy when i told her, which i probably am. No healthy person cuts themselves, that's obvious. Or at least in my case, used too.

I stopped cutting maybe a couple of months before high school graduation but it wasn't due to my mother finding me out. Instead my boyfriend did and made me promise to never do it again, cutting my mother to the punch line. My mom found out a month after him, i believe. She didn't believe me when i told her i stopped, so i gave her the scissors i used to hurt myself. That was my second step to stopping i guess. My third had to be when she got me medicine to take away the scars...but now on the fourth step, actually putting the stuff on, i'm stuck.

I've put it on once or twice but not religiously. I hate the idea of them not being there. They give me comfort and make me feel better. Am i wrong in wanting them there?