hey.

my name's aeden universe. i make things. sometimes. sometimes music. sometimes poetry. sometimes games.

sometimes.

i'm so tired.

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posted by aeden universe on thursday, march 11, 2026 at 17:11 PM

about i wanna say 12 or so years ago, i was in this art gallery, and by the reception they had this big shelf of books.

i had already gone through the gallery, and was just waiting for the word to go back to the car and go home, but it was taking a bit. so i grabbed a book and started flipping through it.

it's been 12 years, which in aeden universe time is more like 36 or so years, so my memory fails more than it ties.

i think the book was about a woman. from a woman. the kind of woman who'd have paris memorabilia without having ever gone there. the kind of book that isn't really a poetry book, but is

so freeform and scattershot that there isn't much better a way to describe it.

i stop in one page where the pattern formed by the words grabs my eye. it's too ordered to be natural language, but has too intricate a repetition to not be.

the page had a picture. i believe of the author. if my memory serves me right, which it never does, it was a double, triple, nth exposure of them facing different directions, forming a

ghostly image of sorts. the text was titled "DAY 3"

until now everything i mentioned had a high chance of being wrong. this i know is mostly, if not completely, right.

the text read:

Today I learned it's only when you're still that you can noti
ce the movement. It's only when you're still that you can not
ice the movement. It's only when you're still that you can no
tice the movement. It's only when you're still that you can n
otice the movement. It's only when you're still that you can 
notice the movement. It's only when you're still that you can
 notice the movement. It's only when you're still that you ca
n notice the movement. It's only when you're still that you c
an notice the movement. It's only when you're still that you 
can notice the movement. It's only when you're still that you
 can notice the movement. It's only when you're still that yo
u can notice the movement. It's only when you're still that y
ou can notice the movement. It's only when you're still that 
you can notice the movement. It's only when you're still that
 you can notice the movement. It's only when you're still tha
t you can notice the movement. It's only when you're still th
at you can notice the movement. It's only when you're still t
hat you can notice the movement. It's only when you're still 
that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're still
 that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're stil
l that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're sti
ll that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're st
ill that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're s
till that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're 
still that you can notice the movement. It's only when you're
 still that you can notice the movement. It's only when you'r
e still that you can notice the movement. It's only when you'
re still that you can notice the movement. It's only when you
're still that you can notice the movement. It's only when yo
u're still that you can notice the movement. It's only when y
ou're still that you can notice the movement. It's only when 
you're still that you can notice the movement. It's only when
 you're still that you can notice the movement. It's only whe
n you're still that you can notice the movement. It's only wh
en you're still that you can notice the movement. It's only w
hen you're still that you can notice the movement. It's only 
when you're still that you can notice the movement. It's only
 when you're still that you can notice the movement. It's onl
y when you're still that you can notice the movement. It's on
ly when you're still that you can notice the movement. It's o
nly when you're still that you can notice the movement. It's 
only when you're still that you can notice the movement. It's
 only when you're still that you can notice the movement. It'
s only when you're still that you can notice the movement. It
's only when you're still that you can notice the movement. I
t's only when you're still that you can notice the movement.
It's only when you're still that you can notice the movement.

that was 12 or so years ago. by that point, the big bad hadn't happened yet, so my memory wasn't all that scuffed. but there was a bunch of mid-large bad, so it wasn't the greatest either.

i promptly forgot the name of the book. the name of the author. the day it was when i read it. i'll probably never find the book again. all i have is the passage.

sometimes it's hard to explain why something resonates with you. i have a cousin who is a musician denounces all abstract art as a psyop to stop people from talking about politics. i don't

think he realizes music is probably, by far, the most abstract medium there is or ever will be. a chord progression is about as concrete as a purple square. it's just different waves

arriving at your sensory organs and being processed by your brain as qualia. they are both fully inconcrete. the only difference is that, unlike chord progressions, purple squares can

actually exist.

what he's doing is conflating a subjective notion, the fact that he doesn't like abstract paintings, with an objective worldview, the idea that abstract art is inherently meaningless and

as a result can't have the "real" value that a totally-not-abstract-you-guys art form like music has. but the truth is: everything is inherently meaningless. meaning is something that we as

feeling creatures project onto concepts based on how we feel about them.

"You see the wheat fields over there? I don't eat bread. For me, wheat is of no use whatever. Wheat fields say nothing to me. Which is sad. But you have hair the color of gold. So it will

be wonderful, once you've tamed me! The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat..."

you can't just explain the way that an abstract horror piece feels to someone with dissociative post traumatic stress disorder. you can't explain how billie eilish sounds to a teenage girl

going through a breakup. you can't explain what a weekly minecraft server hangout feels like to someone with depression, and you can't explain what visual poetry feels like to an aeden universe.

i wish i could.

i feel lonely in this poem. i'm not the one who's written it, so i can't publish it, but i don't know who published it, so i can't find it. it seems to currently exist in a sort of limbo.

in my head, nowhere else. nowhere else. nowhere else. nowhere.

i'm an obsessive person. enough to cause me distress. the kind to spend a year making a game not because you enjoy doing it or because you want to, but because you can't not do it. the kind

to release a game you lost a year of your 20s working on for free. the kind to denounce programming as fully not for them. and the kind to open up godot the next morning to do it all over

again.

i thought about this poem maybe thousands of times since i first read it. and i just can't grasp how it makes me feel. it sits in my looping internal vocabulary together with an aggressive

"then maybe you shouldn't" and "nothing matters, so i don't wanna know why. i don't matter so i might as well die". but the first quote i just thought about one day so i know exactly what

it's meant to mean. and the second is from a mattias pillhede video i'm well familiar with and know the symbolism of. but this poem. it's all i have. i don't have the rest of the body of

work to analyze it against. i don't have the rest of the book. i don't have anything. that was 12 or so years ago, and i'm even more clueless now than i was back then. is it about trauma?

depression? nostalgia? literally trying to stand still and noticing that your body moves around slightly? i don't know. i have no idea. all i know is that it stuck to me like a ghost with

unfinished business. "decrypt me". "analyze me". "understand me". i can't. i don't have your context. "decrypt me". "analyze me". "understand me". i don't know anything about you.

"decrypt me". "analyze me". "understand me". i just don't know how. forever. that was 12 or so years ago. forever.

i'm an obsessive person. enough to cause distress. and for a long time i had fantasized about reaching out to one of the people who did the bad to me and letting them know everything. yeah,

just let it all bare to them. remember when you made fun of me for self-diagnosing? well darling i have gone through THOROUGH medical examination by multiple respected doctors and they have

all written a full report in which they formally diagnose me with everything i said, plus a bunch of fun new conditions which YOU have given me. i take meds for what you did to me, honey.

and the meds i take are not strong enough. and i'll probably take them until i die. i can't hold my job, love. because i feel so much anxiety from the concept of someone having control over

me that it doesn't matter my boss is really nice and understanding, i can't do my full shift without a panic attack. you ruined my life, sugar. you ruined it forever. and out of the little

few things that give me a faint fleeting sense of joy, one of those is the thought of letting you know how no matter what you do, there will always be blood on your hands, and if there is

a god, you better pray to it that there isn't also a hell because after what you've done nothing short of becoming the second coming of christ will save you from it.

one day i did.

back when twitter was still a thing, i found one of their accounts.

they had transitioned since then. new name. new pronouns. same person. same awful monster as before.

i messaged them. wrote it like a punch to the face. phrased it with all the rage i could muster. channelled my inner poet as fiercely as i could. i wanted it to hurt. with a percentile

of how much they hurt me.

and they replied. following is a paraphrase.

"i'm sorry i made you feel that way. i don't remember you, but it doesn't excuse. i was a stupid teenager who didn't know any better. if there's anything i can do to soften the pain,

let me know and i'll do it. i'm sorry."

i never replied.

it was them, but...

"i don't remember you".

different name. different pronouns. different decade. they don't remember me.

the person i hated shared a life with the one i found. shared a date of birth. shared a mother and a father. shared a pair of eyes and a brain. shared a soul.

but it wasn't them.

i was chasing essentially a dead person all this time.

they had grown. all of them.

accounts deleted. names changed. in college. married. with a podcast. in a different country. human rights activists, game developers, poets. they had grown. all of them.

all of them.

i stayed.

i couldn't grow. i still can't. stuck 10 - exactly 10 - years ago. when it all happened. i wanted to be a storytime animator. i still do. i wanted to make an undertale fangame, and i still

do. i wanted to have a first kiss, and learn how to skateboard, and have my first sleepover. and i still do.

i never grew up. i'm still stuck with the same old poem in my head. with the same dreams as always. but my body is now older. my body needs a job or it'll get kicked out of the house. my

body needs a doctor or it'll decay even quicker than it already is. my body has aged. it's old now. not old by the standards of the species - that's not happening until 40 or so years from

now, if i live that long. no. it's old in comparison to the frozen kid attached to it. when i think of how old i am there's still always a good half second where i think, without a shadow

of a doubt, that i'm 13 years old. only then i quickly realize i'm actually in my 20s and rush to stop myself from saying i'm 13 before i accidentally get put into some sort of list.

it's still the winter of 2016 in my head. i'm still listening to spanish sahara and breezeblocks while looking up from the atrium connected to my room. i have watched storytime animation

slowly die in my arms, leaving only the largest and most popular creators behind, while pannicking because i could never make a storytime animation channel. i have watched in real time as

i grew too old for sleepovers, pannicking because i never had one. i'm watching, to this day, as everything morphs around me. slowly enough that i could grab it, if only i weren't frozen in

time.

i talk about this with people, but nobody who doesn't have trauma understands me. they're accustomed to the changes, because they can change too. you don't notice that the earth is whizzing

through space, rotating at insane speeds, because you're whizzing and rotating together with the earth. it's only when the world leaves you behind that you realize how fast it's going.

it's only when you're still that you can notice the movement.

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posted by aeden universe on wednesday, march 11, 2016 at 06:11 PM

sometimes the worst part of trauma isn't remembering what happened, but remembering the life you lived before it. knowing that you didn't see it coming and you can never live that way again.

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posted by aeden universe on tuesday, march 3, 2026 at 08:51 PM

it occurs to me hope has hurt me more than hopelessness. love has hurt me more than lovelessness. how deep is it in our nature to gamble? i certainly don't gamble in the traditional sense because i recognize the mathematical flaws in doing it. but is my predisposition to recognize these patterns hurting me in other areas?

in other words: if i didn't think looking for love was a fool's errand for someone like me, would i have found someone? and if not, would the lack of the wiring that keeps me from gambling keep me from noticing i wasn't making any progress, allowing me to be happy?

and is it ethical to gamble with not only your feelings, but with someone else's? obviously the species would within 1 generation die out if we all decided so, but to which extent do my choices reverberate outwards into the species, and to which extent do the choices of the species reverberate inwards into me? my vow of celibacy in order to keep others from heartbreak is certainly not very meaningful in the great expanse of humanity, but so is a single vote not very meaningful to an election.

the answer to "should i seek love" seems to be so obvioulsly "YES!!!!", but in true aeden universe fashion i have managed to corner myself between the walls of insecurity and morality anyway.

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posted by aeden universe on monday, march 2, 2026 at 01:08 PM

tit's getting kinda late. and when it's late i start having my unstable thoughts. sometimes i feel like i'm going through life raw. like, you know how sometimes people will describe wearing a mask or building a wall around them or whatever? i feel like the opposite of that. if people sometimes put on a face it feels like mine was taken out. like my skin got ripped off my face and i'm going through life nerve and muscle first. like everything i feel, i feel the most intense possible version of it. there was this little app i used to be on called slowly. it's like a messaging app but meant to feel like exchanging letters. so each message was meant to be pretty long and then it takes days to arrive. it's meant to give you this nice little thing to look forward to. but inside my head this "nice little thing to look forward to" got translated into crushing, unforgiving anxiety attacks. i deleted the app since then - not through its own fault, but the feelings still stand. whenever i feel a reflection of a glimmer of hope it's as if i'm hearing the voice of god itself. and whenever i feel a penumbra of the shadow of disappointment it's as if i'm hearing its laughter. i'm tired of being ecstatic and fuming and despaired. i wanna be content, and peeved, and disencouraged. i can't handle all these extremes anymore. they're too much. i'm not asking for a mountain over here, quite the opposite. i don't wanna be happy all the time or love everything. i don't wanna be flawless - that's exactly what i'm going against. i wanna live a tamer, less notable life. i wanna just sit and do my own thing and have good and bad days instead of the heaven and hell i'm living in. i don't wanna be perfect. i wanna be ok.

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posted by aeden universe on saturday, september 27, 2025 at 18:17 PM

i've wanted to start a storytime animation channel for 10 years now, and haven't managed to do so.

started countless times but never managed to stick to it. depression's a bitch and executive dysfunction is worse

i'd say i'm starting for good now, but i said it before many times. all i can do is hope now

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posted by aeden universe on saturday, june 21, 2025 at 11:42 PM

this is mostly a test for how images look like but also i finished chapter 3

thanks raul

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posted by aeden universe on thursday, june 5, 2025 at 04:30 PM

my disability check comes only on the 10th. i am now accepting deltarune as a gift for all i've gone through

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posted by aeden universe on tuesday, june 3, 2025 at 07:48 AM

welcome to this hour's episode of "maybe this bullshit will be the one that works"!

hint: no! nothing works! nothing ever works! you will die after 2 weeks of begging for help after being tied to train tracks. nobody can hear you. nobody cares. don't struggle. it'll make it worse.

that's it for this episode, folks! stay in the line for our show that just won't get cancelled, "looking for joy in a universe that is not indifferent, but actually just straight up fucking hates you"!

see you whenever this dipshit thinks they can do something next time! i hear it wants to make a webseries... surely that'll work out great!

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posted by aeden universe on thursday, may 22, 2025 at 10:43 PM

everything's too much too often

and i feel like i can't do anything without breaking down

even this is too much

so i won't bother with a complete entry.

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posted by aeden universe on wednesday, may 21, 2025 at 10:00 PM

for about 2-3 years now, i've had a minecraft server. i'm on it all the time, often using it as a game design playground instead of just playing survival.

it's got a lot of stuff: a special item system, custom recipes, custom mobs, custom blocks, custom biomes...

...custom players...

it's always felt like a missed opportunity that i never showcased the content anywhere - most people think it's just a normal minecraft server... they have no idea just how deep it goes. but it occurs to me:

i can use this blog to showcase stuff! maybe upload some short guides to youtube, and repost them here. could be fun?

as usual, don't count on me keeping a promise. but i think it'd be neat

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posted by aeden universe on sunday, may 18, 2025 at 02:04 PM

recently - that is, for the past couple years -, i've been considering changing the name of my art project, findaeden.

"findaeden" originally started as just a username for me, back in 2019 when my full name was just aeden. i needed to sign up for a bandcamp, and it was taken. i chose it because # was the most recent thing i had made, and it was the beginning of the more solid parts of findaeden today.

that's why i haven't changed it yet, really. "findaeden" kind of suits the project, especially considering one of the most important characters from it. but the "aeden" part has bothered me for pretty much the whole road after the first year or so.

findaeden isn't *really* about me. yes, all art is inevitably about its creator, but the story i'm trying to tell is much more of an ourobouros. fractals upon fractals of windows within doors shrouded in dark and darker darkness. keeping the aeden feels like the ourobouros is just kinda eating at its body sideways, leaving the tail out. 6 instead of O.

i want something that brings emphasis to its characters. to its themes. to its ~vibe~.

maybe something about the girls?

maybe some sort of reference to a vanishingly small artist?

maybe something about suspension of disbelief?

maybe...

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posted by aeden universe on monday, may 12, 2025 at 9:16 AM

May 11 2025--that was the date I created this blog.
May 12 2025--this is today's date. Otherwise known as the date of the birth of the first blog post. Exciting much? Yeah, not really....

I won't mind giving my actual name. I am aeden universe. And this blog is like....a journal, if you may, about my life. I chose this "name" as a representation of what I feel I am....a piece indistinguishable from universe itself. Sounds sort of like a cliché, I guess. But oh well...
You may notice I rarely do this to some of my words. I'm not sure why I don't do that, I find it more intresting this way, but there's something that feels wrong about me formatting text like that. Especially since I trend to write a lot, it may get BORING to read all these words on and on.

A few things you should know about me: I am agender. I wanted to make my name eden universe but I felt the "eden" was getting too...mispronounced. I'm just a guy. I'm 22. I'm a college student, in theory. I'm a writer ( I write poetry and fictional stories. Maily Sci-Fi, Terror/ghost stories, and weird stories that could only come from a twisted-minded person such as myself...). I am also an ARTIST. I enjoy programming and animation.
I'm learning japanese on and off. I'm really into it. If anyone can speak and write the language please contact me! I would love to have someone who speaks japanese as a friend! (I sound like such a desperate, lonley person) -___- 
 If your japanese, do you listen to Show Luo or Rainie Yang???? I never heard of them! If you don't know who they are....SAME!

Lastly,  I dont expect anyone to read this...this blog is just for me. I'm not sure why I had to create this brief bio of myself. If anyone is intrested in reading a blog about a peculiar rando that uses a blog as a sort of journal to get through its deranged life...feel free to read on.  Ok, that wraps up the first blog post. Let's see how this  "blogging idea" goes, because I haven't been able to keep a diary/journal before. I get bored with it. I also loose some diaries...sometimes on purpose. I toss it in mud...at least I thought it was mud... O.o
And I enjoyed tossing it's pages down the toilet...Adios diary!
I also get worried that someone might find it and read it. So I'm not that tustworthy with writing down my thoughts on paper. But then again...this is a blog. Hundreds or dozens of people can see this.... oh well. I'll keep it discreet. I will spill all my guts onto this blog while substituting names and all that. No one will know who I am........or will they? Dun Dun Dun! <-- they will (i told you before).

k,Bye
--aeden universe

PS: My favorite word is idiosyncracy!!! XD

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posted by aeden universe on monday, may 12, 2025 at 9:05 AM

i always felt the hardest part of any project is just, starting out, you know?