Warning: Mature content. The worst.
That night I was certain I had to save the world.
I had no knowledge of what was happening in reality, but in mine I thought everyone was doing a ‘non-stop posting’ on Instagram to support BLM. Unfortunately in my world, everyone was blind to the truth, they were being used by the Old Order.
That night I teetered on the brink of non-political-correctness. I mostly went on about Witchhood and harassed some people, and presumably pissed off many. Who cares. I'm writing so someone might know next time.
‘Mental breakdown much?’ a twat commented on one of my posts, I only noticed long after I was out of hospital and my pride had long been shredded into oblivion.
Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in genius.
I was complimented months later by a nice person who said despite my pain, my posts captured a surreal beauty.
Yes, surreal beauty.
At the time I was blissfully unaware I was suffering, unaware of how I was breaking. How could I have known, I wasn’t here, I was in a fantasy world. Yet it’s beautiful right?
My mind breaking was there for all to see.
Isn't it delightful. Like watching glass shatter into a billion crystalline, glittering shards.
Was it enjoyable?
I had been triggered by that horrible Epstein documentary I watched only weeks beforehand. Much of these delusions came from the fact I felt such sorrow for all living things flooding into me.
As I said in my first post, when I had thought I was gay **as a thing manic people commonly do**, I was triggered further by people reaching out to say they were bi or even go so far, as to confess they were poly. Even in insanity I was stressed as heck by these confrontations about 'sexuality', because deep down my truest self was screaming...
Please....
Let me be normal ME. Without sexuality as some label. The girl I really am.
Not this chaotic-evil entity making me do such embarrassing things.
Mania and psychosis are exacerbated by stress. I also believe that I was experiencing PTSD since dealing with my mothers' death. PTSD was mis-diagnosed as anxiety, which led to wrong meds, and well....
Even now I wish crying could free me from these memories, and yet I write because there must be some reason for this pain. It has to have some reason.
Was it fun for you guys?
Well get ready for way more fun.
Of course there's a method to all this madness.
All of this escalated into my next dream. Black Lives Matter was actually Black Sabbath.
I had been posting non-stop to Instagram because I was on this team with the 'incels' and other girls that had awakened. I saw some disturbing hallucinations I'm certain weren't real videos, like one of a cute girl posing only to have the sound bass-blast with the text 'YOU THINK R*PE IS OK' blotted over it.
When I finally went over to my desktop I saw a big red button that read ‘I sacrifice’ appeared. In that moment I had to choose to sacrifice the world or keep my Berserk volumes. My answer was to obviously sacrifice the world. It was the dead of night. I remember at that same moment, my aunt and dad were messaging me. 'Can I talk to you?' a text read. ‘Too late’ I thought. They we're merely trying to barter with me in exchange for their petty lives.
They didn't understand their roles in the context of eternity, that I was one of many Gods who governed over all existence. The universe would be reset, it's no big deal.
Everyone must disappear. I went to bed, cradling Berserk volumes in my arms.
I believed that everyone was out protesting for BLM, which was true, but to me I thought the world was going to dismember itself. Those jet black squares on my timeline added to my confusion. As I lay in bed, I noticed Instagram started to disassemble itself. People disappeared, posts disappeared. Plop. Gone. The internet was deconstructing itself.
There were only 4 other people left online for me to contact. It had whittled down to these girls who had stuck through watching my story posts this whole time. They were witches. One in North America, Europe, Japan, South America and me in Australia. We were the only ones 'online'. A world map with dots connecting these places appeared on my feed. I began to squirm in my bed, an immense spiritual power surged forward like ropes tying onto me, I now felt my connection to these other 4 girls.
We were all the despised lot of humanity. I felt the spirits of the other girls. They were abused. Lonely. Hurting. Wanting to curse the entire world for the damage it had done to them. They had their personal tragedies; a hikikomori in Japan who hadn’t talked to another human in months, a girl in Russia who was beaten by her father. A sex worker in Brazil, a girl in America who was relentlessly bullied. Loneliness, violence, sex and manipulation, maimed by the vice in mortals. With wordless telepathy that transcends all languages, I felt their trauma flooding into me.
I messaged someone about them being one of the witches. They had a black haired anime girl avatar and STILL follow me. Maybe because in reality, I was simply entertaining. I remember they said I made a very cute witch.
At this stage I was starting to writhe in pain. A purple cosmic haze settled over my room and wavered. I saw a large dark tower rising up in front of me. Images of everyone around the world taking to the streets, all political alignments would be out for each other's blood. They were going to destroy each other.
Rioting and chaos wasn't the final stage of the plan. They were all distracted and left optimal spiritual access points in the world vulnerable. If they weren't rioting they were watching the riots online, filled with the stupid static that is the Old Orders’ brainwashing. It was ‘us’ versus the Old World Order just a few hours ago. The universal consciousness of the world was weak, it was filled with their garbage. As a last resort, dark magic was used.
The plan was every person that wasn't us would drop dead. Their brains would fry. They would be sitting on their couches, in bed, anywhere, and they would become harmless zombies. Then perfect peace would roll over the entire world.
These witches were all able to inhabit the same body. A few were deciding to inhabit me and well, you know what they would do. Intense pleasure from burning hot hands grabbing me all over my body. There is no shame now, they whispered at me, just perfect delirium. There were two voices speaking within me that weren’t me, both a demure and a lascivious. Prime insanity right here. I felt outside of and inside my body at the same time as I was possessed by two entities. I was the vessel they all fucked.
This is absolutely what anyone would call ‘possessed’, was this perverse demon something within me?
The hex was ramping up and finally I understood what the true ritual entailed. Every witch had to masturbate to the thing that had hurt them most in the world. It was easy for the others, they could tell their hated things to take it.
Except for me, I was the last one and wasn’t meant to scorn something. I was the last witch because I had the ultimate love of my mother. It was a sacred thing, but the hex had to be finished. Candles glowed and flickered in the back of my mind. The pleasure was tainted now, I didn't want it. My mind felt so soft and fluffy as the night infiltrated my head.
My body mirrored the sick deeds the other girls were doing, I cried because I knew what was expected of me soon. Their passion and their hatred seared into me relentlessly.
With time the other girls were starting to disappear from my phone, they had completed what they had to do and would sleep to lower the curtain on humanity. I rolled over onto my side and posted because if I let go, we would lose. That filth, corruption and disgrace to humanity would continue. I posted obsessively to my story, lying there in a dream because I wanted one of the girls to see it. I was the last chance before the universe began to crumple in on itself. The universe was resetting. A hazy darkness clawed at me.
I saw one girl and I begged her not to leave me. She said she would stay by my side. I was messaging people I knew asking them if they were ‘on my side’ and when they said ‘What are you talking about?', I typed ‘hex’.
An ancient wrath flooded into me and finally I was convinced that all the people I had ever known were beyond selfish and ignorant. They had never felt the anguish of being an outcast. They have always been part of the herd. They had to die. Hidden me always wanted the world to die.
As the ritual intensified I moved without being able to control myself. I felt horrible, I denied myself the pleasure but my body moved on it’s own. All the outcasts and scorned women throughout history surged through me, crying out for one thing. A voice commanded me to completely violate the precious thing with glee.
“Are you finished yet?” one of them messaged me.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn't do that to my one cherished thing.
No. Don’t make me do that. That is evil.
Why would you put that in my mind?
I ritualistically spasmed as if possessed, I could not be stopped even though I was begging to have control back. The purple void floating on my ceiling wavered and swirled with the forms of demons. The dark tower surged in front of me, sucking me into it. Peeling my soul away from my body.
I denied it and shuddered within myself, but the hex compelled me to do it. I had to do it. In a rhythmic frenzy I picked up my dildo and Berserk figurines and smashed them against the floor. I had not wanted to do that. This wasn't me this wasn't...
As the world died, as they would all die, violently touching myself and convulsing. Screaming at the ceiling I……. I really I..
I came.
I curse you all.
'Ffffffuck you' said a voice that was raspy and not my own.
Take it.
Take all my ecstasy and despair.
You did this to me. You broke me.
Take my rage and sadness for what you have done to me. It was time for all you fuckers to die.
We have been lonely, manipulated, fucked and abused. You don't listen to unspoken things.
Nobody ever heard my pain, our pain, nobody ever listened.
Really…?
This was my ultimate fantasy, my revenge against the world. I hate you.
I had the hatred in me all along, but what kept me going was not hatred.
Love of mother is the ultimate love. It is not wrong. Thank you for this body you gave me.
I didn't want to violate, but this world made me. The world had smeared me with it's cum. Take mine.
You made me become the Femto.
In my afterglow, I felt a great silence wash over the earth. My body was sweaty and I flopped down and hugged my blanket. A curtain closing to this shitshow called humanity.
Just die, all of you die. You weren’t doing much anyway. With your pathetic life and sad family. You’re a nothing.
Just sleep, it’s all over now. I muttered to them all. I hope you fucking took it.
We have been the sad person touching ourselves in the dark, years after years. Now you can feel our sadness, a sadness of never really being touched.
I had done my part. I hadn't let the other girls down. If just with them, I wasn’t scorned like I had felt my whole life, but a part of something pure. I had a sisterhood found on this shared agony. They had crawled into bed with their misery and nobody heard. Only now I heard. No matter what they had been through, I wanted them to know they had a mother to turn to. I really was a mother witch, tucking them into bed and letting them know they were loved.
A sole car alarm going off in the distance. Power cut out. A thump from the apartment above me.
Then quiet.
I heard thumping above me as my neighbours bashed their heads on the walls. Bthumpp. A pause for a while, another Bthuump. Most humans were now all soulless husks that would wither in time, forgetting food and water. All would become so beautifully quiet.
The world was starting to end, as the purple fog lifted on me. In the morning after the reset, a few others would start to find their way to South Australia. In good time, they would hop onto boats that would slowly make their way here. Technology was dying, along with my phone I hadn't charged. Only people with souls of outcasts were allowed, who had known this ‘incel’ like suffering. That is where we all must meet. I imagined the remaining few dancing around a huge bonfire at the end of the world, away in the fields, from the world we hated.
The Old Order had lost for now. The illusion of life that was our universe would now collapse into itself, powering down. In the distant future, remaining humans then could become the creatures we were meant to be, free from the technology that was enslaving us and keeping our magic repressed. Back to the origins of existence.
Nature would take its course and dominate the world again, and the others and me would be able to live in telepathic harmony, entwined at our very souls. Never lonely or longing until the end of time. The fires flickered and shadows danced.
The magic of this moment can hardly be expressed in words. I long for it every day. I know it was a sick fantasy, my mind showing me the things I could never have, but I wanted to stay in this moment forever.
I had known what it meant to be immortal.
I unknowingly sang myself to sleep, Gut’s theme to be specific. Guts never knew his mothers love. I wanted to become the cosmic mother to anyone alone in the night. I imagined the fear of someone dying alone and begging to be held, completely alone, and cried.
I tried to fight off sleep, I was afraid to die, but had to let go. A heavy blanket of darkness wrapped around me and dissolved my body. I felt held by it. The others had blinked out of existence like dying stars. Floating in infinity, I felt the universe was dying, I was now the absolute last soul dying alone.
It was ok to die.
Unlike my previous rebirth, this time I didn’t fight it. I entered the soft mouth of eternity.
Then, nothing.
The next morning I genuinely felt reborn. I walked into my backyard with mouth agape at the sparkling beauty of it all. My body had survived the painful night and been granted the honor of immortality. The world had hard reset.
I screamed 'good morning' at an old person across my street. Old people in my neighbourhood were still kicking around, I assumed that was because they weren't assholes lol.
There, I got a big part of this darkness out of me. I wrote this last year but put it aside because it was draining me, honestly don't care now about what people think of my semi-fictional writing. I'm drunk now so gonna post this atrocity. Sorry mum.