histórias de Streamofconciousness

What do you do when the world is quiet but your mind won't shut up? 3:04 A.M. is a haunting, intimate collection of fragmented thoughts, whispered confessions, and emotional snapshots scribbled in the dark. Equal parts journal, poetry, and stream-of-consciousness therapy, this book captures the sleepless moments where memories hit hardest, regrets echo loudest, and truths are too raw to say aloud. With the vulnerable honesty of a midnight voicemail and the strange comfort of a stranger's open diary, these unsent messages explore love, loss, nostalgia, and the beautiful chaos of being awake when everyone else is dreaming. This is not a book you read - it's one you feel. This is especially made for anyone who has ever stared at the ceiling and thought, "I shouldn't be feeling this much right now."

I rant to the void here in a more controlled space I talk anime Manga Comics Yuri Character analysis Takes that piss me off Shipping culture Maybe hoyo And mainly yuri Don't say I didn't warn you, you didn't read the description

this is something i didn't expect to find again. but now i did, i want to share it. this'll mark the beginning of some short stories and one-pagers

He stood at the grave, not knowing it was his own. On a gloomy Monday, a man finds himself at a funeral he doesn't remember attending - until the echoes of laughter, the scent of burnt pages, and a torn black jersey awaken memories he cannot escape. As reality and madness intertwine, the truth about the deceased - and himself - begins to unfold.

A day in the life of a night-junk-man, in a near future where technology is changing from what we have today, to what we imagine for tomorrow.

i weave my pain into poetry, inspired by a unique flavour of disaster called "you".

Your muscles have already become accustomed to this. ___________ Originally posted in AO3 >> https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueWasTaken <<

Just a collection of some short stories I'm working on. I'll publish as I finish. (Feel free to make suggestions or point out spelling errors!)

not really sure how to describe this

If you see this, I decided to publish these letters I kept hidden inside my head and my chest. For that to happen, I had to actually type them. And for that to happen, I had to feel the need to get everything out of my system and move on. Most of these letters aren't actually letters, but short notes and cheap poetry. If you're looking for something super complicated, elaborate, refined... Don't read this or you'll be disappointed.

Written for 1000-word Writing Battle comp (January 2026). Prompts were: Cryptid Fiction Vigilante Engagement Ring

Just little blurbs, stuff I'll probably never put in a real story. I'm probably going to put all my existential stuff here until I can find somewhere better for it.

Fra is shaped by self-awareness, trauma, contradicting thoughts and feelings, and by being a failed nihilist all at once. He sees the world with unforgiving clarity and retells his experiences with a disgustingly honest, almost too-confessional voice; shameful thoughts, taboo urges, the parts that make us "bad" friends, and the desires we can't shake off. Therapy was supposed to fix him, yet all it ever did was make him more painfully aware of everything wrong. He knew the causes, the patterns, the diagnoses-none of it helped. He walked into every session already knowing the answers and walked out with nothing to do with them. A mind that understands itself too well and still can't heal is its own kind of hell. Despite wanting to be numb, he isn't numb enough to stop caring-yet not hopeful enough to start living the way he, or society, insists he should. Knowing exactly what's wrong yet having no idea what to do with that knowledge is only one of the many tortures his emotional intelligence has handed him. [This story is a 1st person view based one, Fra and the author are not the same person characters Like Ivan or other ones may be based on real experiences but aren't real people and made up]

Even the brightest star cannot shine without the sky that loves it. He thought he could shine alone - until the sky that gave him light began to fade. A heartbreaking yet beautiful story of a son, a mother, and the painful truth that even the brightest stars need the sky to glimmer.

I have these conversations in my head. Kinda like speeches. Some are super short and some are super long. However I started typing them and now I want to share them. So here we go.

I said I wanted to feel everything...

Just a compilation of my thoughts through poetry. Hopefully a song to match every poem. And maybe get someone through the day. It's a little sloppy but it's me.

Poem

A collection of random mania inspired paragraphs from a book I used to carry around in my briefcase that was handcuffed to my left wrist during most of '05.