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"preview_size_y": null, "initial_file_md5": "e61911fd77eb4115feedf9d73eb82856", "full_file_md5": "e61911fd77eb4115feedf9d73eb82856", "large_file_md5": "", "small_file_md5": "", "thumbnail_md5": "573dd9bf85eb49aa464c94855e5b4e5b", "deleted": "f", "create_datetime": "2025-06-01 10:04:48.731455+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "01 Jun 2025 12:04 CEST", "thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/5587/5587227_inkfurry_b125.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/5587/5587227_inkfurry_b125.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/5587/5587227_inkfurry_b125.jpg", "thumb_huge_x": "200", "thumb_huge_y": "300", "thumb_large_x": "133", "thumb_large_y": "200", "thumb_medium_x": "80", "thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "pools": [], "description": "this is like climbing a steep mountain you don't notice when it starts but each fall is worse and more painful than the last, I don't even know why I dared to write this it was an outburst of rage frustration desperation I just wanted to at least feel like I could express it with something some substitute for the various screams and tantrums I've been trying to write all this for three days and every paragraph was stopped by tears that I was unable to control I don't want to keep crying thinking or moaning drowning in my pillow I just want to get through the rest of the day to start the next and maybe survive myself for another 24 hours.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "this is like climbing a steep mountain you don't notice when it starts but each fall is worse and more painful than the last, I don't even know why I dared to write this it was an outburst of rage frustration desperation I just wanted to at least feel like I could express it with something some substitute for the various screams and tantrums I've been trying to write all this for three days and every paragraph was stopped by tears that I was unable to control I don't want to keep crying thinking or moaning drowning in my pillow I just want to get through the rest of the day to start the next and maybe survive myself for another 24 hours.", "writing": "I feel compelled to add these lines prior to the original text I wrote a few days ago. The idea was simply a monologue to say goodbye to the character who has accompanied me for the past nine years under the name B-612. No, it's not a reference to the page you're thinking of. I've been writing this for three hours, and there are only 63 words on my screen, so I'll try not to make this too long.\n\nThe following content contains highly sensitive references: prostitution, rape, torture and assault, all of the above applied to a minor. As for the disclaimer: I express it as a metaphor for my experiences, which, in the absence of evidence, will be left to the reader's decision.\n\nno, I can't find the words to frame the importance of this, I guess that's why the same thing is always said, please if you're going through a shitty time and you go on and on to the point that when you lie down in your bed you only think - I wish I didn't wake up tomorrow - seek help at least from someone, friends, family, patients, whoever, believe me those ideas will never go away, it's been 25 years with him and I don't think he'll ever go away.\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ \n A fursona's monologue.\n\n- You're finally bored of me, right?\n\n- No, of course not. I just think it's time for a change.\n\n- I don't want to.\n\n- Not all changes are bad.\n\n- SHUT UP LIAR, every damn change has only been for the worse and worse.\nWhen people say change, it only means ending. I don't want it to end or that it's over.\n\nI can understand why this scares you.\n\n- I was born to be scared. Remember, you couldn't stand it anymore?\n\nAnd you created me just to keep begging for affection on the internet.\n\nIt's not true.\n\n- Oh, for the love of Adonay, you'd suck off teachers or any adult who spoke to you nicely just so they'd hug you or give you a little of the attention your parents never gave you. You cut short your childhood in the name of being a good son, and it didn't work. You tried to stay out of trouble so you wouldn't worry, and it didn't work. You repressed your sensuality so your family wouldn't be ashamed. Until you were 25, fucking years old. Of so many things, only one would have worked for you, and you weren't capable. Enough, enough is enough... please.\n\n- I lived through every damn shit together with Tigo for 9 damn years. Every drawing is just a damn self-reproach of cowardice.\n\n. that you shut up\n\n- IN YOUR DRAWINGS... I've hung myself poisoned\n bled to death throwing myself off some staircase or window\n and I've even shot myself between the eyes\n feeling how your heart rots in apprehension for not being you.\n\n- AND OF COURSE WITHOUT MENTIONING ALL THOSE WHORES\n KISSES THAT YOU ENDED UP BEING BECAUSE OF YOU'RE A BITCH\n\n. SAW THE FUCKING BRASS, PLEASE PLEASE DON'T SAY IT\n DON'T SAY IT YOU DIDN'T LIVE IT YOU WERE NOT THERE\n\n-I LIVED IT IN YOUR FUCKING ATTEMPT AT ART WHAT I REMEMBER YOU ARE YOUR FUCKING MEMORIES, I ALSO LIVED THOSE MOMENTS WHERE YOUR HEART STOPPED WHEN YOU REALIZED THAT PERSON WOULDN'T BE LOVING TO YOU ALL THE HITS INSULTS THE TERROR SAYING WHETHER HE WOULD STOP OR NOT AFTER HE CUMMED\nTHE THREE BABY TEETH YOU LOST WHEN THEY FORCED YOU TO OPEN YOUR MOUTH OR ALL THE TOILET PAPER YOU USED TO TRY NOT TO STAIN THE BATHROOM WITH BLOOD OR HOW THEY GRAB YOUR HAIR WHEN INSTINCT FORCED YOU TO RUN\nEVEN THE ONLY GOOD THING IN ALL OF THAT WAS LEARNING TO CRY IN SILENCE.\n- AND THE WORST OF ALL WAS THAT AFTER A FEW WEEKS... WE GOT TO TRY AGAIN BECAUSE FOR US THE FACT THAT THEY HAD TREATED US WORSE THAN A DOG WAS BECAUSE WE HAD DONE SOMETHING WRONG.\n. we can't go on like this, you know all those things come and go but they always come back\n and if we add our anxiety and depression seeing everything getting worse... things won't look good\n do you want the bosses to come back?\n\n_nooo nooo not the bosses\n\n. Do you remember how their echoes resonated in the room and their breath in our ears? The visions of shadows at the door that on more than one occasion made us urinate in fear every time the medications wore off?\n\n-No, please, no. In the last attack, I smashed my eardrum with the pencils and my ear was almost severed. Then, the confinement.\n\nThe medications, the tests, and the noise of the machines.\n\n. so, you know we can't go on like this\n\n- I don't want to change, I don't want this to end, I don't want new people to leave\n I don't want feelings to change, mutate, or degrade, I don't want, I don't want I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE, I DON'T WANT TO BE IN THIS PLACE ANYMORE, I WANT TO LEAVE, I WANT\n TO RUN AWAY SO HARD THAT AFTER A SHORT TIME I DROP DEAD, AND FINALLY NEVER WAKE UP AGAIN\n\nDid you say that or did I?\n\nRemind me, what's my name?\n\nYour name is B-612.\n\nWhy do we have different names?\n\nI don't remember.\n\nWhy did you name me B-612?\n\nBecause of a book I read as a child and really liked.\n\n-What was the book called?\n\n. I already told you, it's not important.\n\n-At least you learned something good?\n\n-I learned that important things don't go unseen, they're just forgotten.\n-I learned that shame comes from any action you attempt, not just one.\n-I learned that the ephemeral, just like the imperishable, are irrelevant.\n-And most importantly, it doesn't matter if someone cries inconsolably in the sand.\n-No one will drop their homework to help.\n.believe me, in my current state, I don't want to think about things like that. I can't bear the idea of ​​just letting go.\n\n-then it's just over like that. I want to know your name.\n\n.inkfurry\n\n-that's an alias, I want to know your name.\n\n.but I don't use my dad's name, so they call me all kinds of names.\n\n-name, just tell me your name.\n\n.I don't know. Others call me Arturo, sometimes they call me Noel.\n\n-you're pathetic. You talk about changes and you don't even have a proper name.\n Start by adopting a single name. Whether you like it or not, by blood you are entitled to one name, and we know it.\n the original one you were given by birth.\n\n-That's all. I have nothing more to complain about or reproach you for all the shit you didn't even mention in this monologue.\n It's your responsibility, not mine, nor that of friends or family, much less the 2 or 3 readers who come here out of morbid curiosity.\n\nYou won't have a happy ending. Life is more shit than joy. All you can do is pray for a little consideration for yourself.\n\nAnd if, well, you'll never be able to make peace with your demons, at least a truce might calm you down.\n\n-See you later, Aryeh. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.\n\nWait, wait, we can still keep talking, right?\n\n.Hello?\n\n. Hello??\n\n. Hey, answer.\n\n. Come on, please. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me alone.\n \n \n -. Alone... but I've always been alone, haven't I?\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nThat's all, frankly I wrote it in a deplorable state mentally speaking but the fact of separating myself and b-126 allowed me a terrifying inhibition between the hurt child and the adult who carries those damn scars that still hurt and a lot of everything I said to myself really felt like my stomach was being ripped open and at the same time it was also like being 9 10 12 years old again without feelings of guilt or fear of being hit for speaking out and I just wanted to ask those people why they didn't stay it was good I didn't misbehave Asia whatever they asked even if it hurt me with that there was something that surprised me. I don't have feelings of hatred towards them, I don't hate them, I am still convinced that it was my fault and I repeat and repeat that that is not true\n\nThat I simply ran into horrible people thanks to teachers who manipulated and distorted displays of attention and affection. I know I can deduce all that, but then I'd rather cling to a fucking lie just to avoid admitting that few of the memories where I felt happy were just an excuse. This is ridiculous, not to say sick and disgusting.\n\nI don't know what triggered all this again. Usually, they're feelings that are always there, but to a lesser extent. In 2018, I had a psychotic outbreak, to put it mildly. It started with visual hallucinations, nothing detailed, they were spots, shadows that moved, or the environment became distorted. It seemed more like a visual glitch, really. The auditory ones followed, first mild, like things falling.\nglass cups or some box full of books, strident things then the voices, grunts, insults, remembering, they don't even match someone I knew. I think my brain invented them on the night of the attack. I only remember when the insults started. I dare swear I felt a hand touching my crotch. Everything faded afterward. I don't know what happened. There aren't even fragments of a struggle or the certain immobilization of the soldiers (I'm from Mexico. At that year, the country was militarized).\nI think the rest is irrelevant, but I've been hearing things again, and the visual hallucinations are returning more and more frequently, including detailed torsos or humanoid figures slithering in the periphery of my eyes. I'm terrified of what the doctor might find.\n\nI won't turn this into a medical drama. At the time, I even remember managing to make a small drawing of the attack, which will surely be in the gallery.\n\nThat's all, at least what my little courage has allowed me to share. My parents' relationship with me was a mess. My mother died 7 months ago, and everything keeps adding up.\nI don't intend this to be some kind of redemption or healing letter. I just want to say that for someone like me, incapable of speaking about real emotions or memories, being able to write this was something I thought I'd simply never be able to do.\nI really appreciate you taking the time to share with me, thank you very much n_n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "I feel compelled to add these lines prior to the original text I wrote a few days ago. The idea was simply a monologue to say goodbye to the character who has accompanied me for the past nine years under the name B-612. No, it's not a reference to the page you're thinking of. I've been writing this for three hours, and there are only 63 words on my screen, so I'll try not to make this too long.

The following content contains highly sensitive references: prostitution, rape, torture and assault, all of the above applied to a minor. As for the disclaimer: I express it as a metaphor for my experiences, which, in the absence of evidence, will be left to the reader's decision.

no, I can't find the words to frame the importance of this, I guess that's why the same thing is always said, please if you're going through a shitty time and you go on and on to the point that when you lie down in your bed you only think - I wish I didn't wake up tomorrow - seek help at least from someone, friends, family, patients, whoever, believe me those ideas will never go away, it's been 25 years with him and I don't think he'll ever go away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                              
                                                                      A fursona's monologue.

- You're finally bored of me, right?

- No, of course not. I just think it's time for a change.

- I don't want to.

- Not all changes are bad.

- SHUT UP LIAR, every damn change has only been for the worse and worse.
When people say change, it only means ending. I don't want it to end or that it's over.

I can understand why this scares you.

- I was born to be scared. Remember, you couldn't stand it anymore?

And you created me just to keep begging for affection on the internet.

It's not true.

- Oh, for the love of Adonay, you'd suck off teachers or any adult who spoke to you nicely just so they'd hug you or give you a little of the attention your parents never gave you. You cut short your childhood in the name of being a good son, and it didn't work. You tried to stay out of trouble so you wouldn't worry, and it didn't work. You repressed your sensuality so your family wouldn't be ashamed. Until you were 25, fucking years old. Of so many things, only one would have worked for you, and you weren't capable. Enough, enough is enough... please.

- I lived through every damn shit together with Tigo for 9 damn years. Every drawing is just a damn self-reproach of cowardice.

. that you shut up

- IN YOUR DRAWINGS... I've hung myself poisoned
  bled to death throwing myself off some staircase or window
  and I've even shot myself between the eyes
  feeling how your heart rots in apprehension for not being you.

- AND OF COURSE WITHOUT MENTIONING ALL THOSE WHORES
  KISSES THAT YOU ENDED UP BEING BECAUSE OF YOU'RE A BITCH

. SAW THE FUCKING BRASS, PLEASE PLEASE DON'T SAY IT
  DON'T SAY IT YOU DIDN'T LIVE IT YOU WERE NOT THERE

-I LIVED IT IN YOUR FUCKING ATTEMPT AT ART WHAT I REMEMBER YOU ARE YOUR FUCKING MEMORIES, I ALSO LIVED THOSE MOMENTS WHERE YOUR HEART STOPPED WHEN YOU REALIZED THAT PERSON WOULDN'T BE LOVING TO YOU ALL THE HITS INSULTS THE TERROR SAYING WHETHER HE WOULD STOP OR NOT AFTER HE CUMMED
THE THREE BABY TEETH YOU LOST WHEN THEY FORCED YOU TO OPEN YOUR MOUTH OR ALL THE TOILET PAPER YOU USED TO TRY NOT TO STAIN THE BATHROOM WITH BLOOD OR HOW THEY GRAB YOUR HAIR WHEN INSTINCT FORCED YOU TO RUN
EVEN THE ONLY GOOD THING IN ALL OF THAT WAS LEARNING TO CRY IN SILENCE.
- AND THE WORST OF ALL WAS THAT AFTER A FEW WEEKS... WE GOT TO TRY AGAIN BECAUSE FOR US THE FACT THAT THEY HAD TREATED US WORSE THAN A DOG WAS BECAUSE WE HAD DONE SOMETHING WRONG.
. we can't go on like this, you know all those things come and go but they always come back
  and if we add our anxiety and depression seeing everything getting worse... things won't look good
  do you want the bosses to come back?

_nooo nooo not the bosses

. Do you remember how their echoes resonated in the room and their breath in our ears? The visions of shadows at the door that on more than one occasion made us urinate in fear every time the medications wore off?

-No, please, no. In the last attack, I smashed my eardrum with the pencils and my ear was almost severed. Then, the confinement.

The medications, the tests, and the noise of the machines.

. so, you know we can't go on like this

- I don't want to change, I don't want this to end, I don't want new people to leave
  I don't want feelings to change, mutate, or degrade, I don't want, I don't want     I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE, I DON'T WANT TO BE IN THIS PLACE ANYMORE, I WANT TO LEAVE, I WANT
  TO RUN AWAY SO HARD THAT AFTER A SHORT TIME I DROP DEAD, AND FINALLY NEVER WAKE UP AGAIN

Did you say that or did I?

Remind me, what's my name?

Your name is B-612.

Why do we have different names?

I don't remember.

Why did you name me B-612?

Because of a book I read as a child and really liked.

-What was the book called?

. I already told you, it's not important.

-At least you learned something good?

-I learned that important things don't go unseen, they're just forgotten.
-I learned that shame comes from any action you attempt, not just one.
-I learned that the ephemeral, just like the imperishable, are irrelevant.
-And most importantly, it doesn't matter if someone cries inconsolably in the sand.
-No one will drop their homework to help.
.believe me, in my current state, I don't want to think about things like that. I can't bear the idea of ​​just letting go.

-then it's just over like that. I want to know your name.

.inkfurry

-that's an alias, I want to know your name.

.but I don't use my dad's name, so they call me all kinds of names.

-name, just tell me your name.

.I don't know. Others call me Arturo, sometimes they call me Noel.

-you're pathetic. You talk about changes and you don't even have a proper name.
  Start by adopting a single name. Whether you like it or not, by blood you are entitled to one name, and we know it.
 the original one you were given by birth.

-That's all. I have nothing more to complain about or reproach you for all the shit you didn't even mention in this monologue.
 It's your responsibility, not mine, nor that of friends or family, much less the 2 or 3 readers who come here out of morbid curiosity.

You won't have a happy ending. Life is more shit than joy. All you can do is pray for a little consideration for yourself.

And if, well, you'll never be able to make peace with your demons, at least a truce might calm you down.

-See you later, Aryeh. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.

Wait, wait, we can still keep talking, right?

.Hello?

. Hello??

. Hey, answer.

. Come on, please. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me alone.
                                                    
  
                                                      -. Alone... but I've always been alone, haven't I?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That's all, frankly I wrote it in a deplorable state mentally speaking but the fact of separating myself and b-126 allowed me a terrifying inhibition between the hurt child and the adult who carries those damn scars that still hurt and a lot of everything I said to myself really felt like my stomach was being ripped open and at the same time it was also like being 9 10 12 years old again without feelings of guilt or fear of being hit for speaking out and I just wanted to ask those people why they didn't stay it was good I didn't misbehave Asia whatever they asked even if it hurt me with that there was something that surprised me. I don't have feelings of hatred towards them, I don't hate them, I am still convinced that it was my fault and I repeat and repeat that that is not true

That I simply ran into horrible people thanks to teachers who manipulated and distorted displays of attention and affection. I know I can deduce all that, but then I'd rather cling to a fucking lie just to avoid admitting that few of the memories where I felt happy were just an excuse. This is ridiculous, not to say sick and disgusting.

I don't know what triggered all this again. Usually, they're feelings that are always there, but to a lesser extent. In 2018, I had a psychotic outbreak, to put it mildly. It started with visual hallucinations, nothing detailed, they were spots, shadows that moved, or the environment became distorted. It seemed more like a visual glitch, really. The auditory ones followed, first mild, like things falling.
glass cups or some box full of books, strident things then the voices, grunts, insults, remembering, they don't even match someone I knew. I think my brain invented them on the night of the attack. I only remember when the insults started. I dare swear I felt a hand touching my crotch. Everything faded afterward. I don't know what happened. There aren't even fragments of a struggle or the certain immobilization of the soldiers (I'm from Mexico. At that year, the country was militarized).
I think the rest is irrelevant, but I've been hearing things again, and the visual hallucinations are returning more and more frequently, including detailed torsos or humanoid figures slithering in the periphery of my eyes. I'm terrified of what the doctor might find.

I won't turn this into a medical drama. At the time, I even remember managing to make a small drawing of the attack, which will surely be in the gallery.

That's all, at least what my little courage has allowed me to share. My parents' relationship with me was a mess. My mother died 7 months ago, and everything keeps adding up.
I don't intend this to be some kind of redemption or healing letter. I just want to say that for someone like me, incapable of speaking about real emotions or memories, being able to write this was something I thought I'd simply never be able to do.
I really appreciate you taking the time to share with me, thank you very much n_n", "pools_count": 0, "title": "b-612 English", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "5", "name": "Strong Violence", "description": "Strong violence, blood, serious injury or death", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "2", "views": "270" }