(COLORED TEXT EXPLAINED) An Exploration by the Sea; An Untired Memorandum

12 Nov, 2025

This post has been flagged as "C.B.I" and while everything is indeed real, please watch your step and wade through the prose carefully. Any post tagged as "C.B.I" or "magic" should technically not exist in this blog, but they have propped up regardless. We apologize for increasing the difficulty level. To add, there will be mentions of suicide, messy childhoods, and generally everything else. And as always, this is not for show, this is to show how one can reflect, grow, change, and keep going, and on how to stay here. Please take care of yourselves.

Before I begin, a strange message arrived in my inbox. I am unsure what it means, but I will share it, also this message embedded some HTML, for some reason it wants to make the title of this blog in purple.

An Exploration by the Sea; An Untired Memorandum

Hm this post also seems to have lots of "magic?" within it. This whole blog is supposed to be nothing but reality, and even if magic is reality too, an embellishment, I did not expect these obfuscations to reach this blog. I did not author this right?

For those who do not understand, or will be rightfully confused! take this little thing as a silly story, this blog is the one which carries true reality, but at the same time leakages exist, and there are times when something? converges? This helps me heal! for as peculiar as it may seem...

I am unsure but anyways this is what the message said:

Now I found this message perplexing as stated before.

I ask myself...how and who sent it to me? If I were to think by the statement alone, it sounds like this blog itself sent it, but that would be quite improbable.

I also find its statements rather gaudy? There is no such need for "grand entrances." I do not think so highly of myself that I would need to be "treated" in such a regard. We are all equal! How strange isn't it?

It's like a S.A.S.E, self addressed stamped envelope, typically in legal matters. Oh I forgot to mention the nontraditional method of its arrival. I may have said it came to me via "email." but that is only partially true.

Songs of the night: Life is Strange OST, starting with the menu theme! The words paved upon this page were written with the intent for it to be heard, but it is no requirement.

I have dreams of the ocean every day and night, of the purity of untouched water, of kayaking once more, of my pale skin enjoying sunlight again. These dreams are also nightmares, as I ravage my head and try to hold myself, even that feels like too much still.

I'm easing up, just a little, and I've been wanting to compose again too; it's been what feels like a lifetime. My hands are always ready to play my piano again, always eager and wistful, carrying with it a silent breeze, just like it was back then.

I close my eyes and there is something unheard of at my feet, a message in a bottle.

This is purely metaphorical of course but within that bottle contained that message above, almost as if trying to write a story of its own, of a different me.

Or perhaps, yes, it is still me, but...different.

I am monitoring every channel, every string, every sunset, and every seagull. This may sound similar to the game "Umineko" for those who are aware of it, but it is much more than that. It is my own story, woven using milk cotton and with reminders and notes from an incredibly dark time, to everything I remembered, and carry within me, to my dreams and my subsequent realizations of them, forever.

This "message in a bottle" brings me back to now, to the explorations I take in my head, of what I would consider my hometown? Remember, this is in name and time spent alone, I am still finding home.

Before I continue however, I would like to issue an important statement.

This applies only to my blogs and messages, not to any videos produced unless otherwise stated.

I would like to discuss the colored text a little further.

In this blog, there may exist future, unheard of instances of the text, but one could consider these spillages of my past. It may seem a little...silly, but that's the point, to always be silly!

Let's go over them.

• There exists no additional meaning behind different shades of a color unless otherwise stated. Red text is simple, it is the truth and nothing but the truth. It is absolute. It may be employed when I need to tell myself the truth over and over..

• It does not have to be done. Blue text in Umineko is used to argue against the existence of the witch. However when used in these blogs, the meaning is entirely different. It will not be given away. [ORDERS FROM THE GRAND CONSTRUCT]

• Seen through a sponge dock and scratch marks. My eyes reflected the seabed, and my heart reflected the ocean. Purple text indicates the same weight as a red, blue, or gold text, but may contain upwards of 1 million meanings and recollections hidden within it. For example, the words could be rearranged sometimes intentionally for a different meaning, or each fragment of a word may contain such recollection that it may provide an answer to something hard to parse. The key factor is this: Purple text is home.

• To stained walls and Unshuttered Windows Gold text in Umineko holds the same weight as a red or blue truth, but depending on certain factors like resolve, it can be even more powerful or weaker. In this case it has nothing to do with that. The gold text meaning must be gleaned through evidence.

• Hamtaro is so lovely. Gradients can blend meanings together. For example, this one employs the red text as the truth that Hamtaro is lovely, but also contains the blue text.

• See the warning at the top. Pink text is only used when inside the C.B.I Sanctum, this blog. It is to warn that a post may use significant distance, prose, or obfuscation techniques to further the story of C.B.I as well. This blog is only supposed to be for pure reality, but Victoria uses these stories as a way to communicate regardless. Also, there will be a huge increase of the colored text in any post tagged with the pink warning on the top of the page. To reiterate, None of this is purely viewed as a game whatsoever. There is a reason for all of this.

• Humming a forgotten cloud gazer's tune, we laid together, kids back then, before she was taken away, but back then the driveway felt like home, when did it end? Black Hidden Text, employed incredibly rarely, but the only way to see it is via highlighting. These may lead to spoken/unspoken words. If you notice strange gaps, attempt to highlight if one wants to. Do note that the black text will however show up quite commonly in any post labeled as "C.B.I" by the pink text.

Also please note that every instance where the text would apply, it may not always show up...!

and uhm to those even more confused, you may take this all as the ramblings of an autistic girl! This cannot be "Seen" without knowledge, the blog is a place to catalogue my memories after all, and to do that would require something distant in my case, such as using colored text to feel the weight of something...also...using these techniques, akin to obfuscation, it helps the distance of everything feel..sweet? how can i describe it...? i am diffident. but what i do know is that it helps me feel safe, it helps me move forward, and it helps me reach the ideal; home. These techniques aid me in my road to recovery, and grows my prose too <3.

Ah !!! but let me get started!!! sorry guys!!! I was thinking about the seaside tonight...

Today I took my (AP) Angelic Princess to the vet, she was very lovely, adorable and proper, trained by yours truly to be the bestest angel ever.

While I was there however, I brought my magic book with me. I've had this bag for a while but it is so cute. I love the indie brand Morning Glory...awesome lolita bags...I've got a cute piano one too!

Nevertheless, I wanted to just add that my puppy kitty Sadie performed admirably. When we got home, I gave her a little space as she needed it after the vet visit, got a milkshake, then came back and we cuddled for about an hour. I had fallen asleep cradling her with my skirt and warmth, to which she purred happily...

I then fell asleep myself...awaking two hours later.

Still, when does the post begin? I should start now!

Safety on every wall; Attempts to Break Free

I once tried to deny myself safety upon moving here. But I have taken note of that fact since...just now? "Have you ever watched a slow thaw come around?"

because I have, time and time again, immemorial.

"Will I be able to love this happiness completely and earnestly?"

A reminder from the Golden Hamster: Several songs may be quoted for a purpose, the full songs are all integral.

We stood, gathered around the graveyard, it was only Summer, but it wasn't Florida. Ergo, there was a slow thaw coming in through the air, chilly on occasion, warm on some other.

I believe we were not too far from the sea. It was Summer, but also about to be Fall. All over, it was still green, but those hints of Orange remained.

It was not the first time I was out of state, nor the longest, but it felt the most memorable.

Was it good?

I am still trying to think about it.

I remember taking my camera down by the water, my most, most precious gift, no, the most precious gift I have ever received in my entire life...so so precious, it felt too good to be true, why I asked, why was he so nice to me then? Did he realize how awful he was..?

That little camera took me everywhere. It took me to forests, to photography class from my own home, to my little field trips, to rivers, oceans, and creeks. The nicest gift...? ever?

Right..

Why would I have ever thought about killing myself like that, in such a violent, grotesque way, and why did I think about it every day?

Of course I know why.

I just wanted to, maybe, mm...I don't know.

I was surprised once too. That a long time ago now someone once close? to me tried to kill themself in the same way, I remember hearing about it back around late 2023. I had known this person since 2021, but in terms of the weight and scale of it, it was forever ago.

But there was a truth buried between those pages.

Something which immolated me, and hurt me, and battered me. Somewhere by the seaside where I never got to go.

I hate to admit it but I am crying pretty badly right now. I need to see that sunset again, like I used to almost every week. I need to go back, and I will, it's not far off from my old old house, the one with the pale geometry.

There's so much forgotten there, so, much, I don't want it to sit forever, unattended by me. i don't want the swingset that overlooked the sunset to forget me...why would i ever think of doing something so cruel, just to join the ocean again? why do i still, sometimes think about doing it? it's human, it is natural, even if i am healed, of course i still won't feel well from time to time heh. but this is why we advance, we keep going, and we never give in. it's for that very same reason why i must go back! I gathered some photos from online as well.

I yearn for my camera to capture that sunset, as my own lens never graced, nor did my fingers ever attempt to capture it. It was when I was muzzled and dragged away, how could I have ever had a chance to capture it?

...

I don't care if it doesn't look the same because my heart is still there.

Now, as for these many strings of memories.

I should tie them together, like a rosary, or like the bracelets C.B.I was founded under.

So, that beach ties everything together huh? Looks like I have another destination in mind for when I go back to that old house.

As for the one who once attempted suicide in the same ways I once did, I believe they will be much, much safer on the west coast. I can only hope, and I will hope, even if I can't move at all sometimes when I think about any of it, or all of it, or anything.

This is acceptance.

This is acceptance.

It is.

tell me "red truth text," do you have anything else to say to me?

It will never be discovered.

and I'm okay with that because:

This is acceptance.

It's probably time I close my eyes again on that book.

I can rejoice, someone else made it, that alone, and to still be alive, to have never committed, that keeps me going.

May the Pacific Ocean keep them safe, and guide them, hopefully to a less dismal future. Hopefully.

Stay Happy There.

It will.

As for me?

I have my own ocean to contend with, I have the Gulf of México.

Now though...who else was on the West Coast?

Well, a mentor from about 9 years ago now. Someone who I seldom ever talk about, ever. This person guided me at a point, helping me do anything. She was a much older trans person than I was. I remember looking up to her greatly though. She was from California, and so was the person who now resides elsewhere on the West Coast. One never made it back to California and instead chose Washington; its so pretty up there in any event.

In my head there is the ocean which never was visited.

And for as substantial as it was, I accept it.

BREAK TIME THEORY: This eyeshadow palette is a La Dispute reference? ? Becuz...ACE BEAUTE sound like "LA DISPUTE" lol! x3

Continued Remnants of Scattered Leaves and the Ungrowing Palm.

Almost like a ritual, there was an ice cream shop on the way to the beach, it's still there. My memories were nothing but sweet, sweet and sweet. I am partial to gaudy milkshakes, and ice cream, even if I am not overly fond of sweets.

One sad truth about that ice cream place was that I had a friend who worked there once. It was a friend I first met all the way back in middle school, on quiet bus rides where I wanted no one to look at me at all, to someone who somehow is always in the background. For that person, he is doing great now, so good luck to him! He spent so long denying himself the right to exist until he finally moved out one day. I never really was friends with him too much but it was another constant.

Needless to say, the management at the ice cream place ended up being incredibly abusive, and I have heard other stories over time. I once prevented a girl from even going to interview there after what I knew, and have heard.

Still, it was just before the waterfront and I only learned it later in life, but that wasn't the only food place.

I remember shops too? restaurants, but most of all the swinging bench and the playground. My goals in visiting these old places one day is a "cleansing" of sorts. For those which once inhabited those spaces everyday, only to be so thoroughly ripped clean from it; surely does no good to anyone. My ideal is to wear a nice, golden and black dress, and go to all of these places again.

The old shopping plaza, my old house, the complex where my schools were at, that old beach, the arcade. Sure, it was a rundown, drug infested, "awful" city, but it was still a place I lived, a place I made friends with everyone at, it was certainly a hometown.

It is again something I would only ever truly imagine doing with someone I trust completely, as the side of me which would be shown at these places would be rather unseen for those who do not have true understanding. Again, please pardon my harsh wording. My intent is not to slight anyone in anyway.

There were so many canals around the area too. I remember the casino boat and the Christmas where my mom and stepdad were drunk beyond anything, and I remember taking my brother away from there so he was safe with me.

And let's not forget the bridges, and the water which ran beneath them, how it flowed.

Or the dollar store, I will never forget the dollar store.

I was always walking around alone because no one was really home ever. It wasn't really scary as I talked to myself and all my plushies though. I remember walking to the dollar store for some light snacks or toys. I was mainly alone though. We did have food there and groceries, but of course I wandered. I would bring things with me from time to time, and always made sure all my plushies heard about my adventure, just like they are right now! They can see me writing this...!

You know, at the beginning of the last section, I spoke about wanting to make myself "suffer" in the past. I was referring to multiple things but namely when I moved to this new apartment last year. I for some reason told myself to no longer have posters or anything on the wall at all, to keep it empty. And for what? was a part of me still wanting to kill myself? seriously? After how happy I was to finally have a friend? I realized only recently that I deserve to get whatever posters I want, whatever decorations I want, this room may make me feel disgusting, but I am allowed to make it mine. My plan is to hang up some polaroids, some more posters, at least something to make it hurt less. A big movement I made towards healing was the combination of my star projector and my sleep mask. I honestly forget it sometimes, or just keep it off due to how hard it is for me to sleep.

Nevertheless, I also put up a repair poster and am finally trying to hang up my corkboard, I mean I have two of them but one is designed weird so hanging it is difficult, but honestly I may just drill holes through it at some point hehe.

I already hung up a fun drawing I made of a snake which was exciting. I cuddle all of my snakes at night too, every night, as I enrapture myself in my golden butterfly blanket all the same.

I am here now, truly better, truly living. I also finally learned how to drink water bottles properly, as for my whole life I never knew you had to actually drink it, I thought the only way was to put my whole mouth on it ...leading to many a crushed drink bottle. That one may sound particularly silly.

Besides that I am not suicidal,

...

This is another promise.

I still have more to say but I have been writing this for four hours. It may seem like a shorter blog but everything in this one has been carefully considered.

It is now 3:39 AM, please take care of yourselves everyone!

I love you all!

• Victoria