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12 entries this month
Something important Personal Journal Entry~~Health20:14 Jun 28 2026
Times Read: 203
Journal Entry
Just some info for the friends I've made that care to know. Thought I'd keep you all updated.
There are things I have carried in my head—literally and otherwise—that I am only now beginning to fully acknowledge.
I have suffered at least twelve severe concussions that I can remember, and possibly more that I cannot clearly account for. Many of them were untreated. Some involved full loss of consciousness, though I cannot always say for how long. These were not minor incidents or “bumps to the head.” They were serious head injuries that should have been medically addressed at the time, but weren’t.
The cause of these injuries was real-life physical abuse. That truth is difficult to sit with, but it is part of my history, and I am no longer trying to minimize or rewrite it into something smaller than it was.
Lately, I’ve been noticing changes that concern me. My memory doesn’t feel like ordinary forgetfulness. I can still function in my daily life—I manage finances, handle errands, and keep up with responsibilities—but there are gaps and inconsistencies that don’t feel normal or familiar.
On top of that, I’m dealing with chronic head pain and migraines that can be intense. Over-the-counter medication doesn’t really help anymore. I also prefer to be cautious about controlled substances, so I want to approach treatment carefully and in a way that feels responsible for my body and long-term health.
I’ve scheduled an appointment with my primary care physician to talk through everything and request a referral to a neurologist. I want a proper evaluation of what’s going on. Given my history, it feels important to take the possibility of traumatic brain injury seriously instead of ignoring it or pushing through.
Right now, I’m in a space of uncertainty, but also awareness. I’m not trying to panic—I’m trying to pay attention. I don’t want to dismiss what my mind and body are communicating anymore.
For now, I’m taking it step by step: one appointment, one conversation, one answer at a time.
Journal Entry #1014:56 Jun 17 2026
Times Read: 285
Today has been a mix of emotions. Moving has been a big change, and I'm still trying to adjust to everything that comes with it. Being somewhere new can feel exciting, but it can also feel lonely when so much around me is unfamiliar.
My anxiety has been pretty strong lately. New situations and uncertainty tend to make me nervous, and sometimes it feels like my mind is racing faster than I can keep up with. Even when things seem overwhelming, I'm trying to remind myself that I don't have to figure everything out all at once.
I've been focusing on getting settled and taking things one step at a time. Some moments are easier than others, but I'm doing my best to stay patient with myself through the process. Change is rarely comfortable, but it's part of moving forward.
Despite the challenges, I'm grateful for making it through another day. Right now, my goal is to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even when the path ahead isn't completely clear.
– VoidinTime
Journal Entry # 906:26 Jun 14 2026
Times Read: 372
Some nights I wonder if the world is simply pretending to understand itself.
People speak with certainty as though certainty is something that can be held in a hand. They call ideas facts because enough voices repeat them. But repetition has never been proof. An echo is still only an echo.
I find myself staring at ordinary things for far longer than necessary. A cracked sidewalk. An abandoned shopping cart. A light left on in an empty building. They all seem like clues from a puzzle no one admits exists. Perhaps mystery isn't hidden from us—perhaps we've trained ourselves not to notice it.
The strangest part of existence is not that we ask questions, but that we eventually stop asking them. Children inspect every corner of reality until adulthood politely teaches them where not to look. We trade curiosity for convenience and call it wisdom.
I wonder how many theories are merely comfortable stories wearing expensive clothes. How many explanations exist because silence makes people uncomfortable? Maybe uncertainty is the only honest language.
Time itself feels suspicious. It races when I want to observe it and crawls when I try to escape it. Is time moving, or are we simply measuring our own disappearance?
Sometimes I think reality behaves differently when no one is paying attention. Not in some dramatic way, but subtly—as though the universe exhales when our backs are turned. There are places that feel forgotten even while standing in the middle of a crowd. There are conversations that seem to happen twice, once aloud and once somewhere invisible.
The more I learn, the less permanent anything appears. Labels fade. Definitions shift. Certainties collect dust. Even memories rewrite themselves while pretending they never changed.
Maybe the most peculiar truth is that people fear unanswered questions more than incorrect answers. We decorate the unknown with assumptions and then defend them as if they were discoveries.
So tonight, I choose not to solve anything. I choose to observe. To remain suspicious of certainty and loyal to curiosity. There is something beautiful about leaving a door unopened, knowing that whatever waits behind it has not yet been reduced to an explanation.
Perhaps the shadows are not hiding monsters.
Perhaps they are hiding better questions.
Profile update 06/13/202602:26 Jun 14 2026
Times Read: 420
I updated my profile.
Also a Notice:
And since people keep asking for reasons I do not know in private, and No I will not give names of who is asking cause I don't do that...I'm only posting this as I am very confused as many keep asking me the same question which is....
How many profiles on VR do you have?
Or What's your other Vr profile Name?
Or you seem experienced on vr?
If it had just been one person who asked me this I would not be concerned but now it is a lot ...so now I am very confused.
To answer every one bot now and in the future
This is my first and only Vampire rave account. And it shall remain my only vampire rave account.
Missing Hours Original Song VoidinTime17:45 Jun 13 2026
Times Read: 464
Missing Hours lyrics
©2026 VoidinTime
Verse 1
I wake up in a room I don’t remember choosing
Mirror shows a face that feels like losing
Time slips like water through my hands
Whole conversations I don’t understand
There’s coffee cold on a table I don’t know
Names on my phone that don’t feel like home
I swear I was here just a second ago
But the clock says I’ve been gone too long to show
Pre-Chorus
And I hear my name from somewhere inside
Like different voices learning how to survive
One pulls the wheel, one lets it go
And I’m the last to ever know
Chorus
I’m missing hours, I’m losing time
Pieces of me that don’t align
I don’t remember what I became
But they all answer to my name
If I’m the storm, then who’s the calm?
Who’s holding on when I’m not strong?
I wake up whole then come undone
I’m not just me—I’m more than one
Verse 2
There are texts I sent that I can’t read
Promises made that don’t feel like me
I see receipts, places I’ve been
Like a stranger living under my skin
And sometimes laughter cuts through the noise
Like someone younger, unfamiliar voice
They say “don’t worry, we handled it fine”
While I’m just trying to reclaim my mind
Pre-Chorus
And the mirrors never stay the same
Different eyes, same face, same name
I don’t know who’s been awake
When I disappear without a trace
Chorus
I’m missing hours, I’m losing time
Broken chapters in my mind
I don’t remember what I became
But they all answer to my name
If I’m the storm, then who’s the calm?
Who’s holding on when I’m not strong?
I wake up whole then come undone
I’m not just me—I’m more than one
Bridge
Don’t call it crazy, don’t call it wrong
It’s just survival that’s been too long
When the past won’t let the body be
It learns to split what it can’t release
And every piece is trying to breathe
Trying to carry what it has to keep
If I fall apart, I still remain
Just scattered light in a broken frame
Final Chorus
I’m missing hours, I’m losing time
But I’m still here between the lines
I don’t remember what I became
But I still answer to my name
If I’m the storm, then let it rain
I’ve lived through worse than all this pain
I wake up whole then come undone
But I survive—I’m not just one
Outro (soft, fading)
If I’m not me…
Then who is?
If I’m still here…
Then I exist.
Suno Link To This Very song listed above of interested I know not everyone clocks outside links and that's fine I'm putting it here anyways. You can look it up from my name on Suno VoidinTime on app or the Suno.com website if you don't wanna use my links.
https://suno.com/s/gM3ctHsGCFJYALaq
VoidinTime journal Entry # 7_?23:45 Jun 10 2026
Times Read: 577
Journal Entry #7: The Things That Watch From Between
I turned thirty-seven this year.
An odd age.
Not old enough to be ancient. Not young enough to pretend eternity is waiting patiently around the corner.
Just old enough to notice things.
The way flowers bloom with such conviction despite being temporary. The way trees spend decades reaching toward a sky they will never touch. The way foxes vanish into forests as if they were never there at all.
Everything living seems to know a secret.
Everything except us.
Perhaps that is why humanity builds cathedrals, telescopes, microscopes, philosophies, religions, and graveyards. We are trying to solve a riddle the stars refuse to explain.
Some nights I sit awake long after midnight and wonder what existed before the first heartbeat.
Before the first cell divided.
Before oceans learned how to carry life.
Before light itself.
I imagine the universe not as empty, but crowded.
Crowded with things beyond comprehension.
Not monsters.
Something stranger.
Ideas that became reality.
Dreams large enough to become galaxies.
Thoughts so old they have forgotten they were ever thoughts at all.
And somewhere inside this impossible machine of existence, there is me.
A woman sitting alone in a room, staring into darkness and wondering if darkness is staring back.
The frightening thing is not death.
Death feels honest.
Every flower accepts it.
Every wolf accepts it.
Every mountain will eventually accept it.
Death simply waits.
Patient.
Silent.
Certain.
What terrifies me is everything that exists before death.
The unanswered questions.
The locked doors.
The corridors that seem to stretch farther the longer I walk them.
Sometimes life feels less like a road and more like a house.
A vast impossible house.
Rooms hidden inside rooms.
Hallways folding into themselves.
Windows looking out onto places that should not exist.
Doors appearing where there were no doors yesterday.
And somewhere within that structure, something is moving.
Not a creature.
Not exactly.
A presence.
The feeling that there is more beyond the wallpaper of reality.
Something breathing softly behind the world.
Waiting.
Watching.
Listening.
Perhaps it has always been there.
Perhaps every civilization felt it.
The ancient woman tending a fire beneath unfamiliar stars.
The sailor staring into endless black oceans.
The child afraid of the space beneath the bed.
The old man standing beside a fresh grave.
Different centuries.
Same feeling.
The sensation that existence is much larger than our eyes allow us to see.
I think about the deer that pause in forests for reasons invisible to us.
The ravens that gather in silence.
The whales singing to darkness miles beneath the sea.
The mushrooms spreading secret networks beneath entire forests.
Life seems connected by threads too thin for human hands to hold.
Sometimes I wonder if consciousness itself is one of those threads.
Perhaps none of us are truly separate.
Perhaps every joy, every heartbreak, every scream, every prayer, every final breath becomes part of something larger.
A vast unseen ecosystem of memory.
A forest of souls.
A garden of ghosts.
Unreachable.
I find comfort in that.
Not because it offers answers.
Because it doesn't.
The universe remains gloriously indifferent to my questions.
The stars remain silent.
The dead remain silent.
The dark remains silent.
Yet somehow I continue asking.
Maybe that is what it means to be human.
Not knowing.
Never knowing.
Still reaching.
Like roots through stone.
Like branches through storms.
Like a tiny heartbeat echoing through an immeasurable void.
And if something truly does lurk in the farthest reaches of existence...
Beyond the stars.
Beyond death.
Beyond language.
Beyond understanding—
I suspect it is watching us with the same curiosity we reserve for the night sky.
Wondering what strange thing could possibly be looking back.
Hood Brat ~~ VoidinTime Rap on Suno20:48 Jun 10 2026
Times Read: 614
Not goth but give it a listen if you want anyways
https://suno.com/s/z64g59nNrusuXydk
Hood Brat Part 2
Hood Brat: Streets Don't Forget
https://suno.com/s/zFSUpwGkVtPfQzn9
If you do not want to clock theonk for fear of virus trackers or whatever else issues. It is an official app on the Google Play store for free for Android devices.(Not sure if it is available for Iphones or not.) And my Profile can be searched on there directly by you instead of via link clink just search VoidinTime if you decide your interested and this is a safer option for you. Thanks.
I write my own lyrics or songs see info below if interested19:51 Jun 10 2026
Times Read: 635
So, I hand write my own lyrics,
However, I can not sing or play instruments.
So I then type up my own lyrics into Suno AI.
To make it into a song. With a prompt I type up for the sound,music,instruments,BG sounds,vocals,gevra or style, ECT and sing title.
I do NOT MAKE money for these songs and my songs are free to listen to on Suno. I use a free account on Suno. And here is a link to my newest Suno song if you want no pressure to click it if you do not want to.
https://suno.com/s/OVPLkvuYgVKdsebC
Also my Suno artist name is also
VoidinTime
Thank you
VoidInTime — Journal Entry #405:56 Jun 10 2026
Times Read: 691
Another "warning" Personal Mental health/illness journal post.
There are parts of me that don’t live in the present tense.
They don’t arrive like thoughts. They arrive like a sudden change in gravity—subtle at first, then absolute. The room doesn’t change, but my relationship to it does. Light feels different. Sound feels closer than it should. Even silence starts to feel like it has weight.
I’ve learned there are memories that don’t behave like memories. They don’t stay behind me. They move through me. Not as images I can hold, but as bodily knowledge—instant, wordless, older than language. And my body responds before I’ve had the chance to decide who I am in that moment.
It’s strange, the way survival lingers. Not as a story, but as a reflex written into muscle, into breath, into hesitation that doesn’t always belong to now.
There are days I can move through the world almost cleanly. Functional. Present. Even steady. And then there are moments where something invisible tilts, and suddenly I am not only here—I am also elsewhere, somewhere that doesn’t announce itself but still demands to be felt.
I don’t always call it anything anymore when it happens. Naming it used to feel like control. Now I understand naming doesn’t always reach what is already unfolding underneath the surface.
So I do something simpler.
I wait for the wave to pass through without turning it into a fight.
There is a kind of intelligence in the body that remembers what the mind tries to file away. It doesn’t argue. It doesn’t explain. It just reacts—fast, ancient, certain. And I’ve stopped treating that certainty as truth about the present moment.
That distinction matters more than anything else.
Because the present is not what used to happen.
Even when it feels close enough to touch.
Even when it tries to wear the shape of now.
There is still life here, though. That’s the part I don’t want to erase or flatten.
Even in the moments where everything narrows, there is still breath continuing. There is still awareness watching the reaction instead of becoming it completely. There is still something in me that remains able to observe the difference between what is happening and what is remembered.
And sometimes that observation itself feels like light—quiet, strange, not loud or clean, but persistent.
I don’t need the past to disappear for me to stay here.
I just need to keep recognizing which part of me is speaking...
And which part is remembering too loudly.
VoininTime Journal Entry #305:40 Jun 10 2026
Times Read: 696
Let me just start with this with the fact that this entry is mental health/illness related and personal. So, Incase your going to ask me because I have been asked on other platforms due to similar postings...I do NOT have Schizophrenia. Not that there is anything wrong with having Schizophrenia. Thank you.
There are stretches of the day where everything feels slightly misaligned, like my thoughts arrive half a second after the moment they belong to. Not enough to be obvious to anyone else, but enough that I notice it.
I’ve started paying attention to how memory actually behaves, not how I assumed it should. It doesn’t come back in order. It comes back in fragments—sounds first, then feelings, then explanations I didn’t ask for. Sometimes I’ll be doing something simple, like sitting in a waiting room or walking through a store, and something will hit me that doesn’t belong to the present at all. And I have to decide, quickly, whether I’m going to follow it or let it pass.
There’s a version of me that used to trust every thought like it was current information. I don’t do that anymore. Not because the thoughts stopped, but because I started noticing how often they’re just echoes of older states of mind.
Daily life is still daily life. Appointments, waiting, paperwork, conversations that require more energy than they should. I still move through all of it. But I’ve stopped treating every internal reaction as a directive. Some of it is just noise layered over fatigue, over history, over things that already ended but didn’t fully register as ended.
Identity feels less like something I “am” and more like something that gets reconstructed depending on what I’m exposed to that day. Environment matters more than I used to admit. So does stress. So does sleep. There are days where I can feel coherent and stable, and days where I can feel the edges of that coherence loosen without anything external changing much at all.
I’ve been trying not to over-interpret it. Not every shift means something deeper. Some of it is just the body keeping score in ways the mind doesn’t get to translate cleanly.
What’s different now is I don’t immediately try to fix the feeling of being slightly off. I just observe it long enough to know what it is—and what it isn’t.
And I stop there.
[Journal Entry #002 — VoidinTime Log]07:32 Jun 08 2026
Times Read: 796
“Not everything that listens is safe. Not everything that’s silent is empty.”
I’ve noticed how people reveal themselves in small ways first. Not through what they claim to be, but through what they ignore. The ones who respond with care usually don’t announce it loudly or with ego — they just show up consistently, even when there’s nothing to gain.
It makes me think about how rare that actually is.
There’s a strange balance in spaces like this. You can offer something real — a greeting, a bit of attention, a moment of acknowledgment — and it can either land softly or disappear completely. No reaction at all sometimes says more than words do.
Still, I don’t think that means people aren’t listening. I think a lot of them are just… cautious. Or tired. Or waiting to see if something is real before they risk responding to it.
I get that. I feel that...
But I also think small kindness doesn’t need permission. It just needs to exist.
So I guess I’m still here doing that — showing up in small ways, watching what echoes back.
If you’re reading this, I’m curious:
Do you think people change because they were helped… or because someone finally treated them like they already mattered?
Also a thank you to Adain, who spreads kindness and also activates my brain apparently. Lol.
—
VoidinTime
VOIDINTIME Journal Entry #1 — observing quietly — Date: June 806:18 Jun 08 2026
Times Read: 838
I wasn’t sure what I wanted my first entry here to be, so I’m just going to keep it simple.
I think most spaces like this start with people trying to present themselves in a way they think will be accepted. I don’t really want to do that. I’d rather just exist here as I am and see what happens over time.
I tend to observe people more than I immediately engage. Not because I’m trying to be distant, but because I pay attention to patterns. The way someone communicates over time tells me more than an introduction ever could.
I’m still figuring out what kind of people I naturally connect with in spaces like this. I know what I value—honesty, consistency, and people who don’t feel like they’re performing—but I don’t always know where those people show up until I actually talk to them.
So I guess this is just a starting point.
Nothing complicated. Nothing exaggerated.
Just me, showing up and paying attention.
If you’re reading this, I’m curious—
what do you usually look for when you decide to talk to someone online?
— I notice more than I say.
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COMMENTS
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Adain
21:47 Jun 28 2026
Now, or 30 years from now, your mind will probably feel the same as today, unmoved by time as mortality questions you. I prepare myself by questioning the impact of health upon life, by understanding that it's not to be feared, that all the moments you hold and live are yours and yours alone, not only through your health, yet also through illness.
I understand the things you have mentioned can be worrying. Try not to let them affect the quality of your life. Whatever quality you have, I hope you find the things within your life that make yours a life worth living. And, you can be the strongest version of yourself, within your own suffering.
VoidinTime
23:34 Jun 28 2026
I rise above my past trauma and abuse atleast the emotional part Adain. And thank you for your kind words. I do hope that my desire for knowledge and study causes my brain to remain as it is now at the very least or that it doesn't worsen until much older age when people usually start having said problems. Though as I have no control over when it happens even if I find out if I am more likely to get it sooner or not it won't change the fact that it happens. So, I simply must be at peace with it regardless. I just happen I suppose to be an individual who likes to be very well informed on all things not to hold it above others or anything but just for the act of the "Pursuit of knowledge" itself. I guess and if it pertains to me great. Even better if said knowledge can, by some chance, help someone else whether directly or indirectly someday. So help myself and if possible help others. -shrugs- I try. I really appreciate your comments support and friendship, Adain.