It is a quandry is it not...to act in good faith, or not act at all. To lie despite your face, or tell the truth, and pay the consequences. Life is full of pitfalls, and as far as i understand, you often find truth, between the lies, not before or after they've been said.

It has become apparent, that i am only scratching the surface, of what my mental faculties are capable of. I've been taking some time to destress, and reconfigure, my neural processes, to be more efficient, and realised that i'm still underutilising most of my mind's, computational bandwidth.

The intrinsic value of the human mind, is not to be understated, in all it's flaws, trappings, as well as it's fundamental issues with processing large bodies of data. AI may be the future, but it's built with human hands, and without people we are just cogs in a larger machine.

A short poem about the fall of civilization, as hell on earth becomes a reality.

The feelings of dread that cloud my mind, are surely not my reality, though i am convinced what i see to be real, then the horrors in my mind must in turn shape my reality. I feel a deep longing, a swelling in my chest, as i clasp onto my heart, with a thought racing through my mind, as if it would tear me apart. These feelings of deep depression, are restraining my ability to think, as i write these words, i wonder if i am truly alone in this world, in this cryptic non sensical macabre we call life. Is this just some cruel game, for some cosmic superpower, or is it just a figment of my imagination. As i traverse deeper into my own imagination, i write about what i see here, and what i witness brings about such deep abhorrent feelings of depression, i can't possibly fathom the words to speak of this again, only to explain what i saw one last time, before i must once again retreat back into the darkness, within the vestibules of my mind.

This is a story about Neil, he is most definitely not insane, not at all, what were we talking about again?

This is the third in a series of short stories, that cover mental health disorders, dissociation from reality, as well as the eventual degradation of the mind, either through physical, or mental health problems, which eventually lead to death. This may be disturbing to some people so please be advised, this covers an introspection i had whilst i was away, which made me realise how short life really is, and caused me to re-evaluate my own sense of self, in order to come to a better understanding of how i function, in relation to other people. This was probably the shortest story I've ever written, as it only took me about ten minutes to write, as it was originally written on my phone, i will try to copy it as closely as possible, thank you for reading as always.

I've always been fascinated by dark fantasy stories, like that of Berserk, as well as Lovecraftian stories, of strange creatures from beyond our universe, and due to recent events, which have left me feeling extremely stressed, I decided to write something inspired by the horrors of the mind, when you feel like you're losing your sanity.

An unusual story written in the form of an abstract poem, similar to a lovecraftian story, with a man attempting to battle his inner demon, until he must make a choice. Does he end his own life, to stop the demon from manifesting again, or do he allow the evil to fester inside his heart, until it's too late to prevent his eventual demise, as the demon takes form completely.

I believe we are not alone in this universe, but in all logical senses, we are limited in our understanding, of what fundamentally could constitute a creator of sorts. This is just a different perspective, if we are to be perceived as simply an aspect of some cosmic god, would we be merely more than a thought, a mere breath in the lungs of the universe, we are just part of a larger being.