What?

The tagline up there is not enough for you? Well, you’re in for a longer read then. But don’t worry, it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes of your life. And I’ll try my best to put your time to good use.

There was a brief summary of another description here when this whole thing started. It wasn’t that badly written. It wasn’t even a lie. But it was not completely sincere either, though I didn’t know it back then.

I meant this blog to be a public platform for working on a short story writing project. Only now I can finally appreciate what it really was back then: a call for attention, as desperate as it was futile. I was trying to make someone listen to me, to appreciate what I am. Too bad I hardly knew what I was and what I wanted to say. How could I expect anyone to respond the way my wounded mind craved?

Confusing? Bear with me. We’re getting there, we just need a bit of context. Back in 2016, weird things started happening to me. It wasn’t getting any better as 2017 came. I knew I was going to be dead soon. Strangely enough, I kept on living. The key to solving this puzzle was to realise my mind was the problem.

At some point of time, I must have become mad for reasons I am still trying to nail down. More specifically, I’ve got nasty breeds of two mental bugs that often do their mischief together. They go by many names, but people mostly call them anxiety and depression these days. My personal flavour came with an obsessive emphasis on death and dying. I have never got any of that officially diagnosed but I don’t think my self-assessment is too wrong. You can see for yourself on this blog.

Of course, trudging on without any professional help was not very smart. Not talking to anyone at all for over a year was even worse. Yes, I was being stupid. Then again, things like that apparently tend to be part of the package.

Anyway, since early 2018 I’ve been learning how to make myself a little bit less mad. On a daily basis, one can get along, more or less, by tricking the mind when it misbehaves. It is also possible to forget about the mind completely, though I still find that hard to manage. Moreover, all these things are not a cure. They are like morphine, maybe minus the addiction. They let me deal with the pain but have no power over its source.

The real healing only started when I decided to tear my self apart, piece by piece. Most of the prickly things I’ve been dragging out scream and spew muck of self-deception all over me. Yet all that dirt melts away surprisingly fast when one looks at it up close. It hurts, of course. But not doing it would hurt more in the long run. That much I know already.

An important part of the healing process was talking about my madness. I still have a lot to learn in that respect, I’m afraid. But writing seems easier, which is why I decided to resurrect this corpse of a web page.

Other things snowball on it, but the main idea of this space is to put the story of my madness into a clear-cut shape. I suspect there are still many mysteries to solve and learn from, for me and anyone else who feels like that. Whatever has been happening to me is not as unique as I rather foolishly thought after all.

So what exactly will you find here? This:

  1. Gruesome Recollections are analysing especially juicy bouts of my madness. Expect these posts to be brutal, honest and fun, in a rather weird sense of that word. Or at least that’s the general idea.
  2. This blog is not the only type of writing spawned by my madness. For reasons that are still not completely clear to me, I’ve had a strong urge to write fiction lately. Sometimes there are even limping bits of poetry. Samples are provided here under the Dubious Scribblings category.
  3. Creative Dissections offer assorted observations on the writing process. There may even be advice on various things that have worked for me. Or rather those that have not. Be warned, though. I could be considered expert in a thing or two, but giving writing advice is most certainly not one of them.
  4. From time to time, I indulge in Speculative Rants on whatever feels like getting out of my mind and soiling these pages some more. In other words, these are ramblings on the world, creatures in it, the universe, everything and probably nothing after all.
  5. Pretentious Announcements are, well, announcements of stuff I consider important to share here.

Last but not least, a treat for those who have made it this far and wonder what’s the matter with the name, Oceanic Soup. It was quite fitting for the previous idea of the whole space. Now it admittedly makes less sense. But one can still play with the meanings and find something suitable. It could go like this:

  • Oceanic because merry ripples on the surface of people’s mind may mean nothing about what’s going on below. A battle between clammy currents of madness and fresh streams of sanity could be raging underneath and no one will ever know until it’s over, for better or worse.
    • Oceanic because ocean is the well of creation, and thus, by inference, a spring of creativity.
      • Maybe I’m also obsessed about all things oceanic. Especially metaphors.
        • Or…
  • Soup because it’s all just assorted crap mixed together in a delusional hope that something tasty may come out of it.

To be absolutely honest, though, the most important thing about the name is this: I have already payed quite some money for the domain and the WordPress plan that goes with it. So I’d better keep using it no matter what.