Calypso King
Bio
I'm a 20-year-old freelance graphic designer. I love reading, writing, mythology, cooking, and sewing. I write about anything and everything. From life experiences to fiction or something that the depth of my mind produces.
Stories (7)
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Restless
There are times when I get like this. Completely bored out of my mind and a longing for freedom? I guess? I'm not entirely sure what it is, but I do know it bothers the hell out of me. The abosolute hell that is this restlessness is a feeling that lingers for hours. It makes me unable to relax and makes all types of anxiety pop up. Like what my coworkers think of me when I felt I asked a dumb question. How they must talk of me behind my back, how they don't love me as I do them. Everything that is a small problem suddenly turns into a big problem. I'm just tired and bored and I can't fucking type right. Everything gets to be too much. I wish it could all be better. To take my medication that I can't figure out how to get. But I wonder how it'll affect me this late in the game. I just don't want to spiral again. Down into that deep rabbit hole that drags me into the very depths of hell. When I'm like this everything puts me on edge. I don't like bugs some I don't mind others make me unease. Right now merely seeing a moth fly around in my space was enough to send me into a freak out. I can feel the paranoia scratching up my skin. Crawling its way into my feel so it settles in my very bones. Every fluttering sound, every rub of fabric sends me down further. I don't know what noises to trust or what to do or who to go to. In these situations I have no one. No one to give me the same courtesy of the comfort I always willingly provide. I don't do it for their gratitude or for them to pay me back, but because I don't want them as alone as I was. I just need a distraction so the itch will stop. Writing is helping a bit, but I can still feel the claws digging into the nape of my neck. I want to call someone anyone to unlatch the claws to stop the poison from spreading. But currently, I have no one. No one who will listen. He will be busy or tired is what I'm telling myself. "He'll be confused and make fun of you like the others he has no need to care for you. You've only known him for two months!" Everything screams at me. But the tiny hope at the bottome of Pandora's box askes me, "but what if he does? What if you are to him as he his to you? His family, his little sister? What if he too wants to know if his sibling is ok? Blood related or not. Friends or just coworkers. The care is still there, is it not?" But the war of guilt and doubt is still waging heavily on in the background. There's always something. The restlessness invites all these feelings in and never allows them to leave. Everything just hurts so bad. I want it to go away to take my pills and make it go away. But I have work tomorrow morning. With my job I have to be in top mental and physical condition. I can't allow my pills to get in the way of that. Ha, I'm just living off false hopes and ideologies right now. Everything will go away on its own after tormenting me for a couple of hours. I wish I could take a walk but I'm not allowed to be out this late unless its for a reason like getting food.
By Calypso King 3 years ago in Psyche
Tom Cat
Vivid green eyes open slowly. The big talking box is on at a low hum. Standing up and stretching, the eyes take in the site before them. The human kitten is curled up water dripping from her eyes and staining her furless cheeks. Ah, it's one of those nights. It wasn't often Thomas found his littermate curled up in tears, but when he did, he always tried his best to make her forget. He heard the rest of his girls talking about it. Something about her mate having internal bleeding? Leaning out and stretching again with a yawn, he hopped on the top of the couch and started batting at the dangling feathers the human kitten told him not to touch. Sniffling, she turned towards him with a watery smile. "Thomas," she cooed softly, "bad boy you know you're not supposed to touch my dream catcher." Normally, he'd be offended at being called such a thing, but he knew she meant it in jest. He'd do a thousand bad things, be called a bad boy for all eternity if it made his human smile. Now distracted from her tears, his human fussed and cooed at his "cute" behavior. Good. She's smiling again. Job now done, he hopped off the couch ignoring her whine for more playtime and went to check on his youngest human kitten.
By Calypso King 3 years ago in Petlife
Love
Growing up the way I did, in a broken home with nothing but fear, few happy memories, and disorders, I grew up starved of everything. I was distanced from my peers and sometimes my own family. I didn't really make connections with anyone while everyone else seemed to click together. Whenever I met someone that was nice to me, I instantly latched on to them. I was just completely craving and chasing the love I wanted. It's not like my parents don't love me they do. It's just they're parenting styles, the cycle of abuse, the stress, their health, all of that took a toll on them to the point where they took it out on us. My mom more than my dad. At least my dad would have a reason like, we didn't clean something right or someone like my mom or grandma would yell at him to yell at us. But mother would do it just because she could. Of course, that doesn't excuse neither of their behavior but back to the matter at hand. I was just so desperate for that connect I was deprived of I would latch on to that bit of kindness I was shown.
By Calypso King 3 years ago in Confessions
Terror
There's fear in everything. Some fear things people would call nothing. Like butterflies. (Those things are really ugly up close though. We've all seen that one SpongeBob episode with Wormy.) Others fear what people would call more. Like death and surgery. But when it comes right down to it it's all just fear. Of course, there's that sickening type of fear. The one that never goes away, the one that follows you everywhere no matter what you do. I'm talking about terror. Pure unadulterated terror. Like fear, terror can be derived from many things. Bugs, the ocean, animals, flowers, and well people. People like the strangers on the street. It could be the woman you passed by today. Later you could find that after a short conversation with her, she got arrested for butchering her people in her basement. You'll always wonder if you would have been next. That type of fear could follow you everywhere.
By Calypso King 3 years ago in Confessions
Creation Myth
Long ago before the world was new lived nothing in the realm between worlds. There was the realm of Gods and all things of life then there was the realm of Death, and all its creatures. But the two realms grew bored. There was nothing dying because the Gods were everlasting, and there was nothing growing because everyone stopped growing. The creation of life only happened ever so often since nothing ever died. The Gods grew restless "Nothing ever changes!" They cried. "No one ever dies!" Death howled. So, the creatures of Death and the Gods formed an idea. They would make life that wasn't everlasting! Something that died! Something with a lifespan, an end goal! But no matter what they did, no matter how they combine their powers nothing worked. The life bringers and Death courters decided to use all the people in their respective realms to do this one task. In the end, all of their energy was spent but they had done it. They created life! Joyous cheer rang all throughout the realms. "We have done it!" They cried. "We have created harmony between life and death!" Life and Death put their new, bright, small, creations in the realm between theirs. What was once dark, hollow, and empty where everyone feared to tread was now filled with tiny balls of life. "Stars, we shall call them stars." Death whispered. The Gods now had something new to fawn over and Death got many new followers in their kingdom. Finally, all was right in the world. Until it wasn't. There's something wrong with the stars. Usually when a star died, they just exploded and turned to dust. But something was...different about this one. It was hot and unstable like the very magic used to form it was corrupt and angry. Both life and death watched as their creation sputtered, spit, and spattered until it exploded, releasing all its fiery rage. When the heat died down everyone gasped in amazement. This was something entirely new. Their new star was bigger than the previous ones. Instead of the neat white light of the past it was now a wild blaze that seemed to overwhelm all that looked at it. The Gods were whispering amongst themselves. "Is it safe? It's new. Something we did not create." After a bit of discussion, everyone decided to live the new beings be. They watched the newly dubbed Red Giants play and jump around with glee. No longer were their creations stationary for they jumped across the cosmos. Spreading their wildfire wherever they could. Of course, soon this proved to be a problem. "Their fires burn too much for us! Put them out!" Death's creatures hissed. "They burn just fine make them brighter!" Life's creations cried. The Gods and Death's children would soon go to war if something didn't give. The Gods huffed and grumbled but figured out a way to make everyone happy. From the dust of previous stars Star-Catchers were formed. Made of sparkling, glittering star dust were tiny beings that were made to serve and ride the wildfires of the Red Giants. Because these Catchers rode the fires the no longer burned everything they touched. Death was happy they no longer burned, and the Gods got to watch their creations proser and settle into new slots in the skies. But more problems were yet to come. One day a particularly rowdy Red Giant decided it didn't like being tied down and told where to settle. So, he raced across the skies! Sending the Star-Catchers blazing as it went! Zigging this way and that way until it tore a hole in the sky itself exploding and taking the Star-Catchers with it. The Death courters named this new creation, a Black Hole. For the very blank and emptiness it brought and the lives it took with it.
By Calypso King 3 years ago in Fiction
Sewing
They met in kindergarten. Seph and Rhea were quite the pair. They were inseparable as they were different but exactly the same. The boy, Seph, was trouble prone so Rhea often spent her time lecturing and caring for him which always seemed to include sewing up his clothes.
By Calypso King 3 years ago in Humans
