Keep Writing

I’ve been writing since 2011, and I started out being really interested in fantasy. Then I dabbled in romance and sci-fi. Now here I am writing a gothic romance of sorts. But I’m curious, what genres have you all dabbled in?

I was having a conversation with myself as I do frequently without nicotine, as the onset of nicotine silences my mind and I can get a-writing at maximum capacity in what counts as a “sprint” for me. This is something my life partner taught me how he programs, in set chunks called “sprints” to keep all the necessary information in his short term memory while working on something all entangled with itself.

With my writing style, it's hard to graph the path I will specifically take, as I meander and state things out of chronological order. Likewise, I never know where I'm going. Like, I wanted to lead into a talk about why Stephen King writes mostly horror, which would lead to talking about Carl Jung and the self/shadow consciousness, which would then lead to me talking about what has allowed me to change so much; expressing myself led to a processing of trauma-induced unconscious emotions which when censored by my brain resulted in them festering into deeper problems of being.

But now we've wandered in the intro and have greater opportunities than before, because now I have a unique mixture of things to talk about, most notably being how I have learned to let everything out of me freely, and the combinatory process of connecting this idea to that one leads to a novel form of presenting all facets of information to a reader. Most of the time, having developed my empathy skill by broadcasting to a nebulous “they,” I am primarily focused in my efforts on creating a long history of educational material for a random stranger who may or may not understand me, but in creating a whole library of these types of posts, which I've done for twelve years, I am constantly creating a landing space for a sudden intake of attention, and I know how to generate hundreds of thousands of views, if not millions at this point.

Hard to practice or experiment now to test the best way to do things while trying to stay small in order to better serve those people who do get caught in my orbit; if I shoot up to half a million views on a main library, that's it, I've got at least fifteen minutes of fame and the aftermath. Is it sustainable? Will the FBI pick me up again? Am I a cop? I have no idea. I care about education, and in authentically expressing myself, I am showing how that is done and others may take inspiration from this.

My phone's keyboard made a typo there, changing take to tale, and now I feel compelled to talk about how one of the most noticeable impacts on a single person I've had was just a random lad starting college. I replied in a dubious style of presenting information, but offered what general help I could. The Reddit thread took off, hundreds of people replied. Mine was chosen as one of three that impacted him the most. He left a huge comment on a video of a podcast I was on, praising me. It was weird, but I was moved at the same time.

You can impact people by presenting the same information in a special or just novel way. Learn how to speak authentically as yourself, and then those who resonate with your true nature will start reading your words. That's how you develop a following. It's not about being good, or being the best. It's about being real, and if you can do that, it doesn't matter if your writing homework looks like a pizza from all the red marks, you'll have the most moving story or essay or article or what have you.

These first poems are from twelve years ago, the very first of my post-primordial poetry; that which I started when I started writing every day:

I am The Way and The Truth and The Life:

No one comes to The Father except through me.

The Way is the path the seed takes to become fruit:

So that the garden may forever be seeded.

The Truth is that of the farmer who knows he is His own crop:

So that he may grow to be the best he can be.

The Life is one of trials and lessons:

So that we may have a better head than the one of yesterday.

The Way

The garden is filled with many thorns

That leave their mark on our souls.

If left untreated, these scars will grow into horns,

And make us lose sight of our true goals.

Take solace in knowing that the scars are The Way:

For in seeking the source that causes us to hate,

Can we find the peace that makes us whole.

Though the vault of memories is often sealed,

It is in the trial of opening it that we are healed.

Though we were hurt, it is in the light of love,

For our struggles will grow what we are made of.

The Truth

Once there was a farmer who was like a sloth.

He desired fortune, but sowed no seeds.

In the absence of work, his fields showed no growth,

For one's harvest is dependent on one's deeds.

Another farmer dedicated his life to his craft.

“Why do you work more than is needed?” his wife once asked.

“If I spend each day working the Earth,

Then like my wheat, I grow my own worth.

Over time, my efforts accumulate,

And soon I will be a man who can be called great.”

The Life

There was once a rich man who had a son.

The unlucky child lived a life of luxury.

His father gave him everything he had won,

So the son's life was free of drudgery.

Yet, when he became man, there was no joy

For he had grown nothing when he was a boy.

And any bump in the road would cause him to give in.

There was once a poor man who had a daughter.

The blessed child lived a life of adversity.

The man had so little he could give her.

So many troubles came their way: they could only be pitied.

Yet, when she became a woman, every day was like a pearl

For the bumpy roads had conditioned her when she was but a girl

To rise up to every challenge that she was given.

...

I just redid those four conjoined poems into four poems of three lines, after those twelve years of progress:

The way is what takes you there

The truth tells you exactly where

The life is good and all be so fair

.

I pricked myself today to feel

To turn the self like the wheel

From present my future steal

.

Why do you work so hard my dear?

I know the devil and death I do fear

That is why 2 highest height I steer

.

He was so fortunate

She - sadly - was not

Yet hu tie better knot

...

The wisdom is self-evident.

Hi everyone! A few days ago I shared an idea here about creating a digital space focused entirely on anonymous venting and emotional relief, without profiles, comments, or dopamine traps. The feedback was incredible and helped me refine the concept.

I spent the last few days coding, and I’ve just deployed the live version.

I wanted to respect privacy from day one, so there are no signups, no emails, and no tracking. It's just a digital corkboard with a cozy, analogue aesthetic where you can pin a handwritten-style note or silently read what other strangers around the world are feeling right now. To avoid the usual forum noise, there are no text comments—only silent, supportive emoji reactions (like a digital hug).

If your chest feels heavy today or you just want to quiet your mind for a bit, feel free to drop your "message in a bottle" here:

--> https://el-diario-de-nadie.vercel.app/

Stack used: Next.js + PocketBase. I'm planning to open-source it soon on GitHub once I clean up the repo. Would love to hear your thoughts on the live experience!

A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.

On Publish0x:

https://www.publish0x.com/storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions/fragment-124-xrprjkl?a=X7axkJW3ey

On Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/1628904884-storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions-fragment-124

On Minkly:

https://www.minkly.io/series/chapters/3393

Hi everyone, I'm relatively new here. A few weeks ago I went through a complicated family situation, and I had no one to talk to about it. But I felt like I needed to get it off my chest. So I wrote a very intimate letter, saying all the things I didn't dare say out loud, and it helped me a lot. It was therapeutic, I'd say.

A couple of days later, once the storm had calmed down, an idea came to me. The thing is, I've been a web developer for about 3 years now, and I thought about creating a space – kind of like a social network or blog – where people could vent without pressure, without social noise, none of that. Just like a daily journal.

And that's what I've been working on for the past couple of weeks. So I'd like to know: does this sound interesting to you? Do you relate to anything I said? Do you think a site like this could help people? Anyway, I'm listening.

Like the title says

Is there any merit to writing seeds of a plot rather than a whole plot? Usually I have another commission stories on my ideas, but the amount of an actual story I have written for the past 5 years I can count with one hand.

Not to mention the lack of feedback of just my story ideas is....depressing. Like I'm invisible.

Thoughts? Or am I just being a wuss?

I submitted my first short story to three magazines. After six months of waiting, it's been rejected twice (thrice maybe?) It's not a nice feeling being rejected, but its ultimately a good thing, in a way. I go through my thoughts as I process these rejections and what I'm going to do next.

A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.

On Publish0x:

https://www.publish0x.com/storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions/fragment-123-xmgrdxz?a=X7axkJW3ey

On Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/1622905647-storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions-fragment-123

On Minkly:

https://www.minkly.io/series/chapters/2823

Tl;dr - juggling, obviously

But for those of you that do not have a sense that where it goes right and/or wrong when it does and doesn't, and other fun aneurisms at the office, I am Victorious Phoenix, retard extraordinare, famous for things like my sex cult and infamous for things like the Craigslist incident, and this is me being humble, btw.

You may have noticed I did an tyop up there in the titlootski, but that is one aspect of where my skill is innately employed. Every dingledoodle, bimbapper, and messiah candidate who has written more than two pages of something creative of their own voluition calls themselves a good writer. Finishing the first draft of a chapter warrants the ignobelian use of great.

Hence, I am a skilled righter, because I am the world's largest hebephile at large and I stand up for the rights of everybody who, no seriously, I right my sins is the joke, where sin is obviously "defilement" in the Ālaya-vijñāna, which is the möbiation of one's karmic/quantum entanglements within the topological matrix we are not IN, but rather ARE.

And that's why juggling made me the wordsmithing juggernaut with astronomical daily word count (record: without amphetamines - 8k-ish, with amphetamines - 16,284) with merit on SOME axises of, uh, merit, because you are what you entangle yourself with.

After that acid trip where I was abducted by the Crazy Indigo Aliens and taught about the psychotronic spiritual warfare I previously deduced MUST be happening in our police state, I thought I had a job waiting for me, so I wrote a lot, like 500-1000 words a day, erryday, then joined a cult, escaped, realized I was a woman on another acid trip, became homeless, traveled the country, started a sex cult built around incestuous necrophilia for platypuses, got v& by the FBI, talked my way out of it, wrote my book on meth, escaped my one handler in the CIA to be rescued from homeless by my compassionate life partner who may have set me up, and now I just have a sex cult for kids. It's educational; I teach those that laugh at such a thing about how much Jesus loves them!

But the reason for that is because I accidentally told my ROTC cadre that my sister (nonexistent) got me pregnant. It's a fun situation I'm in, having been chosen to kickstart the completely onrails revolution with a courtcase so fucky that children and adults alike will be unable to resist going through my just recently suspended X account in the same way they couldn't resist going through the Epstein emails, cuz I'm his boss, btw, that still very alive cop who's friends with that orange cop-in-chief, similar to Hunter Biden and the Clintons, and Israel; lost tribe strategy - have part of your network play the heel for intelligence gathering and counterintelligence potential.

But I'm just bait, being this master baiter (skilled righter AND performance artist playing an authentic, autobiographical character), cuz I know everything I type is regalinated on a keylogger thanks to Pegasus II because of:

1. The bomb incident

2. The schizophrenia

3. Craigslist incident

4. I have been set up

5. Repeat 4 infinitely

I'm sure it looks bad on paper, but hey, at least I know God is good, because look at the fucking line length! GOAT of goat starers, right here! And that's because I busted my ass in complete psychosis, thanks to MKULTRA and Obama. I entangled myself with positive things, which means I made my neurons fire and then there were a lot more connections.

Waking up and journaling in free-writing stream of consciousness is great for that purpose, and also works as a great therapy. Likewise, having an additional art to channel your creative potential through can make some important connections. In living the life of the artist you want to be, you will grow to become that artist. Performance art as a whole helped give me exposure therapy and conditioned me out of much maladaptation about being a genuine schizoautismo oblivious savant (I am so counterintelligent).

God says this is good. More? No I don't wanna! I am master of my own destiny, so I can create on a whim and be perfectly content to stop in the middl

A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.

On Publish0x:

https://www.publish0x.com/storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions/fragment-122-xpllprz?a=X7axkJW3ey

On Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/1614342067-storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions-fragment-122

On Minkly:

https://www.minkly.io/series/chapters/2187

I feel like I used to be a lot more creative and prolific with writing in my younger years. Lately it feels like life and age has essentially robbed me of both, like the well has run dry. I try to make writing prompts on the writing prompts community but every time I sit to write one, I can't actually think of anything unique or good. How do I deal with this?

A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.

On Publish0x:

https://www.publish0x.com/storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions/fragment-121-xnjkozq?a=X7axkJW3ey

On Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/1610909053-storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions-fragment-121

On Minkly:

https://www.minkly.io/series/chapters/2142

Fun fact, while revisiting an old story I published, I realised that, after doing a lot of research previously into the years of a specific thing, that I could not use a name of a place because it was changed in 1954... The story took place in 1955. I am so stupid.

Looking for some good website recommendations (I'm good with short stories, not novels yet), preferably one that is privacy respecting.

After not writing for weeks, I began writing again after gaining new motivation at midnight. Sadly, I could only get a thousand words down before I finally had to succumb to sleep. I've heard a lot about people always getting motivation at night and writing best at night, which I have found true for myself. Night is so different, so still and quiet, that even being alone during the day is not as tranquil as it is at night. It's the prime time to focus. Does anyone else experience this?

i want a genre called yield fantasy

the opposite of "weak to powerful" progression: protagonist starts with alot and humbles.

surely examples already exist, maybe a genre already exists, welp

A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.

On Publish0x:

https://www.publish0x.com/storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions/fragment-120-xmgjrxr?a=X7axkJW3ey

On Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/1606645658-storytelling-in-paragraph-proportions-fragment-120

On Minkly:

https://www.minkly.io/series/chapters/1784

Hello to everyone visiting this community!

I just wanted to apologize to everyone, as I didn't want to spam here.

After communicating with several members of the community, I've decided to stop posting for some time, until I make an article that suits this community better.

My last post remains the "No title writing challenge!" , which is a writing prompt for a contest organized by me. And sposored by me. The deadline for submissions is 17.6.2026. and the first prize is 100€ and a featured story in my publication. So check it out if you want to share a personal essay.

I've come to this community in order to get feedback and share my work, as well as to promote my publication and reach more readers and writers. I don't sell anything. I just want to find real people who like to read and write and to build something together.

I wish the best to all! :)

This is a writing challenge, sponsored by me.

First prize is 100€ award and a featured story in my publication.

Everyone can participate, you can log in to medium free account with your Google acc or any other email.

I encourage you to read the writing prompt and participate in this challenge.

Thank you for reading!