Streamofconsciousness Stories

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 Yuri Character analysis Maybe hoyo And mainly yuri Don't say I didn't warn you, you didn't read the description

poems and excerpts written during a fight against my mind in an unknown but exhaustive amount of time

On the life, fading, and resounding echo of someone you still dream as alive.

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]

My personal collection of thoughts/poems for midnights. I hope that my poems feel to you like confessions in enchanted spaces. Because that's what they are. This is the only way I knew how to make my pain beautiful. I never wanted to be haunted. I let the ghosts speak, so they can't linger.

Every now and then I get into a philosophical mood and start wondering about such things as our purpose here and what might be beyond death. This is the result of such wonderings. || Highest rankings: #3 Random thoughts, Regret; #2 Philosophy, Self help; #1 Human nature, Stream of consciousness

A poem about the messy, complicated emotions that come with love and desire. Exploring the shadows of the heart, and the fear and jealousy that can coexist with passion and longing.

not really sure how to describe this

Hi, So uhh.. I just wrote this. It's a little dark in my room and it popped into my head. Don't worry. I'm totally okay. This is not some kind of a call for help. Let's say it is.. A raw, stream-of-consciousness piece. Something to explore the quiet violence of depression. It doesn't ask for answers. Just to be heard. For the nights it aches and no one sees. This is not pretty. It's not poetic. It's just honest. Too honest. TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️ Themes of depression, self-harm and suicide. Graphic description. This might not be comfortable for you to read. If you have a problem with these kind of themes, Do Not read.

Look from no end. Begin to Evaporate, Grow and gain an Identity, become one, observe the nullity of being. All will lead you Nowhere- from an impending illness, to the neutrality of self and the grandiosity of the pale nightingale. There you will find Beginning. Freely give. Let me into your mind. Let me see. By: Mac-Donald C. Jospeh

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 enjoy writing poetry, these are just my thoughts poured out into poem form. Will update whenever inspiration strikes me. Enjoy!

"There is no one-not two, not three-To grab my ankles, stop the spree. I ran along derailing trains;I saw a man's invading pains. I stood where no one dared to pass-In that forgotten moldy class."

This collection will be an ongoing project sharing the thoughts of a bipolar mind, following confessional prose poetry, existential reflection, and reflective stream-of-consciousness. It's a safe space for me to share my deepest thoughts with the world and attempt to capture both the highs and lows that come with a mind in flux. All of these words are my own, reflecting what I may be thinking on any given day. Some of the content may be offensive, crude, or even disturbing; it represents the raw, unfiltered reality of my experience, which, like any bipolar mind, is often challenging to control. Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, and this collection is intended solely as a personal expression. It is not meant to serve as medical advice or a substitute for professional guidance. Please read with care and seek qualified help for any personal mental health concerns.

Donald Trump. Brexit. Extremism. Terrorists. For the last four or so years, the social, political and cultural landscape has been dominated by division, suspicion and mistrust. What happens when old hostilities resurface? What happens when two communities collide? What happens to innocent people caught in the crossfire?

The darkness you hold inside is the same darkness portrayed in your shadow. Your're nothing but a mirror image... a total reflection, of what you look down on. This shade can only be manipulated by those who hold light. But would they use it in a way to take advantage of you? Or free you? This poetry collection shows power and control within the relationship of light and dark. If you enjoyed this collection, please check out the others on my page!

Sorry for those super invested in my one shots 😭 I was more focused on this. This is more a story for me rather than the world. It started as a curious brain and then one day I wrote a stream of consciousness on it. This is not intended to be super long and none of these names are real btw Enjoy 😊

just thoughts.