They call me Loyalty

Not being a cripple? Or at least having the support of a functional family to work in something together. Because we don't make a normal person between the three of us. But my family is made of two other specials cases. Trisomy x; my mother. And klinelfter syndrome; her brother - my uncle. And they don't feel guilt about having lived for free their entire lives. So, I have to eat the guilt of their retardation, that makes them impervious to both shame and guilt. Even when I told them that we would be homeless, mental patients, dead or worse without the work and sacrifice of our family. So, they are trash people, basically. And so am I. Problem is. I always recognized that I was a hobo at heart. I always wanted to sit down outside some church with a bottle of alcohol. But my family didn't want to listen when I told them this problem was losing me the race. And my grandfather wanted me to be better. Basically to not be myself. So, I dissociated instead, and I learned to lie to myself and to others, subconsciously. Because my mother is the kind of person that is so out there, that she doesn't even know she is been lying to herself her whole life. And she kinda infantilized me, because she is still like an infant, creepely enough. But whenever I tried to get us to work together. It failed, of course. So, I am done. I took them to the charity dinner so we could congratiate ourselves with society. While also giving them a message about who we really are. And who I really am. Especially to my mother. But my uncle froze, fell, broke a finger and cut his face like a mental patient, and then my mother blamed me for everything, after sitting there crossing her arms with a gesture of indignation the whole time. So, let's hope the charity of society lasts longer. Or that the streets are kind to us. I'm adopting my true self. Becoming what I was always meant to be. A vagabond. And letting them waddle towards nowhere with their blessed ignorance. Because I always knew I was a vagrant, but the pernicious idea that they implanted in me since childhood caused so much damage. It really did. An idea born out of pride, because my grandparents were unwilling to recognize that life had granted them two retarded children. Also, the first character I ever wrote when I was five years old was a vagrant. Or every single drawing I made of myself since then, in which I depicted a prostrated and squalid man wearing nothing but rags, sitting there like his soul had abandoned him long ago. That is little ol' me. But I was too slow to recognize the true nature of this world. Look, I have no problems becoming a magical hobo. That is who I always was. Also, I always knew you were watching me, and these two other ducklings, ever since I was six years old. But I hope you learned something from the symptoms of jacob's syndrome and the damage of inbreeding depression in general. Because it is very a debilitating condition. Like you are *****, basically. But yeah. Murderhobo it is for me. And it feels appropiate, for once. It is like finding myself again, and we are dancing, and shanking each other all of the sudden. So, keep the situation in lockdown, or let it fall apart. It is alright. It is all good in the hood. Since I shouldn't be alive to begin with, with this condition. Much less in a family made of two other people with similar problems. Because even my grandparents, who were healthy and strong individuals, were passively consumed by these two. It is terrifying. She is like a little girl that sits there, crying, and eventually kills you. And then moves to the next victim, with this cute demeanor that makes you want to protect her instinctively. That is why I am eating this heart attack for her, when the animal inside of me wants to rip her apart, because it knows she is killing me. Because my mother IS like a little girl. And she is going to kill me, unkowingly. She is the perfect predator in this animal world, hahaha! Like a zombifying fungus. And she has grown on me. But it is a little too late. And I am starting to slur my writing. And we wouldn't want to upset the moderators with improper wording. Now, would be? So, off to sleep it is.

A bottle of booze. Then, I'm gonna go lie down under my blankets and adopt a plant-like demeanor for the rest of the day. Have a good one.

Probably, one of the weirdest dreams I ever had. I was playing this video game from another dream I had three years ago. It is like a combination between the classic doom games and diablo 2. With tons of items, customization, classes and different environments, dungeons, towns, and this massive, multi-leveled tower that you can revisit during the game to unlock various items that help you progress with the rest of the game. But it is mostly optional. And the last time there was this gigantic humanoid skull boss like a spider tank with cannons growing out of each of its multiple eye sockets. It was interesting the design, because it reminded me of this drawing I made long time ago, but much better. And this boss was locked behind a very complicated puzzle that was like a labyrinth of water canals and moving parts, that actually had a logical solution. And I had solved it, but never got to face the actual boss, because I was afraid of it, until now. So, I am about to fight it this time around. But a couple of old women pull me away from the pc, and I realize that I am actually inside the living room of this very classy house. And then they show me this elaborate letter with flowing hand-writting that I didn't get to read, and tell me that I need to sign it. But they go upstairs with it before I get the chance, so I followed them into this room and they throw the letter in the middle of a king size bed. So, I get into the bed, and notice that one of them suddenly starts to undress. While the other one grabs me. And I pull back, because the old woman was hurting my arm. And I manage to get away, but they start yelling and spraying me with perfume now. And one of them then begins to run downstairs again, and I follow after to escape the house. But the second sister, just behind me. Pushes me into the living room. Where there is the husband of one of them, I guess. And the old man looks at me enraged. And I try to explain myself. Because they were telling him that I had attacked them. But then there is this pause. And all of the sudden they all start to laugh at me like it was a prank. But their teeth look horse-like. And their laughters become a neigh, too. And when I try to talk again, I can only make donkey sounds. So, I back away from them and get out, while they are still looking at me with this satisfied smirks on their faces. Then I close the door behind me, and walk across the sidewalk, where I can see one of the sisters messing with my save game through the windows. Acting like brats, instead of older people. And that was it, I never got to defeat the boss. Still, a very different dream to what I am used to. Because generally speaking, the characters in my dreams are like archetypes within a story that serves a narrative purpose. While these people felt like animals instead. Wild and unpredictable, but cunning still. And with a sense of humor on top of all. Also, I lost the chance to play the game. But there are more dreams to be had. Not this time, though.

My mother is a troubled person with some problems that her parents never explained to her. And I did mention this to my grandfather multiple times since childhood. But he couldn't take it to have had two "special" children in a row, so he doubled down with me, and failed again. Since I am special, too. But he never wanted to listen whenever I brought it up. Still, it angers me to realize her dullness when it comes to notice the same problem. But that was the fault of her parents for not helping them understand the nature of this medical condition, and filling their heads with bs about succesfull futures, and how they were "better". Which is the reason my mother has this superiority complex, that is just there to hide a delayed mind. And sometimes it makes me paranoid that she is hidding something from me, but she really is that special, unfortunately. I mean, I was six years old when I first noticed my symptoms. But she is almost sixty and still unable to see it... She is going to kill me like she killed her mother and her father. She is dragging me down, and has been doing so since the beggining. Even when she doesn't notice it. Also, she switches to victim blaming very easily. That is what happened when my grandfather was becoming delirious. She went crazy and started attacking him, the same way she attacked her terminal mother. Which was the reason I started to believe they had done something to her. Anyways, it is impossible not to love that sweet little girl in the end.

"Where is nostradamus when you need him?" There is also a version with an exclamation sign, depending on the gravity of the situation.

Half a lemon with salt and a little bit of vodka.

I didn't do well at sports due to anger management issues. Also, my body is frail and weak due to a type of mosacism. But other than that. I do exercise at home. Push ups, chunches, dumbbells, squats, etc. Since it helps a ton with the pain when it starts to build up, being that I have issues to properly express hostility. And this is because of the gonadal dysgenesis and hormonal deficit common with 47 types like myself or my mother. Which is part of the reason behind these sudden changes in personality, and some of the mental instability issues as well. It is a problem of impact. But now I've been doing some workout, and I feel a lot better, and much more relaxed. Because you have to feel the pain in order to release the pain.

That is truly amazing to hear, that you are following your passions in life. You are very welcomed.

I don't believe you. But okay. Welcome!

Nothing. I am safe at home. My family is doing relatively good, all things considered. It is the best outcome I could ever hope for. And I've been struggling with myself during the night, because they kinda live in their own world. And it is mentally taxing having to deal with a child that never grows up, especially when that child happens to be your parent, and you are dealing with developmental problems of your own already. But a little honest suffering on my part, and the pain goes through me like I am made of water. And strangely enough, I feel like a child again, whereas I was feeling like I was older than time a couple of moments ago. So, I would rather go to sleep right now. And that is what I am going to do. Because the climate is cold and perfect to lie down next to that special person you love the most, and just cuddle under the blankets. And considering that person is myself. Well, I don't want to get too specific here.

I don't have much to share in this regard. But I just listened to some of the songs that you have posted, like loose dragon, and the lyrcs are very relatable. Thank you very much for sharing them here, so people can discover them.

I think it is a medium for many talented artists to colaborate and realize projects that may be beyond their financial scope on an individual basis. And to sometimes produce works of art that are worthy of consideration, beyond the entertainment value, that can offer the world a valuable message, and form of hope in and of itself. Personally, this medium has allowed me to interact with the world from a safe space. And that means a lot. Almost everything. At the same time, nothing lasts forever. So, the real answer is that I don't know.

I suffer from schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, with mild autism. But that is because my mother is also damaged. And all these problems stem from chromosomal disorders and genetic damage that cannot be repaired without killing me, basically. But I have turned my developmental damage into an extended childhood of sorts. Do you remember that day from your childhood, when you were with your parents at home, and everything was alright? And somehow that memory stuck with you? Well, I have taken that memory, and made it into every single day of my life. And it is not like I could have done anything different, because I have real developmental problems and I am kinda crippled because of it. So, my fate was to be among that subset of homeless people who are damaged beyond repair. Because, I am one of them. I am a "vagabond" at heart. Or a mental patient, whichever view you like the most. But this was the best possible outcome, outside of that. And I am still "human". So, I saw my chance and I took it. Also, the mental illness that results from it, is no joke. Especially under stress. Imagine that my mother once wanted to bring back dead family members inside her mind, to take revenge for the past. Because she was always impotent in life. And I mean it, for real. No matter how many times I explained to her that the person in question died of cancer, and that I literally saw it before it happened at the hospital. She was still obsessed that said person was alive and plotting against her. So, it gets kinda ugly. But I have managed to keep my mother "spaced" over the years. Because, despite the fact that I suffer from similar problems myself. I am naturally more rational. And I am still capable to recognize the issue, and how to deal with it, although imperfectly. So, I lie to her, like I lie to myself. And I imagine her a better version of the world where her special mind can reside safely. And it has worked. She is far more stable than she used to be, and doesn't go for the knife anymore. So, I am very happy. Also, I promised my grandfather I was gonna keep my mother company. Because I have known I am damaged since childhood. And there is no plausible future for me, outside of causing more damage already, because I have all the tendencies of an addict due to this biological depression. So, I have made it my purpose to stay with her like her child. And she takes care of me. Not much different from before. Since my mother also lived with her father until he was 72 years old. So, I will stay with her. And then die, most likely. Because unlike her, I want to believe I am a little bit more clever when it comes to recognize my own limitations. But all in all. It has been a good life. And I am very thankful.

Nothing, just relaxing. Because I've been fighting my demons all night. And that is a big achievement in and of itself. Meaning that now I get to sit back and enjoy life like a careless kid. So, my mother can see the child in me, and not the broken man. And also so she can be like a careless girl herself and not have to face the things that she is so gleefully despondent to recognize about reality. Those ugly things my grandfather told me about, but he never related to her or her brother. Because I cannot talk absolutely anything with my mother, since she was never ready to face life. So, in a way. My mother feels like my daughter now. But nothing new there. Since, she was always an irresponsible brat. And so am I. But I care about her, so I let her dream inside her own little world. While I face the real prospect from this chair, like a cripple.

Damn, it feels like yesterday. It is like when I look myself in the mirror, and I look exactly the same as I did in the picture I took more than ten years ago. Just creepy.

Quiet and peaceful. Not much different from the self-imposed quarantine we have been living in most of our lives here. Since my family suffers from developmental problems and all the mental disorders that come with having extra chromosomes. Thus, we have made a little safe-heaven for ourselves. Like our personal psychiatric ward, if you will. Because I have to protect my mother from the world. Since, she is too efficient at setting herself on fire, if you understand my meaning. Yes, insanity. A weaker and faulty body leads to a weaker and faulty mind. So, yeah. The lockdown was like any other day for us. Just more peaceful. But all things come to an end. And the world needs to keep going, regardless of our sickness.

Cool and overcast. Just the way I like it.

Spicy tuna tacos... amazing.

That I am little bit of a bastard. But at least I am honest about it. Also, that is part of the charm about my character. And... there are no two ways about it when you are stuck in the middle like myself. Meaning that there is suffering in this revelation. But there is also great joy. So, when all is said and done. That which irritates me the most about myself, is also that which I love the most about myself. Paradoxically speaking. This is what takes me to that perfect place where you can see everything with true perspective, and just laugh at life.

Thank you

It wasn't like that, the only way for my mother to keep me safe was to isolate me from the world. But this is because she was too weak to protect me herself. Also, I knew I was a "vagabond" since the beginning. But the rest of the family wanted me to be "normal" so much, that they ignored me whenever I brought this up. So, I had to dissociate and impersonate someone else, until the point I started to believe it myself. Because they would not accept the truth about me. But my behavioural problems were still there, regardless. Since this condition is developmental. 47. Also, I understood these limitations, and the damage that it would have caused, had I pursued a normal life. It would have been really bad. Imagine a neglected kid with a broken addict for a father. That would have been my future. So, even from the first day at school, when the prettiest girl in the classroom approach me. I saw it all. And that tragic image was burned into my mind. So, I started to isolate from everything, which caused me this depression and a lot of other problems that still affect my normal development to this day, but in a lesser way. It was a compromise, a sacrifice I had to make for myself and my family. And thus I returned with my mother. It was almost an instinctual response born out of my own weakness. Fear, and that implanted need to "survive". Which doesn't mean I don't love my own family. Only that I am too weak and deteriorated to show it most of the time, to the point we start looking past each other like we are not there anymore, because this hurts us. So, my passion turned into keeping that little girl that happened to become my mother, safe from a world that she was never ready to face. Even if it meant to kill my own passions in the process. That is it. There is no way around it other than a swift death. You know it, I know it. There is a reason animals kill off their weak offprings. It is a kindness. But they didn't do that with me. Therefore, I am still alive, despite the fact that I should have died long ago. And so, we suffer together now. Such is the price of this humanitarian endevour, in spite of nature's wisdom. But whenever the end arrives. I will welcome it. This is the the truth that they did not want to see about me. The plead that they denied me. Because at the very core, I want to die. Because I was always meant to. But time went on and the bonds were formed, eventually. Brittle links that hurt like hell. So, I tear apart now, between life and death. Between the truth and your false solution.

I was checking the requestria thread and thought, "well, that is a boring concept". And came up with this character instead. Still, really low effort, but hey... Geometra: she is one of the primordial elements, and sister to mathema. They are foundational elements that preceeded harmony, together with natura, phila, ethica, platona, concepta and more. They are also the ones in charge of defining and containing more abstract elements like tempora, for example. And even some that are beyond the comprehension of mortal creatures, including aberrations like Pi, from a time where chaos and its brethren reigned supreme. Until one of the forms that was born from this void betrayed his brothers and sisters, causing the origin of the first primordial element. Lumina. Which was the original name given to Celestia herself, when she was but a cute speck of light that ignited the elemental wars, before equestria was even formed. A tragic story of love between opposites that culminated with the betrayer being doomed to forever wander a world defined by order, seperated from his own kin until the end of time. Some believe that the betrayer was Discord himself, others - that he never existed to begin with, and a few select ones, do not even care about it. Since they have cookies. Which are the element of awesome!

About the stories my grandfather used to tell me during my childhood. And I wanted to say that I retract everything I ever said about him. He was a good man, and an excellent grandfather. But I had adopted the mindset from my mother to blame everyone but herself, and thought there was some dark secret in the family to justify that kind of resentfulness, other than the fact that she may have been adopted because she does not share anything in common with their parents. And she is a resentful person because of that, despite how fortunate she is. Still, I l always felt like I needed to protect her, so she never gets to know the real world. Telling her stories about fantastic places somewhere far away. Because even to this day. I can see a little girl in her. Also, to keep her safe from those stories my grandfather used to tell me. About recondite places in the interior of the country, where you could sometimes see strange people with something not quite right about their physical appearance. And some of the brutality that happened in there. And consider that my grandfather was born in another time. So, perhaps he got to see a different version of the world than myself. But I don't think he was lying, because when I looked at him. He didn't even blink. But it was the stuff of real nightmares. Things I cannot describe here because of how morbid and violent they are. Predatory behaviour and deranged animalism product from mental illness and developmental problems that were the result of inbreeding, most likely. The kind of stories you hear from psychiatric wards, but in the wild and running free. Also, I was able to recognize some of these pathological behaviours in me since childhood. So, whenever I start to become unstable, I remind myself of these stories to subdue myself. To scare myself. I do anything in my control to stay as innocent as a little child, for my mother. Because I know I am one of the wild people, and I am fortunate enough to live in society despite the impairments of this genetic condition. So, I kill the animal inside of me, everyday. And stay at home like an "old person" as long as it lasts. Because I cannot compromise her safety. I can tell you that your fears are unjustified. I won't become deranged. I have made a promise with myself, long ago. Even if we lose what our family left to us. I am gonna become a homeless beggar and get closer to "god". But I will never compromise my own identity. I am a born butcher. And I know it is "wrong". So, I have sealed myself, until the day I die. That is all you get from me, considering I've been robbed from my own element.

I've been trying to talk with my mother about our real situation. But she still believes herself superior to everyone else. When she is in fact a lesser person, like myself. We are useless to society. That is the truth. We always have been. We are the kind of special cases that should be sleeping outside of a church or worse. But she doesn't want to understand that she is living on the work and sacrifice of people. I told her to go and renounce the inheritance, if there is anything such. Give it all to charity. I don't want anything to do with that money, or the houses or anything else. I've been living with guilt most of my life because I have a life that I do not deserve, nor I ever earned. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted to be alone. I am sending my family tomorrow to give it all up. But my uncle is still resisting. Another "special" case. XXY syndrome. Klinnefelter. A 50 year old man that acts like a five year old. Someday he is gonna get shanked on the street or worse. And that is what I am trying to protect my mother from. But she doesn't want to listen. Please, if you are listening to this, and you have any control over this situation, whether it is through the lawyers, or someone else. Take it all away. I just wanted to sit outside a church and see the world pass by, anyways. I've been impersonating someone else my entire life. And this house is wasting away. I don't have the capacity to take care of it. I never had the capacity. I was not born with it. Because this is probably jakob's syndrome. Right? I should not be here to begin with. Not like this anyways. But she doesn't want to give it up, and she is still bringing me down with her. She wants more, and more and nothing. But nothing will ever give her what she lost. So, take it all away, if it can save her life. Because she is really that stupid and that greedy. But she is still my mother.