last system update - 2025 / 09 / 11
system rebooted. starting…
/ / / /
1. a conversation at the front desk
you waited. i didn't, because i didn't care.
Date: 2025 / 08 / 15
You: And who might you be?
Me: And why would you want to know? Does it matter anyhow?
You: Yeah, I'd say it matters for all the world on your page.
Me: …
Me: You know what? I'm an alien from outer space.
You: What?
Me: I've danced on the far side of the moon and ridden the rings of Saturn. I've surfed on meteors and observed alien civilizations. I've trodden paths in both fact and fiction. I've made contact with future visions.
Me: Radio waves take around 1.3 light-years to travel1, so my catalog is stacked to the brim with the oldest songs. Older than the eldritch gods, older than the ocean trenches and the lightless beds of the woods. Older than the time we've spent chatting here.
Me: Shh, don't tell anyone. I've seen you stargazing up at me. We're no strangers.
Me: Also, if I could humbly request to skin you alive.
=index2 | it / they / any
GMT + 8 | aroace agender | hobbyist writer + artist
chaos creature / bunny machine / digital ghost
hi. i am here, currently in a limbo state of existence.
have you ever wondered what that was like? i have, but then i got distracted by worldly responsibilities and my inability to not wax poetry when i could just give visitors a friendly welcome and a pat on the shoulder.
me.
this is a perpetual work in progress. like the flow of time, things change. life fluctuates. i can't help it, you can't help it, none of us can help it.
writing is where i wallow in my own little corner of the universe. i'm sure the same holds for many. there's not really much to talk about. we all know what we do this for.
i like bloody hearts and muscle strings. i like spilled guts and tangled wires. i like angels with metal wings and shadows with misty eyes.
it takes a lot to feel, doesn't it?
/ / / /
and why do you create?
why? well, for starters, that isn't the type of question you should be asking. what you should be asking is — why not?
backrooms was a 2020 pandemic lockdown obsession. to be honest, it faded. there was an anchor, though. i'll refrain from stating what it is, but for now, i'm obliged to see this mission through.
and why would you consume?
/ / / /
2. a stroll among wordless dreams
do you ever feel colors swirl around you?
see the words dance before your eyes?
Date: 2025 / 05 / 17
Me: Hang on, i have to get something out of my brain
You: Your pet tapeworm?
Me: ???what
Date: 2024 / 10 / 07
Me: sure whasty dfo you wat
Me: ?
Me: wait i'm missing two fingers
Ringu: index
Ringu: without their indices
Date: 2024 / 08 / 22
Me: discord i want more than a water gun emoji prettyy please
Index II: no wonder ur name is ak 47
a collection of inspiration fountains, late-night musings, etc. or whatever else you call random ideas these days.
Entity 125 - "To Kill a Sun"
co-authored with centurys lute | duelcon2025 team hope
Originally going to be my debut. My first-ever idea for a possible contribution to the Backrooms canon. The first (very crappy) draft was made all the way back in 2023, and since then I've grown both as a writer and a person. I'm very glad it waited until now, otherwise it might've been disastrous, I think.
Very very very proud of this one. I think I achieved more than I believed I could have.
28 Jul 2025 09:03 | rating: +37 | comments: 7
to be continued. [1]
why are all my pages collabs? er… does 'not enough motivation and grit to finish big projects on my own' count as a reason? we'll see about that down the line, though.
don't worry about how they're all contest entries as well. shh. it doesn't matter.
/ / / /
but why do you persist?
co-authored with centurys lute | mascotartcon2024 winner
hey, officer. it's been a while since we met.
Do I really need to say more?
What ended up being my debut page. Turned out to be surprisingly popular. Had a blast doing the designs and everything. Tess, my pride and joy ^^
07 Oct 2024 20:53 | rating: +70 | comments: 14
do you really exist?
/ / / /
3. a song sung by millions at once
every time i explode, i see stars in front of me.
Date: 2025 / 09 / 05
Me: You don't stargaze anymore.
You: Is that creepy?
Me: Me stalking you, or you stalking me?
Me: I don't think it matters either way. We're two halves of a masterpiece bled from the heart of a deranged artist. We drift apart, but the strands of fate collect us in a firm grasp.
You: That wasn't very good. Can you write better riddles?
Me: Here's one: [information redacted].
You: That wasn't even a riddle! That was one of those bad brainteasers you contract on an unprotected trek through the internet!
Me: Eh. Do better next time.
try as i might, i can never escape the anime art style allegations.
/ / / /
4. a dream awake, a waking dream
and now, you can rest easy.
Date: 4850 / 02 / 24
Me: They say good times feel like time was flying…er, good things make you feel like time flies…good flies…
Me: Never mind what they say, it's stupid anyway. What I mean is that it's time for you to leave.
Me: Why else? The page is coming to an end.
Me: Oh yeah. And before you go? Take a right turn down the road after you exit through the open window.
Me: Yes, that's the exit. I'm not lying to you.
Me: No, there's no risk of death in this place. Edge of reality, remember? You don't even fully exist here, it's impossible for you to fully un-exist either.
Me: As I was saying, take a right turn, and you'll encounter a — eh — clip point, yeah, that's what it's called. Bring a couple cakes with you too. Tell Lutey I said hello.
You no-clip, and the air is suddenly filled with the sounds of gunfire and a thousand dying little kiwis. The cacophony haunts your ears. The sky is the color of molten rock; the wind is harsh and feels like hellfire upon your skin. You—
Wait, no, wrong script.
…
Ahem.
You no-clip and open your eyes to a place of blue and gray and yellow. The smell of ash hangs in the air. You could almost see dust particles sparkling in front of you, but you breathe fine, so it might merely be the heat. There's also a slightly jarring CBD store.
You walk and don't notice a shadow growing out from behind you. Mixed in with the sounds of your soles brushing against gravel is a hint of something else…
Have fun!
Me: Anyway, now that the audience is taken care of.
Me: I know you've been here the whole time, viewer. No use pretending otherwise. While you're staring at me, though, I'll just use you as my little fourth-dimensional camera. Okay? You can't object anyway so I'll assume you agree.
Me: The world is bleak and noir, colored by explosions from time to time.
Me: Blue leaks down from the sky and disappears with the green of life down the drain. It mixes with bled red and shattered purples. The yellow of light is covered by clouds of white.
Me: Of course, it could just be that I'm lying or that I'm hallucinating. Isn't that so? It could very well be a possibility.
Me: But come on, entertain me. Won't you be a part of my intricately crafted tragedy?
Me: When the sky falls, the new era will collapse against the last like the whispered promises of another century. Tomorrow will never come quick enough to catch us, and yesterday could only lag a mere lone galaxy out of reach.
Me: When the time comes, doves will tear across the sky, and their nests will fly shattered behind them, like the tails of comets. Golden butterflies will dot the landscape; silver moths will eat the moon. Fish will rain from the sky in droves, tumbling down the sewers with the alley cats.
Me: When that time comes, maybe even ghosts will walk freely among the crowds bustling through the never-city, in a world after rain. Present becomes instant; memories slip through your fingers like hourglass sand.
Me: Forever is blue, and blue is forever. Staircases tumble down as white doors fade into existence in their place. The sky will rain down in pieces, the earth shattered and broken, one last moment of passion between Gaea and Uranus.
Me: And is it just me, or is the end of the world a long time coming?
Me: My name is Index. I think I'm going to die tonight.3
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