u/vollairo

I've been writing some absurd first-person stories and I'm considering turning them into a YouTube channel.

The idea is basically ASMR-ish storytelling: calm narration, simple visuals, and weird/absurd stories that start somewhat believable before gradually getting ridiculous or unsettling.

For example, I just started writing one called “My neighbor keeps moving my trash cans every night. The strange part is, I think it’s the exact same three inches.”

I'm not expecting this to instantly make money or anything. I'd mainly do it because I enjoy writing/recording, and if it eventually gets enough traction to monetize, cool.

Does this sound like something you'd actually watch/listen to, or does it sound like a waste of time? I'm looking for honest opinions before I commit to making a bunch of these.

I've been writing some absurd first-person stories and I'm considering turning them into a YouTube channel.

The idea is basically ASMR-ish storytelling: calm narration, simple visuals, and weird/absurd stories that start somewhat believable before gradually getting ridiculous or unsettling.

For example, I just started writing one called “My neighbor keeps moving my trash cans every night. The strange part is, I think it’s the exact same three inches.”

I'm not expecting this to instantly make money or anything. I'd mainly do it because I enjoy writing/recording, and if it eventually gets enough traction to monetize, cool.

Does this sound like something you'd actually watch/listen to, or does it sound like a waste of time? I'm looking for honest opinions before I commit to making a bunch of these.

I am in the process of starting a YT channel that is focused on mainly fictional stories of various genres (more leading to horror/disturbed/thriller types) and have been working on crafting up a story to start. The premise is that I will read the stories in full or part by part series, in an ASMR setting while using either visuals and/or a setting dedicated to talking head shots and read the stories off ofc. The only thing is, I am very much lacking the confidence on my writing in general. I love to write and create stories but I haven't put much effort into developing my skill further in the recent years. Below is the initial part to the story I am building named "The Neighbor From A Literal Hell". I am looking for and open to critique, suggestions, remarks, or whatever you feel the project would benefit from overall. Thanks in advance.

[ I'll try my best to respond in a timely manner. No promises guaranteed. 🫶🏾 ]

The Neighbor From A Literal Hell

My neighbor keeps moving my trash cans every night. The strange part is, I think it’s the exact same three inches.

It initially started about a week ago. Trash day, per usual. I was in a rush to work with little time to worry about anything else outside my direct line of sight. As I pulled out of my less than cared for garage, reversing down the driveway, I noticed that the trash cans were already placed for removal. Not completely recognizing the oddity at hand, I brushed it off as something “mitigation Manny” took care of last night. Sometimes, although I can be lazy outside of work because of work, I tend to preemptively do things beforehand as to worry about it less when the time comes. Though this time I for the life of me couldn’t paint out that picture. Nonetheless, I quickly turned the slow crawl into full reverse and just as I halted for the pivot - BOOMF. I slammed the brakes and threw the gear in drive. Unassuming, a small panic began to creep up my spine as I pulled forward again. Though there was nothing behind me. No car. No animal. Not even a person. “Fuck.”, “I for sure killed SOMETHING.” is all that played in my head like an old vinyl stuck in a horror movie. The trash cans were still perfectly in position. Except…something about them was wrong. I wouldn’t have been able to pin the feeling if it were in my face. But looking at them, perfectly placed where they were, something was definitely off-kilter. Then I noticed it. There was a small crack in the pavement directly underneath the left wheel of the recycling bin, tucked just beneath where the wheel made contact with the cement. I’d noticed that crack months ago. I knew exactly where it was. And the wheel had been sitting directly on it. Now. It wasn’t. Not by much. Just enough to see the crack. Just enough to know that I hadn’t put the trash cans there. And, for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about exactly how far they’d moved. Or what the fuck I had hit.

Later that day, while at work, the feeling only got perpetually worse. Tom, my neighbor and coworker, rushed up to me as soon as I entered the office. “Did you hear about Roger?”, he asked. His face and overall expression was that of an underwhelmed anxious teen. Of course my answer was “no”. And of course he proceeded to tell me unprompted. It’s a good thing he did. Apparently sometime last night there were some concerning noises coming from Roger’s house and the police were called. They were stationed for nearly 5 hours, before they informed everyone that “the situation was handled.” and that “unfortunately Roger had expired.” before leaving. “Expired?”. How the fuck can a person expire? Was that their terminology or his? Tom is known for adding a “flare” to things for no goddam reason. He explained that essentially Roger expired and there was no lead on the reason. But. It was NOT natural causes for sure. I initially thought Tom was fucking with me. Mainly because during my little escapade earlier that morning, I saw none other than Mr. Hillinson himself. Standing, eerily, at the height of his driveway. Watching me lose my shit. I didn’t say anything to Tom about seeing Roger. I don’t know why. Maybe because I wasn’t entirely sure that I’d actually seen him. I mean, I saw him. That’s for damn sure. He was standing there, probably thirty feet away from me, staring directly at me. At the time, I assumed he was just being weird. Which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly unusual for him. The man had once stood outside for 7 continuous hours looking into the forest behind our lots. Tom’s continued talking was, as always, a sobering realization. Apparently the police had gone through Roger’s house twice. There were no signs of forced entry. Nothing appeared to be missing. No weapon. No obvious cause of death. Just Roger. Dead. Or, as the police had apparently decided to phrase it: Expired. Of course after asking Tom for his personal input he shrugged. However, more disinterested than before responded “probably heart attack.” “Wouldn’t that inherently negate your initial claim of it being ‘unnatural’?”, I lightly pressed. His utter response to that was “But I didn’t.” There was a brief silence. Before I could manage to lumber to my desk Tom pursed his lips as he stated “You look like shit.” Thanks Tom. “I mean worse than usual that is.” he added. I finally half assed gave him a overly underwhelmed yet sarcastic “thanks.” “You okay?” he asked. Then, “BOOMF”. The sound from my driveway earlier that morning put it startled jump to my movement. “No.” I sated as I autonomously walked to my desk thinking about the trash cans. As i did Tom nodded, as if that answered his question, his voice trailed me the farther I walked. “Alright, well. We’ll see you at game night tomorrow. Carpool in the AM?”, he nearly shouted. Not looking back, “yeah. yeah, sure.” I said over my head. After I made it back to my office I tried to spend the rest of the day not thinking about any of that morning. Especially with this big client acquisition upcoming. I failed. Around lunch, I hid in my car and checked the security cameras. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier, so I briskly opened the app and pulled the footage as soon as my ass hit the seat. There I was. 6:41AM. Backing out of the driveway. The trash cans were out. I watched myself stop. Reverse. BOOMF. The video weirdly shook slightly. I paused it and watched again. Nothing. I watched myself get out of the car. Rewind. Nothing. I watched myself standing there staring. Then I noticed something. The recycling bin moved. Not when I hit it. Not when I reversed. After. About twelve whole seconds after I got out of the car. I moved three inches. Then then camera timestamp changed. 6:42AM. And for approximately half a second, something moved across the very edge of the screen. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. But I could see the reflection of it in the window of my car. It looked like a person. And it was standing directly behind me. That’s when I realized, “Wait, WTF!!? Roger wasn’t there?” But he had been, and I knew he was. I wasn’t that tired. Fucking Tom. As I began to replay the video I looked deeper and noticed there was a distinct shadow where Roger “had” been but no person there. Then, as I leaned in closer. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

I am in the process of starting a YT channel that is focused on mainly fictional stories of various genres (more leading to horror/disturbed/thriller types) and have been working on crafting up a story to start. The premise is that I will read the stories in full or part by part series, in an ASMR setting while using either visuals and/or a setting dedicated to talking head shots and read the stories off ofc. The only thing is, I am very much lacking the confidence on my writing in general. I love to write and create stories but I haven't put much effort into developing my skill further in the recent years. Below is the initial part to the story I am building named "The Neighbor From A Literal Hell". I am looking for and open to critique, suggestions, remarks, or whatever you feel the project would benefit from overall. Thanks in advance.

[ I'll try my best to respond in a timely manner. No promises guaranteed. 🫶🏾 ]

The Neighbor From A Literal Hell

My neighbor keeps moving my trash cans every night. The strange part is, I think it’s the exact same three inches.

It initially started about a week ago. Trash day, per usual. I was in a rush to work with little time to worry about anything else outside my direct line of sight. As I pulled out of my less than cared for garage, reversing down the driveway, I noticed that the trash cans were already placed for removal. Not completely recognizing the oddity at hand, I brushed it off as something “mitigation Manny” took care of last night. Sometimes, although I can be lazy outside of work because of work, I tend to preemptively do things beforehand as to worry about it less when the time comes. Though this time I for the life of me couldn’t paint out that picture. Nonetheless, I quickly turned the slow crawl into full reverse and just as I halted for the pivot - BOOMF. I slammed the brakes and threw the gear in drive. Unassuming, a small panic began to creep up my spine as I pulled forward again. Though there was nothing behind me. No car. No animal. Not even a person. “Fuck.”, “I for sure killed SOMETHING.” is all that played in my head like an old vinyl stuck in a horror movie. The trash cans were still perfectly in position. Except…something about them was wrong. I wouldn’t have been able to pin the feeling if it were in my face. But looking at them, perfectly placed where they were, something was definitely off-kilter. Then I noticed it. There was a small crack in the pavement directly underneath the left wheel of the recycling bin, tucked just beneath where the wheel made contact with the cement. I’d noticed that crack months ago. I knew exactly where it was. And the wheel had been sitting directly on it. Now. It wasn’t. Not by much. Just enough to see the crack. Just enough to know that I hadn’t put the trash cans there. And, for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about exactly how far they’d moved. Or what the fuck I had hit.

Later that day, while at work, the feeling only got perpetually worse. Tom, my neighbor and coworker, rushed up to me as soon as I entered the office. “Did you hear about Roger?”, he asked. His face and overall expression was that of an underwhelmed anxious teen. Of course my answer was “no”. And of course he proceeded to tell me unprompted. It’s a good thing he did. Apparently sometime last night there were some concerning noises coming from Roger’s house and the police were called. They were stationed for nearly 5 hours, before they informed everyone that “the situation was handled.” and that “unfortunately Roger had expired.” before leaving. “Expired?”. How the fuck can a person expire? Was that their terminology or his? Tom is known for adding a “flare” to things for no goddam reason. He explained that essentially Roger expired and there was no lead on the reason. But. It was NOT natural causes for sure. I initially thought Tom was fucking with me. Mainly because during my little escapade earlier that morning, I saw none other than Mr. Hillinson himself. Standing, eerily, at the height of his driveway. Watching me lose my shit. I didn’t say anything to Tom about seeing Roger. I don’t know why. Maybe because I wasn’t entirely sure that I’d actually seen him. I mean, I saw him. That’s for damn sure. He was standing there, probably thirty feet away from me, staring directly at me. At the time, I assumed he was just being weird. Which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly unusual for him. The man had once stood outside for 7 continuous hours looking into the forest behind our lots. Tom’s continued talking was, as always, a sobering realization. Apparently the police had gone through Roger’s house twice. There were no signs of forced entry. Nothing appeared to be missing. No weapon. No obvious cause of death. Just Roger. Dead. Or, as the police had apparently decided to phrase it: Expired. Of course after asking Tom for his personal input he shrugged. However, more disinterested than before responded “probably heart attack.” “Wouldn’t that inherently negate your initial claim of it being ‘unnatural’?”, I lightly pressed. His utter response to that was “But I didn’t.” There was a brief silence. Before I could manage to lumber to my desk Tom pursed his lips as he stated “You look like shit.” Thanks Tom. “I mean worse than usual that is.” he added. I finally half assed gave him a overly underwhelmed yet sarcastic “thanks.” “You okay?” he asked. Then, “BOOMF”. The sound from my driveway earlier that morning put it startled jump to my movement. “No.” I sated as I autonomously walked to my desk thinking about the trash cans. As i did Tom nodded, as if that answered his question, his voice trailed me the farther I walked. “Alright, well. We’ll see you at game night tomorrow. Carpool in the AM?”, he nearly shouted. Not looking back, “yeah. yeah, sure.” I said over my head. After I made it back to my office I tried to spend the rest of the day not thinking about any of that morning. Especially with this big client acquisition upcoming. I failed. Around lunch, I hid in my car and checked the security cameras. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier, so I briskly opened the app and pulled the footage as soon as my ass hit the seat. There I was. 6:41AM. Backing out of the driveway. The trash cans were out. I watched myself stop. Reverse. BOOMF. The video weirdly shook slightly. I paused it and watched again. Nothing. I watched myself get out of the car. Rewind. Nothing. I watched myself standing there staring. Then I noticed something. The recycling bin moved. Not when I hit it. Not when I reversed. After. About twelve whole seconds after I got out of the car. I moved three inches. Then then camera timestamp changed. 6:42AM. And for approximately half a second, something moved across the very edge of the screen. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. But I could see the reflection of it in the window of my car. It looked like a person. And it was standing directly behind me. That’s when I realized, “Wait, WTF!!? Roger wasn’t there?” But he had been, and I knew he was. I wasn’t that tired. Fucking Tom. As I began to replay the video I looked deeper and noticed there was a distinct shadow where Roger “had” been but no person there. Then, as I leaned in closer. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

I am in the process of starting a YT channel that is focused on mainly fictional stories of various genres (more leading to horror/disturbed/thriller types) and have been working on crafting up a story to start. The premise is that I will read the stories in full or part by part series, in an ASMR setting while using either visuals and/or a setting dedicated to talking head shots and read the stories off ofc. The only thing is, I am very much lacking the confidence on my writing in general. I love to write and create stories but I haven't put much effort into developing my skill further in the recent years. Below is the initial part to the story I am building named "The Neighbor From A Literal Hell". I am looking for and open to critique, suggestions, remarks, or whatever you feel the project would benefit from overall. Thanks in advance.

[ I'll try my best to respond in a timely manner. No promises guaranteed. 🫶🏾 ]

The Neighbor From A Literal Hell

My neighbor keeps moving my trash cans every night. The strange part is, I think it’s the exact same three inches.

It initially started about a week ago. Trash day, per usual. I was in a rush to work with little time to worry about anything else outside my direct line of sight. As I pulled out of my less than cared for garage, reversing down the driveway, I noticed that the trash cans were already placed for removal. Not completely recognizing the oddity at hand, I brushed it off as something “mitigation Manny” took care of last night. Sometimes, although I can be lazy outside of work because of work, I tend to preemptively do things beforehand as to worry about it less when the time comes. Though this time I for the life of me couldn’t paint out that picture. Nonetheless, I quickly turned the slow crawl into full reverse and just as I halted for the pivot - BOOMF. I slammed the brakes and threw the gear in drive. Unassuming, a small panic began to creep up my spine as I pulled forward again. Though there was nothing behind me. No car. No animal. Not even a person. “Fuck.”, “I for sure killed SOMETHING.” is all that played in my head like an old vinyl stuck in a horror movie. The trash cans were still perfectly in position. Except…something about them was wrong. I wouldn’t have been able to pin the feeling if it were in my face. But looking at them, perfectly placed where they were, something was definitely off-kilter. Then I noticed it. There was a small crack in the pavement directly underneath the left wheel of the recycling bin, tucked just beneath where the wheel made contact with the cement. I’d noticed that crack months ago. I knew exactly where it was. And the wheel had been sitting directly on it. Now. It wasn’t. Not by much. Just enough to see the crack. Just enough to know that I hadn’t put the trash cans there. And, for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about exactly how far they’d moved. Or what the fuck I had hit.

Later that day, while at work, the feeling only got perpetually worse. Tom, my neighbor and coworker, rushed up to me as soon as I entered the office. “Did you hear about Roger?”, he asked. His face and overall expression was that of an underwhelmed anxious teen. Of course my answer was “no”. And of course he proceeded to tell me unprompted. It’s a good thing he did. Apparently sometime last night there were some concerning noises coming from Roger’s house and the police were called. They were stationed for nearly 5 hours, before they informed everyone that “the situation was handled.” and that “unfortunately Roger had expired.” before leaving. “Expired?”. How the fuck can a person expire? Was that their terminology or his? Tom is known for adding a “flare” to things for no goddam reason. He explained that essentially Roger expired and there was no lead on the reason. But. It was NOT natural causes for sure. I initially thought Tom was fucking with me. Mainly because during my little escapade earlier that morning, I saw none other than Mr. Hillinson himself. Standing, eerily, at the height of his driveway. Watching me lose my shit. I didn’t say anything to Tom about seeing Roger. I don’t know why. Maybe because I wasn’t entirely sure that I’d actually seen him. I mean, I saw him. That’s for damn sure. He was standing there, probably thirty feet away from me, staring directly at me. At the time, I assumed he was just being weird. Which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly unusual for him. The man had once stood outside for 7 continuous hours looking into the forest behind our lots. Tom’s continued talking was, as always, a sobering realization. Apparently the police had gone through Roger’s house twice. There were no signs of forced entry. Nothing appeared to be missing. No weapon. No obvious cause of death. Just Roger. Dead. Or, as the police had apparently decided to phrase it: Expired. Of course after asking Tom for his personal input he shrugged. However, more disinterested than before responded “probably heart attack.” “Wouldn’t that inherently negate your initial claim of it being ‘unnatural’?”, I lightly pressed. His utter response to that was “But I didn’t.” There was a brief silence. Before I could manage to lumber to my desk Tom pursed his lips as he stated “You look like shit.” Thanks Tom. “I mean worse than usual that is.” he added. I finally half assed gave him a overly underwhelmed yet sarcastic “thanks.” “You okay?” he asked. Then, “BOOMF”. The sound from my driveway earlier that morning put it startled jump to my movement. “No.” I sated as I autonomously walked to my desk thinking about the trash cans. As i did Tom nodded, as if that answered his question, his voice trailed me the farther I walked. “Alright, well. We’ll see you at game night tomorrow. Carpool in the AM?”, he nearly shouted. Not looking back, “yeah. yeah, sure.” I said over my head. After I made it back to my office I tried to spend the rest of the day not thinking about any of that morning. Especially with this big client acquisition upcoming. I failed. Around lunch, I hid in my car and checked the security cameras. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier, so I briskly opened the app and pulled the footage as soon as my ass hit the seat. There I was. 6:41AM. Backing out of the driveway. The trash cans were out. I watched myself stop. Reverse. BOOMF. The video weirdly shook slightly. I paused it and watched again. Nothing. I watched myself get out of the car. Rewind. Nothing. I watched myself standing there staring. Then I noticed something. The recycling bin moved. Not when I hit it. Not when I reversed. After. About twelve whole seconds after I got out of the car. I moved three inches. Then then camera timestamp changed. 6:42AM. And for approximately half a second, something moved across the very edge of the screen. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. But I could see the reflection of it in the window of my car. It looked like a person. And it was standing directly behind me. That’s when I realized, “Wait, WTF!!? Roger wasn’t there?” But he had been, and I knew he was. I wasn’t that tired. Fucking Tom. As I began to replay the video I looked deeper and noticed there was a distinct shadow where Roger “had” been but no person there. Then, as I leaned in closer. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

I am in the process of starting a YT channel that is focused on mainly fictional stories of various genres (more leading to horror/disturbed/thriller types) and have been working on crafting up a story to start. The premise is that I will read the stories in full or part by part series, in an ASMR setting while using either visuals and/or a setting dedicated to talking head shots and read the stories off ofc. The only thing is, I am very much lacking the confidence on my writing in general. I love to write and create stories but I haven't put much effort into developing my skill further in the recent years. Below is the initial part to the story I am building named "The Neighbor From A Literal Hell". I am looking for and open to critique, suggestions, remarks, or whatever you feel the project would benefit from overall. Thanks in advance.

[ I'll try my best to respond in a timely manner. No promises guaranteed. 🫶🏾 ]

The Neighbor From A Literal Hell

My neighbor keeps moving my trash cans every night. The strange part is, I think it’s the exact same three inches.

It initially started about a week ago. Trash day, per usual. I was in a rush to work with little time to worry about anything else outside my direct line of sight. As I pulled out of my less than cared for garage, reversing down the driveway, I noticed that the trash cans were already placed for removal. Not completely recognizing the oddity at hand, I brushed it off as something “mitigation Manny” took care of last night. Sometimes, although I can be lazy outside of work because of work, I tend to preemptively do things beforehand as to worry about it less when the time comes. Though this time I for the life of me couldn’t paint out that picture. Nonetheless, I quickly turned the slow crawl into full reverse and just as I halted for the pivot - BOOMF. I slammed the brakes and threw the gear in drive. Unassuming, a small panic began to creep up my spine as I pulled forward again. Though there was nothing behind me. No car. No animal. Not even a person. “Fuck.”, “I for sure killed SOMETHING.” is all that played in my head like an old vinyl stuck in a horror movie. The trash cans were still perfectly in position. Except…something about them was wrong. I wouldn’t have been able to pin the feeling if it were in my face. But looking at them, perfectly placed where they were, something was definitely off-kilter. Then I noticed it. There was a small crack in the pavement directly underneath the left wheel of the recycling bin, tucked just beneath where the wheel made contact with the cement. I’d noticed that crack months ago. I knew exactly where it was. And the wheel had been sitting directly on it. Now. It wasn’t. Not by much. Just enough to see the crack. Just enough to know that I hadn’t put the trash cans there. And, for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about exactly how far they’d moved. Or what the fuck I had hit.

Later that day, while at work, the feeling only got perpetually worse. Tom, my neighbor and coworker, rushed up to me as soon as I entered the office. “Did you hear about Roger?”, he asked. His face and overall expression was that of an underwhelmed anxious teen. Of course my answer was “no”. And of course he proceeded to tell me unprompted. It’s a good thing he did. Apparently sometime last night there were some concerning noises coming from Roger’s house and the police were called. They were stationed for nearly 5 hours, before they informed everyone that “the situation was handled.” and that “unfortunately Roger had expired.” before leaving. “Expired?”. How the fuck can a person expire? Was that their terminology or his? Tom is known for adding a “flare” to things for no goddam reason. He explained that essentially Roger expired and there was no lead on the reason. But. It was NOT natural causes for sure. I initially thought Tom was fucking with me. Mainly because during my little escapade earlier that morning, I saw none other than Mr. Hillinson himself. Standing, eerily, at the height of his driveway. Watching me lose my shit. I didn’t say anything to Tom about seeing Roger. I don’t know why. Maybe because I wasn’t entirely sure that I’d actually seen him. I mean, I saw him. That’s for damn sure. He was standing there, probably thirty feet away from me, staring directly at me. At the time, I assumed he was just being weird. Which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly unusual for him. The man had once stood outside for 7 continuous hours looking into the forest behind our lots. Tom’s continued talking was, as always, a sobering realization. Apparently the police had gone through Roger’s house twice. There were no signs of forced entry. Nothing appeared to be missing. No weapon. No obvious cause of death. Just Roger. Dead. Or, as the police had apparently decided to phrase it: Expired. Of course after asking Tom for his personal input he shrugged. However, more disinterested than before responded “probably heart attack.” “Wouldn’t that inherently negate your initial claim of it being ‘unnatural’?”, I lightly pressed. His utter response to that was “But I didn’t.” There was a brief silence. Before I could manage to lumber to my desk Tom pursed his lips as he stated “You look like shit.” Thanks Tom. “I mean worse than usual that is.” he added. I finally half assed gave him a overly underwhelmed yet sarcastic “thanks.” “You okay?” he asked. Then, “BOOMF”. The sound from my driveway earlier that morning put it startled jump to my movement. “No.” I sated as I autonomously walked to my desk thinking about the trash cans. As i did Tom nodded, as if that answered his question, his voice trailed me the farther I walked. “Alright, well. We’ll see you at game night tomorrow. Carpool in the AM?”, he nearly shouted. Not looking back, “yeah. yeah, sure.” I said over my head. After I made it back to my office I tried to spend the rest of the day not thinking about any of that morning. Especially with this big client acquisition upcoming. I failed. Around lunch, I hid in my car and checked the security cameras. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier, so I briskly opened the app and pulled the footage as soon as my ass hit the seat. There I was. 6:41AM. Backing out of the driveway. The trash cans were out. I watched myself stop. Reverse. BOOMF. The video weirdly shook slightly. I paused it and watched again. Nothing. I watched myself get out of the car. Rewind. Nothing. I watched myself standing there staring. Then I noticed something. The recycling bin moved. Not when I hit it. Not when I reversed. After. About twelve whole seconds after I got out of the car. I moved three inches. Then then camera timestamp changed. 6:42AM. And for approximately half a second, something moved across the very edge of the screen. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. But I could see the reflection of it in the window of my car. It looked like a person. And it was standing directly behind me. That’s when I realized, “Wait, WTF!!? Roger wasn’t there?” But he had been, and I knew he was. I wasn’t that tired. Fucking Tom. As I began to replay the video I looked deeper and noticed there was a distinct shadow where Roger “had” been but no person there. Then, as I leaned in closer. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Recently after talking with my psychiatrist I was prescribed bupropion 150xl, once a day. Although there was/is no definitive start date. However, my psychiatrist was under the impression that I would start before our next visit (I didn't). We rescheduled for a month later, coming up here in a few weeks, and I have yet to start. Technically I took my first dose as of 10AM CST today but I think I am still overly timid on the side effects, research on actual mood stability, and the likes while using bupropion to circumvent thc use. Currently, I am thinking of stopping as I think this itching wont sit well with me (I feel medications tend to release faster in my system somehow - not very knowledgeable on that subject).

Essentially, as the title says, Have anyone used bupropion (150 xl specifically) for quitting high thc and if so how was your overall experience? I'm looking into more of the daily side effects, moods, feelings, mindset, etc.

Thanks again in advance. I'll do my best to respond as actively as possible.

I’m working on a video where I want to essentially Frankenstein together the best possible man from fictional characters. Not necessarily the perfect man — more like a man with the least destructive flaws. I’m looking for male characters from romantic movies / rom-coms who have qualities worth stealing.

Some of the people I’ve already thought about are:
Lloyd Dobler (Say Anything…) — earnestness / willingness to care deeply
Harry Burns (When Harry Met Sally) — intelligence / conversation
Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You) — confidence / vulnerability
Peter Kavinsky (To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before) — affection / playfulness
Graham (The Holiday) — warmth / domesticity
Quincy McCall (Love & Basketball) — ambition / devotion
Vikram (The Big Sick) — humor / resilience / willingness to grow
William Wang (Crazy Rich Asians) — sincerity / emotional steadiness
Rafael Solano (Jane the Virgin) — protectiveness / willingness to change
Raj Koothrappali (The Big Bang Theory) — romantic sensitivity / emotional openness
Jesse (Before Sunrise) — curiosity / conversation / spontaneity
Tom Hansen (500 Days of Summer) — …okay, maybe we’ll discuss what NOT to take from him
Darcy (Bridget Jones’s Diary) — loyalty / devotion / confidence
Tim Lake (About Time) — appreciation for ordinary life / presence
Robbie Turner (Atonement) — devotion / romantic idealism
Noah Calhoun (The Notebook) — intensity / commitment (with a LOT to debate)
Sam Baldwin (Sleepless in Seattle) — vulnerability / romantic hope

But I don’t want to just use my own picks.

Who are your choices? And don’t just give me the character — tell me what you’d take from him.

Something like:
“Lloyd Dobler — his willingness to care deeply without being embarrassed about it.”

Or:

“Mr. Darcy — confidence and devotion, but absolutely NOT the emotional constipation.”

😂

I’m especially interested in characters who are:
- emotionally available
- genuinely romantic
- kind without being spineless
- confident without being arrogant
- affectionate without everything becoming sexual
- capable of communicating
- willing to grow
- actually interesting to be around

Bonus: Give me a character who is almost great but has one absolutely lethal flaw. I’m trying to build this man with the fewest catastrophic character defects possible.

I’m open to movies from any decade, country, genre, or language. Traditional rom-coms are great, but romantic dramas and other romance-focused movies are welcome too.

If you had to steal ONE quality from one fictional man to put into a new man, who are you stealing from and what are you taking?

I’m working on a video where I want to essentially Frankenstein together the best possible man from fictional characters. Not necessarily the perfect man — more like a man with the least destructive flaws. I’m looking for male characters from romantic movies / rom-coms who have qualities worth stealing.

Some of the people I’ve already thought about are:
Lloyd Dobler (Say Anything…) — earnestness / willingness to care deeply
Harry Burns (When Harry Met Sally) — intelligence / conversation
Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You) — confidence / vulnerability
Peter Kavinsky (To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before) — affection / playfulness
Graham (The Holiday) — warmth / domesticity
Quincy McCall (Love & Basketball) — ambition / devotion
Vikram (The Big Sick) — humor / resilience / willingness to grow
William Wang (Crazy Rich Asians) — sincerity / emotional steadiness
Rafael Solano (Jane the Virgin) — protectiveness / willingness to change
Raj Koothrappali (The Big Bang Theory) — romantic sensitivity / emotional openness
Jesse (Before Sunrise) — curiosity / conversation / spontaneity
Tom Hansen (500 Days of Summer) — …okay, maybe we’ll discuss what NOT to take from him
Darcy (Bridget Jones’s Diary) — loyalty / devotion / confidence
Tim Lake (About Time) — appreciation for ordinary life / presence
Robbie Turner (Atonement) — devotion / romantic idealism
Noah Calhoun (The Notebook) — intensity / commitment (with a LOT to debate)
Sam Baldwin (Sleepless in Seattle) — vulnerability / romantic hope

But I don’t want to just use my own picks.

Who are your choices? And don’t just give me the character — tell me what you’d take from him.

Something like:
“Lloyd Dobler — his willingness to care deeply without being embarrassed about it.”

Or:

“Mr. Darcy — confidence and devotion, but absolutely NOT the emotional constipation.”

😂

I’m especially interested in characters who are:
- emotionally available
- genuinely romantic
- kind without being spineless
- confident without being arrogant
- affectionate without everything becoming sexual
- capable of communicating
- willing to grow
- actually interesting to be around

Bonus: Give me a character who is almost great but has one absolutely lethal flaw. I’m trying to build this man with the fewest catastrophic character defects possible.

I’m open to movies from any decade, country, genre, or language. Traditional rom-coms are great, but romantic dramas and other romance-focused movies are welcome too.

If you had to steal ONE quality from one fictional man to put into a new man, who are you stealing from and what are you taking?

I’m working on a video where I want to essentially Frankenstein together the best possible man from fictional characters. Not necessarily the perfect man — more like a man with the least destructive flaws. I’m looking for male characters from romantic movies / rom-coms who have qualities worth stealing.

Some of the people I’ve already thought about are:
Lloyd Dobler (Say Anything…) — earnestness / willingness to care deeply
Harry Burns (When Harry Met Sally) — intelligence / conversation
Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You) — confidence / vulnerability
Peter Kavinsky (To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before) — affection / playfulness
Graham (The Holiday) — warmth / domesticity
Quincy McCall (Love & Basketball) — ambition / devotion
Vikram (The Big Sick) — humor / resilience / willingness to grow
William Wang (Crazy Rich Asians) — sincerity / emotional steadiness
Rafael Solano (Jane the Virgin) — protectiveness / willingness to change
Raj Koothrappali (The Big Bang Theory) — romantic sensitivity / emotional openness
Jesse (Before Sunrise) — curiosity / conversation / spontaneity
Tom Hansen (500 Days of Summer) — …okay, maybe we’ll discuss what NOT to take from him
Darcy (Bridget Jones’s Diary) — loyalty / devotion / confidence
Tim Lake (About Time) — appreciation for ordinary life / presence
Robbie Turner (Atonement) — devotion / romantic idealism
Noah Calhoun (The Notebook) — intensity / commitment (with a LOT to debate)
Sam Baldwin (Sleepless in Seattle) — vulnerability / romantic hope

But I don’t want to just use my own picks.

Who are your choices? And don’t just give me the character — tell me what you’d take from him.

Something like:
“Lloyd Dobler — his willingness to care deeply without being embarrassed about it.”

Or:

“Mr. Darcy — confidence and devotion, but absolutely NOT the emotional constipation.”

😂

I’m especially interested in characters who are:
- emotionally available
- genuinely romantic
- kind without being spineless
- confident without being arrogant
- affectionate without everything becoming sexual
- capable of communicating
- willing to grow
- actually interesting to be around

Bonus: Give me a character who is almost great but has one absolutely lethal flaw. I’m trying to build this man with the fewest catastrophic character defects possible.

I’m open to movies from any decade, country, genre, or language. Traditional rom-coms are great, but romantic dramas and other romance-focused movies are welcome too.

If you had to steal ONE quality from one fictional man to put into a new man, who are you stealing from and what are you taking?

I’m working on a video where I want to essentially Frankenstein together the best possible man from fictional characters. Not necessarily the perfect man — more like a man with the least destructive flaws. I’m looking for male characters from romantic movies / rom-coms who have qualities worth stealing.

Some of the people I’ve already thought about are:
Lloyd Dobler (Say Anything…) — earnestness / willingness to care deeply
Harry Burns (When Harry Met Sally) — intelligence / conversation
Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You) — confidence / vulnerability
Peter Kavinsky (To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before) — affection / playfulness
Graham (The Holiday) — warmth / domesticity
Quincy McCall (Love & Basketball) — ambition / devotion
Vikram (The Big Sick) — humor / resilience / willingness to grow
William Wang (Crazy Rich Asians) — sincerity / emotional steadiness
Rafael Solano (Jane the Virgin) — protectiveness / willingness to change
Raj Koothrappali (The Big Bang Theory) — romantic sensitivity / emotional openness
Jesse (Before Sunrise) — curiosity / conversation / spontaneity
Tom Hansen (500 Days of Summer) — …okay, maybe we’ll discuss what NOT to take from him
Darcy (Bridget Jones’s Diary) — loyalty / devotion / confidence
Tim Lake (About Time) — appreciation for ordinary life / presence
Robbie Turner (Atonement) — devotion / romantic idealism
Noah Calhoun (The Notebook) — intensity / commitment (with a LOT to debate)
Sam Baldwin (Sleepless in Seattle) — vulnerability / romantic hope

But I don’t want to just use my own picks.

Who are your choices? And don’t just give me the character — tell me what you’d take from him.

Something like:
“Lloyd Dobler — his willingness to care deeply without being embarrassed about it.”

Or:

“Mr. Darcy — confidence and devotion, but absolutely NOT the emotional constipation.”

😂

I’m especially interested in characters who are:
- emotionally available
- genuinely romantic
- kind without being spineless
- confident without being arrogant
- affectionate without everything becoming sexual
- capable of communicating
- willing to grow
- actually interesting to be around

Bonus: Give me a character who is almost great but has one absolutely lethal flaw. I’m trying to build this man with the fewest catastrophic character defects possible.

I’m open to movies from any decade, country, genre, or language. Traditional rom-coms are great, but romantic dramas and other romance-focused movies are welcome too.

If you had to steal ONE quality from one fictional man to put into a new man, who are you stealing from and what are you taking?