unaware bliss


Dylan’s journal

1: Fact: People are so unaware…. well, ignorance is bliss I guess…. that would explain my depression. - Dylan
A Virtual Book
By: Dylan
Properties: This book cannot be opened by anyone except Dylan (some supernatural force blocks common people from entering).
2: The 4 stages from within: most, few, some, none
Me is place outside all the boxes. 
3: El Thoughtzos
Ah yes, this is me writing … just writing, nobody technically did anything, just I felt like throwing out my thoughts - this is a weird time, weird life, weird existence. As I sit here (partially drunk with a screwdriver) I think a lot. Think … think … that’s all my life is, just shitloads of thinking … all the time … my mind never stops … music runs 24/7 (except for sleep), just songs I hear, not necessarily good or bad, & thinking … about the asshole - in gym class, how he worries me, about driving, & my family, about friends & doings with them, about girls I know (mainly - & -) how I know I can never have them, yet I can still dream … I do shit to supposedly ‘cleanse’ myself in a spiritual, moral sort of way (deleting the wads on my computer, not getting drunk for periods of time, trying not to ridicule/make fun of people (-) at school), yet it does nothing to help my life morally. My existence is shit to me - how I feel that I am in eternal suffering, in infinite directions in infinite realities. Yet these realities are fake - artificial, induced (?) by thought, how everything connects, yet it’s all so far apart … & I sit & think … science is the way to find solutions to everything, right? I still think that, yet I see different views of shit now - like the mind - yet if the mind is viewed scientifically … hmm
I dwell in the past … thinking of good & bad memories. 
4: A lot on the past though … I’ve always had a thing for the past - how it reacts to the present & the future - or rather vice versa. I wonder how/when I got so fucked up w my mind, existence, problem - when Dylan Bennet Klebold got covered up by this entity containing Dylan’s body … as I see the people at school - some good, some bad - I see how different I am (aren’t we all you’ll say) yet I’m on such a greater scale of difference than everyone else (as far as I know, or guess). I see jocks having fun, friends, women, LIVEZ. 
Or rather shallow existences compared to mine (maybe) like ignorance = bliss. They don’t know beyond this world (how I do in my mind or in reality or in this existence) yet we each are lacking something that the other possesses - I lack the true human nature that Dylan owned & they lack the overdeveloped mind/imagination/knowledge tool. I don’t fit in here thinking of suicide gives me hope, that I’ll be in my place wherever I go after this life … that I’ll finally not be at war with myself, the world, the universe - my mind, body, everywhere, everything at PEACE in me - my soul (existence). & the routine is still monotonous, go to school, be scared & nervous, hoping that people can accept me … that I can accept them … the NIN (Nine Inch Nails) song Piggy is good for thought writing … The Lost Highway sounds like a movie about me … I’m gonna write later, bye   <<-VoDkA->>
5: Da ThoughtZ Jeah
Well well, back at it, yes (you say) whoever the fuck ‘you’ is, but yea. My life is still fucked, in case you care … maybe, … (not?) I have just lost fuckin 45$, & before that I lost my zippo & knife (I did get those back) Why the fuck is he being such an ASSHOLE??? (god I guess, whoever is the being which controls shit). He’s fucking me over big time & it pisses me off. Oooh god I HATE my life, I want to die really bad right now - let’s see what I have that’s good: A nice family, a good house, food, a couple of good friends, & possessions. What’s bad - no girls (friends or girlfriends), no other friends except a few, nobody accepting me even though I want to be accepted, me doing badly & being intimidated in any & all sports, me looking weird & acting shy - BIG problem, me getting bad grades, having no ambition of life, that’s the big shit. Anyway … I was Mr. Cutter tonight - I have 11 depressioners on my right hand now, & my favorite contrasting symbol, because it is so true & means so much. The battle between good & bad never ends … OK enough bitchin … well I’m not done yet. OK go … I don’t know  why I do wrong with people (mainly women) - it’s like they are set out to hate & ignore me, I never know what to say or do. - is soo fuckin lucky he has no idea how I suffer. 
6: Okay here’s some poetry … this is a display of one man in search of answers, never finding them, yet in hopelessness understands things …
Existence … what a strange word. He set out by determination & curiosity, knows no existence, knows nothing relevant to himself. The pretty declarations of others & everything on this world, in this world, he knows the answers to. Yet they have no purpose to him. He seeks knowledge of the unthinkable, of the undefinable, of the unknown. He explores the everything … using his mind, the most powerful tool known to him. Not a physical barrier blocking the limits of exploration, time thru thought thru dimensions … the everything is his realm. Yet, the more he thinks, hoping to find answers to his questions, the more come up. Amazingly, the petty things mean much to him at this time, how he wants to be normal, not this transceiver of the everything. Then occurring to him, the answer. How everything is connected yet separate. By experiencing the petty others actions, reactions, emotions, doings and thoughts, he gets a mental picture of what, in his mind, is a cycle. Existence is a great hall, life is one of the rooms, death is passing thru the doors, & the ever existent compulsion of everything is the curiosity to keep moving down the hall, thru the doors, exploring rooms, down this never-ending hall. Questions make answers, answers conceive questions, and at long last he is content. TTYL  <<-VoDkA->>
7: Thoughtz                                                                                                          Yo … whassup … heheheheh … know what’s weird? Everyone knows everyone. I swear - like I’m an outcast, & everyone is conspiring against me … Check it … (this isn’t good, but I need to write, so here ….                                             Within the known limits of time … within the conceived boundaries of space … the average human thinks those are the settings of existence … yet the ponderer, the outcast, the believer, helps out the human. “Think not of 2 dimensions”, says the ponderer, “but of 3, as your world is conceived of 3 dimensions, so is mine. While you explore the immediate physical boundaries of your body, you see in your 3 dimensions - L, W, & H, yet I, who is more mentally open to anything, see my 3 dimensions. My realm of thought - Time, Space, & THOUGHT. Thought is the most powerful thing that exists - anything conceivable can be produced, anything & everything is possible, even in your physical world.” After this so called “lecture” the common man feels confused, empty, & unaware. Yet those are the best emotions of a ponderer. The real difference is, a true ponderer will explore these emotions & what caused them. Another … a dream.                                                                                         Miles & miles of never ending grass, like a wheat. A farm, sunshine, a happy feeling in the presence, Absolutely nothing wrong, nothing ever is, contrary 180 (degrees) to normal life. No awareness, just pure bliss, unexplainable bliss, The only challenges are no challenge, & then … BAM!!! realization sets in, the world is the greatest punishment. Life.                                                            8: Hypnosis place - It is a sky - with one large cloud, & sort of cloud-made chair - the sun is at the head of the chair … 10 o’clock up into the sky … Below, I sometimes see mist, & the green (forest green) earth - sorta a city, yet I hear nothing. I relax on this chair - actually like a chaise - & I am talking … to what? I don’t know - it’s just there, I have the feeling that I know him, even though I consciously don’t … & we talk like we are the same person - like he’s my soul … The everlasting contrast …                                                                              Dark. Light. God. Lucifer. Heaven. Hell. GOOD. BAD. Yes, the everlasting-contrast. Since existence has known the ‘fight’ between good & evil has continued. Obviously, this fight can never end. Good things turn bad, bad things become good, the ‘people’ on the earth see it as a battle they can win. HA fuckin morons. If people looked at History, they would see what happens. I think, too much, I understand, I am GOD compared to some of those un-existable brainless zombies. Yet, the actions of them interest me, like a kid with a new toy. Another contrast, more of a paradox, actually, like the advanced go for the undevelopeds realm, while some of the morons become everything dwellers - but exceptions to every rule, & this is a BIG exception - most morons never change, they never decide to live in the ‘everything’ frame of mind!              Laterz           <<-VoDkA->>                                                                                   9: <<-VoDkA->>’s Thoughts                                                                                   The - Situation                                                                                                             It is not good for me right now (like it ever is) … but anyway … My best friend ever: the friend who shared, experimented, laughed, took chances with & appreciated me more than any friend ever did has been ordained … “passed on” … in my book. Ever since - (who I wouldn’t mind killing) has loved him … that’s the only place he’s been with her … if anyone had any idea how sad I am … I mean we were the TEAM. When him & I first were friends, well I finally found someone who was like me: who appreciated me & shared very common interests. Ever since 7th grade, I’ve felt lonely … when - came around, I finally felt happiness (sometimes) we did cigars, drinking, sabotage to houses, EVERYTHING for the first time together & now that he’s “moved on” I feel so lonely, without a friend. Oh well, maybe he’ll come around -> … I hope.               That’s all - for this topic - maybe I’ll never see this again. (-> ô=-   -=ô)                 <<-VoDkA->>                                                                                                                10: My 1st Love????                                                                                               OH my God … I am almost sure I am in love … with -. Hehehe … such a strange name, like mine … yet everything about her I love. From her good body to her almost perfect face, her charm, her wit & cunning, her NOT being popular. Her friends (who I know) - some - I just hope she likes me as much as I LOVE her. I think of her every second of every day. I want to be with her. I imagine me & her doing things together, the sound of her laugh, I picture her face, I love her. If - soulmates exist, then I think I’ve found mine. I hope she likes Techno … :-)             -, I love you                                                                                                             - Dylan


(gif not mine) The 3 separate quotes below are from his diary/journal:

“The framework of society stands above & below me. The hardest thing to destroy, yet the weakest thing that exists. I know that i am different, yet i am afraid to tell the society. The possible abandonment, persecution is not something I want to face, yet it is so primitive to me. I guess being yourself means letting people know about inner thoughts too, not just opinions & fashions. (Heheh) I will be free one day, in the land of purity & my happiness, I will have a love, someone who is me in a way. Someday… Possibly thru this life, maybe another, but it will happen…”

“Existence is pure hell & pure heaven at the same time. I will never stop wondering. The lost highway will never end.”

“Fact: People are so unaware. … well, Ignorance is bliss I guess…. that would explain my depression.”
- Dylan Klebold

“Dylan was sitting in his room. He was alone. It was Monday.
A peaceful Monday evening.
He stretched for an empty notebook from the shelves. Sitting himself in front of the large desk, he took a yellow-covered pen from a circular penholder. He had so much pain and emotion inside him that he just needed to get it out on paper.
Even though Dylan had snapped the desk lamp on, it was dim and some areas of the table were covered in darkness, a depressing darkness. The angular desk lamp mainly let off light on the spread of Dylan’s virginal notebook. However, it didn’t shed light on his face. Dylan’s face was dark, like his soul, unknown and shadowed.
The pen was moving and chafing against the cover of the notebook.
Dylan was writing.
“Fact: People are so unaware. Well, Ignorance is bliss, I guess. That would explain my depression.”
Dylan saw here, there and everywhere people who were naïve. They weren’t real. They weren’t thinking. They didn’t understand the problems in the world. Sometimes Dylan felt he was the only one who understood the reality. Others were partying, happily ignorantly, but Dylan couldn’t because he was thinking too much.  […] Philosopher Francis Bacon once said that “Knowledge is power”, but for Dylan that power had turned into pain. He turned the first page and marked the date: March 31, 1997.
“This is a weird time, weird life, weird existence,” Dylan began.
The problems he saw weren’t just social or worldly. He also saw his own weaknesses and felt he himself had failed as a human, and hadn’t been able to meet other people’s expectations. It felt like no one needed him and he was doomed to be depressed for that.
He had done all kinds of things to cleanse himself spiritually. Trying to be more extroverted. Trying to get drunk more often. Trying different kinds of personalities. But nothing helped. It was like he had this eternal stamp on himself; no matter what he did, what he said, or what he was like, the result was always the same. […]
The past haunted Dylan’s mind. Did he make some mistakes that led to this sorry state of his today? Were there some things he could have done differently?”
- excerpt from “A lasting impression. The impact of Columbine” (2007)  by Sasha Huttunen. pp.52-53


Tentoo x Rose, all ages, fluff and fights and fluff; shortly after metacrisising, Tentoo has a little trouble adjusting to his new body and Rose is basically a saint. Written for the @timepetalsprompts drabble prompt “birth.” (At 1.6k words, it’s an uber-drabble! Drabble x 16. Whoops!)

also dedicated to @lunaseemoony because I was afraid no one would be interested in a response to this prompt that wasn’t babyfic until I read one of her posts. so thank you for the confidence-booster!


It’s funny, but for all the things the Doctor can remember, he doesn’t remember being born. (Born, made, loomed—it all comes out the same in the wash.) But he imagines it wasn’t much different from this: sleeping blissful and unaware in a safe fluid-cocoon, immune to the dangers and the hurts of the world, then BAM! Cocoon bursts and gives way to bright lights, loud sounds, sensory overload, and a sensation like everything is burning around him.

Of course, that last bit could be because the TARDIS is on fire. Maybe not exactly like birth, then.

But after the TARDIS is saved, the Daleks destroyed, the day won and the holes between the universes sealed once again, the adrenaline subsides and reality starts bleeding back in. He becomes less occupied with what it’s like to be new again, and more distracted by what it’s like to be different. No more time sense, for one thing. The song of the universe has subsided and left a whole lot of nothing in its place. For another thing, his stamina is shot. He can’t run for hours on end anymore. This body seems determined to thwart him at every turn, constantly reminding him that he needs to breathe, he needs to sleep, he needs to eat, he needs to piss, he needs to do something about that coy smile Rose shoots him every day. His vision is duller, his sense of smell flatter. He can’t rattle off every single component of something just from one lick, anymore. (And Rose is sure to remind him of his new, rubbishy human immune system anytime he tries. That’s another new thing: having to worry about colds. Since when does he have to worry about getting a cold?) It’s sort of like he went from making films in color, with glorious surround-sound that booms until your teeth chatter, to producing flicks in black-and-white, with sound that is patchy and full of pops and snarls.

(He doesn’t like to think about how the black-and-white films were almost always significantly shorter, too.)

Keep reading

Learn to be Lonely

Fetches of sunbeams fell through the tall branches onto the leaf-strown wood below. Wind whispered through the fox’s den nearby, stirring the ginger fur within. Neither beast nor bird made a sound as the clock wound down and the beginnings of the day’s end became apparent with the shadows that stretched out their yawning patterns. So welcoming to the peace of approaching twilight they seemed. Nature, in her blissfulness, was unaware of the calamities that kept a human heart at unrest. Ever alert, ever jerking its’ weary head at the ghosts of the past, present and future. The mind, it’s loyal servant, too, comes with its’ ticking metronome. These two organs together could never be without the other. When one was in distress, the other must follow. It was the way of the human symmetry.

Keep reading