Precognition? Age 6 or 7 This was a real dream I had
They’re dying. The entire race is dying. He cried to himself in his feverish delirium, as if something was yet to happen or a fading memory of what had happened. An event was transposed into his heightened awareness. An awareness only brought on by the sickness of fever that could weaken his mortal psychological defenses to the quantum network of eternal consciousness.
A blurry image of a planet populated by a race of beings facing utter oblivion screaming out into the void of space and time for help. For someone to hear them, or a god to save them. No one was listening. The universe didn’t care. The boy’s hands are clasped into a prayer, the sides of his forehead; sweat glistening on his face dripping from his scalp. Kneeling by his bed in anguish; a sorrow projected from within but also from an external source.
The boy had a vision in his delirium that was vivid, almost fully manifested as the race was extinguished. It was a race that was facing obliteration, some unlucky species set adrift in the tides of space-time.
I am at the point now where I am losing my sight and my vision, but I am gaining something else in its place, because you should come to understand that I was that little boy in the delirium of fever, who foresaw a demise of a species and felt their pain, their last death cry if only to be remembered once.
Is their legacy only remembered through me; did I hear their cry in the vastness of infinity, in an uncaring universe devoid of empathy?
For whatever reason these four short scifi stories are interconnected. It was never my intention nor concept, these stories were written at different times in my life; yet they all speak to the philosophy & concepts of reality, creation, chaos, order, and individuality.
Know this, a person that breaks the narrative is a threat to ideology.
Substack: Alien Relay 3.0/Eroheretic – May of 2025 to December 25th, 2025
First, I met a lot of great people on SS. Many i am still fond of, but when the “ss notes” became more like any other sm (in long form mind you), to me it became no better than bskye.
2025 was also one of the hardest years of my life in a personal and on an emotional level. What follows is intimately tied with my sexual assaults, and I can not finish my story without having it be part of this prompt. I probably cried out my body weight in 2025.
Some on SS found me being vocal and speaking out a threat to the narrative, but I was not trying to be a threat or equate male sexual assault of woman to female sexual assault on men. I was just coming out to tell my story, so other men, don’t have to suffer in silence, and maybe get a little help in a mental health & criminal system that ignores or excludes male sa victims based on biology & conditioned behaviors.
Because for a lot of men, it ends in suicide.
Since my background is in science i decided to do some research on sexual assault of males, commited by females.
All I found was two studies!
Woman have every right to demand more studies about female medical issues / I think men have this same right to demand studies on the taboo topic of sexual assault on them.
32% of men are Sexually assaulted by women every year, that’s about a little under 1/3 of the population of the US.
The rate of emotional abuse in male/female relationships is about even at ~43%.
Males are expected to respond affirmatively to all female sexual advances.
These two facts alone break the narrative we grew up with. I myself, a diehard lefty male for most of my life, till the middle of last year, was clueless and had no idea about these statistics. What I think about modern femenism? vs. What I considered feminism? – is another blog entirely, and I don’t want to get into it now.
The first man I met who told me he was sexually assaulted, I personally was disgusted by him. It was a reaction, that as a man i was conditioned to have. The reaction was fucking surreal, me a survivor of sa, disgusted by another male sa survivor. Eventually we started talking about how we felt after being assaulted and three reactions were similar:
1. We felt it was completely our fault.
2. Our sense of masculinity was destroyed and had to be rebuilt ground up.
3. We felt like we were the ones who were guilty, as if we were guilty of the assault.
4. No one cared and there were no options for help (this being the worst of them).
Earlier on SS probably June, I did come out about my assaults, most people and woman had so much grace, they empathized with me, gave me hope at a time when I was at my lowest. Still I didn’t think I was allowed to call myself a victim. Until I met a woman named Michelle, who said, I was a “survivor.”
This changed my life, only then I felt I was able, allowed, to TAKE the “victim” label (it’s not given to adult men who survive, we have to take it.) There was a lot of back and forth in my mind, sometimes it was the “all women” guilt game , other times i was a rage filled aggreived victim, and the most difficult, “There was no way I could identify as a male feminist anymore”, i had to kill that part of myself to move forward. It was a core part of my identity since at least 16, it was as if i ripped out a part of my soul. I felt betrayed by femenism, the left, and Democrats. I also realized that I had deep ingrained misandry in my mind, because in 2025 I learned i was considered a villian at birth.
“How could I be a villian, if i was victimized by a woman?”
This filled me with rage, a deep ingrained rage, that was tearing me apart. I got really dark, considered taking myself off the list, dark hopeless days they were. Then I wrote this: Mirror
One of the worst things ive ever written, but it had to be done or there was the alternative.
Yes, there’s a manosphere, but there’s also a femosphere too. From the MAGA right i was a pathetic simp that should be killed or i should kill myself, this is to be expected, not surprised, but it still didn’t sit right.
The worst however came from the left:
1. Told I was still privileged, and being assaulted was probably not as bad as I say.
2. It’s patriarchy’s fault & the assaulters internal misogyny made them do it.
3. Numerous times I was told I should be objectified more and be raped multiple times. That any woman empathizing with me, was wrong and I was manipulating them.
4. I was stalked, the last time at the end of November and into December on my notes and published works, again i was attacked for explaining the statistics and saying that “anyone who is assaulted, regardless of sex, should be treated equally.” Apparently for some; I was to be punished for the sins of other men.
At least the right is honest in their hatred that I should die, the left was all about punishment & revenge.
I was done, SS with notes became a lot like Blueskye, becoming full of horrible people (Also before SS got popular with writers it was a favorite platform for neo-nazi’s and white supremacists, racist, bigots, and trans-hating femenists.). I left Christmas day. Here is a link, a goodbye & reasons, my: SwanSong
I decided to come back to WP-JP. It’s Nice and slow, no doom scrolling for likes, little drama and most of the time everyone i meet is pretty cool.
Im mostly Isolated on my island. If my writing is read or not, I don’t care. If others like it, i appreciate you. If people don’t like it,i still appreciate you for taking a look.
I walked green miles of jungle / I walked through yellow miles of pain I crossed starvation’s desert / Watched dead rivers swell with rain The song of insects filled the air / Nights in cites of despair Where killer’s sons said, son beware / And all the roads from here to there I sailed the sea of desolation / Dropped my anchor there Plumbed the depths of isolation / Walked its length and was not scared Went from end to end to end / And then from there I went again The road that only this one knows / Off to nowhere here I go Illumination comes so hard / Makes me see but leaves its scars At times I wish that I didn’t know what I know now Thought and thought until I lost my mind Looked and looked until I went near blind The path is fair but so unkind At night the highway’s diesel roar / Speaks to me and tells me more Than any book I’ve ever read / Or anything you ever said With silent eyes inside / I watch myself and worlds collide The seasons burn and crack my skin / I stay outside and live within
Illumination · Rollins Band Get Some Go Again ℗ 2000 SKG Music L.L.C….more
Ecoheretic 