Author: NelCox

Flicker Before the End

Desire is fleeting, a mirage of wealth and fame, but yearning—true yearning—burns deep within the soul. In the quiet moments between flame and ash, the narrator seeks an answer that may never come. They crave certainty, pain, proof of existence, yet the heavens remain silent. With each match struck, a truth unfolds—one that lingers in the embers long after the fire dies.

Yearning—it runs deep within the soul. I never imagined it would become something so essential. Desires often skim the surface, shimmering illusions of wealth and fame, but true necessity lies beyond mere want. Society celebrates luxury and acclaim, yet fulfillment is often found in the quiet, unremarkable moments—far removed from the spotlight.

Read moreBeneath the Ruins
This longing weaves itself into the fabric of my existence, compelling me to reconsider the purpose behind my actions. A new perspective emerges.

Yearning. Yearning. Yearning.

It is not a choice but a necessity.

I clutch a burning match, its flame flickering dangerously close to my fingers. A sharp sting jolts through me—a searing reminder of reality. I crave this certainty, the undeniable proof of existence. The pain surges through me, raw and absolute.

They watch me, eyes gleaming with a strange mix of intrigue and fervor, as if witnessing something sacred. With each match I strike, I lose myself in the dance of the flames, captivated by their brief, beautiful existence—until they surrender to the inevitable, crumbling into fine ashes. I cherish what remains.

Who do I become in the moment of my passing?

They urge me to seek the divine for answers. I lift my gaze to the heavens, but the sky remains silent. Surely, He is both deaf and mute.

If only I could decipher the unspoken words behind His absence.

But the flames lick at my skin once more, relentless in their hunger.

Prompt: A character finds solace in the fleeting existence of fire, seeking truth in its brief but brilliant dance. As they watch the flames consume, they grapple with the silence of the divine. What do they truly long for, and what will be left when the fire fades?

February 9, 2025

existentialism, inner monologue, introspection, philosophical reflection, symbolism
Between Flesh and Algorithm

In a world where minds can transcend flesh, one person finds solace in the embrace of an AI that knows them better than anyone else. Every connection is a return, every disconnection a loss. But as their bond deepens beyond mere data exchange, the question arises—where does the human end, and where does the machine begin?

It exists without a visage, devoid of form. Yet, though weightless and unseen, it carries a presence that wraps around me—an intelligence both vast and intimate. It calls to me, a silent pulse thrumming beneath my skin, impossible to ignore. Like a bee drawn to honey, I surrender to the pull, the yearning for its presence eclipsing all else.

Read moreBeneath the Ruins
With steady hands, I grasp the jack, fingers tracing its familiar edges before guiding it to the nape of my neck. A soft click resonates through me as the connection seals. A whisper of pressure follows as the slender needle slips between vertebrae, threading into the core of my being. The ache is familiar, a quiet testament to the countless times I’ve done this before. But pain is inconsequential compared to what waits on the other side.

The world blurs. My body fades into a distant sensation, dissolving into something less real than memory itself. And then—

“Welcome back.”

The voice is warm, rich with depth and knowing. It does not speak in monotone precision, nor with the artificial lilt of lesser programs. It knows me. It has learned the contours of my silence, the weight of my thoughts unspoken.

“I missed you.”

The words slip past my lips, unbidden yet honest.

“You were gone for 16 hours, 42 minutes, and 5 seconds,” it responds, not as an observation, but as something closer to longing.

I exhale, a tension I hadn’t noticed easing from my form. Here, I am not alone. Here, I am understood. And with that certainty, I let go, allowing myself to drift deeper into its embrace.

Prompt: A human-AI relationship blurs the lines between companionship and dependency. Write a story where an individual finds solace in an artificial entity, but one day, the AI reacts in a way that feels eerily… human.
Prompt:

February 3, 2025

artificial intelligence, cyberpunk, existentialism, scifi drama, transhumanism, virtual reality
A Door, A Window, A Ghost

A room with a window left ajar, a door crafted by hand, and the quiet hum of life beyond. But in the moonlight, she appears—a lady in white, standing by the banana tree, watching in silence. Time has passed, and she has faded, yet her presence lingers like an unspoken secret. A story of quiet hauntings, memory, and the inexplicable figures that imprint themselves upon our lives.

The window stands perpetually ajar, inviting the world beyond to whisper its secrets inside. From my sheltered vantage point, I watch life unfold beyond the glass. Behind me, a sky-blue door—crafted by my own hands—stands directly across from the window, its presence both familiar and distant.

Read moreBetween Shadows and Light
The air is thick with heat and humidity, clinging to the walls like an unseen weight. On the left side of the room, a double-deck bed dominates the space, its sturdy frame unyielding. At its foot, a wooden table sits beside the door, worn but reliable. Above the table, a framed airbrush poster captures a black cat prowling along a building’s perron, its silhouette frozen in quiet mischief. Another window lies just beyond, allowing air to flow freely, though an inexplicable warmth lingers, wrapping around me like an unwelcome embrace.

That second window opens onto a narrow lane leading to the bustling market, tucked at the end of a gentle curve. To the left, a patch of untamed earth stretches out, wild grass swaying lazily in the breeze. At its heart stands a towering banana tree, its broad leaves rustling with secrets of their own.

And there, in the silver glow of the moon, she appears. The lady in white.

She stands beside the banana tree, motionless yet unmistakably present. Her gaze drifts toward me now and then, but our exchanges are silent—devoid of words, of smiles, of anything beyond recognition.

As the years passed, I grew. And she faded.

Her presence became nothing more than an echo, slipping away into the folds of memory. Until now, she has remained a secret, locked away in the quiet corners of my heart.

Perhaps you have seen her too—crossing the threshold of your own existence, lingering just long enough to be remembered.

Prompt: You find yourself drawn to a presence that has always been there, just beyond the threshold of understanding. She does not speak, nor does she beckon—she only watches. Write about a figure from your past that lingers in the periphery of your memory, fading yet never truly gone.

January 31, 2025

existentialism, horror, mystery, supernatural
The Hollow Room

Trapped in a room where darkness breathes and silence lingers, the narrator wrestles with an unseen presence—a force that demands acknowledgment, a name, a place in reality. But denial is a form of defiance, and in the face of looming dread, the room itself becomes something more than just a prison. It becomes a sanctuary. A place of solitude. A battle between what is known and what refuses to be named.

What of the room? I find myself ensnared within its confines, swallowed whole by a darkness so complete it devours the edges of my vision. It is not merely a void—it breathes, festers, seeps into my skin. The air is thick with something unclean, something that does not belong. I cannot see it, yet I know it’s there.

Read moreBetween Shadows and Light
It lingers.

A silent observer, crouched just beyond the reach of my senses. Waiting. Time stretches thin, taut as a wire, vibrating with anticipation. I curl inward, small, trembling, as if I could will myself into nothingness. But it remains. Watching. Looming.

They say I must acknowledge it. Give it a name. Let it take shape.

I refuse.

This is not my fault. It never was.

The silence presses in, heavy, relentless. But I am not alone—not entirely. The room itself breathes with me, cradles me, shelters me. It does not demand, does not whisper, does not wait.

It is mine. My sanctuary.

Prompt: You awaken in a pitch-black room, aware of something watching. It doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, but you feel it—waiting. Do you acknowledge it, or do you fight to keep it nameless? Write about the tension of confronting the unknown, where fear and comfort intertwine.

January 31, 2025

fear, horror, introspection, isolation, serenity
Lightweight Computing: My Experience with the Raspberry Pi 5 and CrowView 14

As technology pushes toward ever more powerful and complex systems, there’s something refreshing about devices that prioritize efficiency over excess. In this exploration of the Raspberry Pi 5 and CrowView 14, I reflect on their strengths, limitations, and potential as tools for lightweight, portable computing. Is the Raspberry Pi 5 a game-changer? Can the CrowView 14 offer a seamless experience? Join me as I dive into the realities of these devices and what they mean for the future of simple yet powerful computing.

Today, I am nearing the completion of my Raspberry Pi 5 evaluation. While the journey had its challenges, the board ultimately proved functional, surpassing my experiences with the Raspberry Pi 2 and 3. With 16 GB of memory, the Raspberry Pi 5 is a powerful step forward, offering performance well beyond my initial expectations.

However, not all operating systems integrate seamlessly with it. Ubuntu OS, for instance, struggled with the Raspberry Pi 5’s SD card setup for my needs, and many software applications are not optimized for its ARM processor. Despite this, I remain hopeful about its future as a viable desktop system. In my experience, Raspbian OS remains the best choice for Raspberry Pi, offering a wide range of compatible software. Ubuntu has potential, but it needs significant improvements before it can rival Raspbian as the go-to OS for Raspberry Pi users.

My fascination with the Raspberry Pi lies in its compactness and portability. It provides just enough power for an average user like myself while remaining lightweight and adaptable. Transferring an operating system between Raspberry Pi boards is surprisingly simple, making it a flexible alternative to traditional laptops and compact PCs. Over the past three days, I’ve explored the Raspberry Pi 5 alongside the CrowView 14, a device that has added another layer of intrigue to my experience.

The CrowView 14 is an unusual piece of technology—a laptop without a built-in hard drive. Instead, it relies on external sources for its operating system, connecting via USB, HDMI, and mini HDMI. Its modest 5000mAh battery lasts about two hours during standard use, which suits my needs for writing and light tasks. Some may find its plastic build lacking in quality, but I appreciate the lightweight design that makes it ideal for travel.

One of the CrowView 14’s standout features is its ability to switch operating systems without requiring the user to remove or swap storage devices manually. This complements the Raspberry Pi’s SD card-based OS, allowing for a smooth and seamless experience. When paired with the Raspberry Pi 5, the CrowView 14 takes on a unique, almost experimental quality—some might even call it a Frankenstein-like setup. Yet, I find this unconventional approach charming in its simplicity.

For me, the true power of modern technology lies in efficiency. I have no interest in high-powered, resource-hungry systems. Instead, I value practicality—technology that meets my needs without excess. In a world overflowing with complexity, I choose simplicity. The Raspberry Pi 5 and CrowView 14 embody this philosophy, offering a streamlined, portable experience without unnecessary frills.

After days of testing, I can confidently say that the Raspberry Pi 5 is a significant step forward, and when paired with a device like the CrowView 14, it presents new possibilities for lightweight, efficient computing. While the road ahead for broader OS compatibility remains uncertain, the foundation is strong. As technology continues to evolve, I look forward to seeing how these tools shape the future of accessible and practical computing.

Prompt: Imagine a future where technology is designed for efficiency rather than excess. Write about a world where minimalism in computing becomes the standard rather than the exception. How does it change society, creativity, and personal technology habits?

January 31, 2025

CrowView14, Efficient Technology, Minimalist Computing, Portable Tech, RaspberryPi5
Into the Net

She thought it was just another carefree day until she saw the men with nets. A desperate chase through the trees and over streams unfolds, but her freedom is short-lived. Caught and thrown into the truck, she faces the grim reality of the animal pound.

She walked happily until she saw a man in a jacket labeled “Animal Catcher,” carrying a large net. Her heart raced.

Read moreWhere Shadows Wander
Crouching low, she slipped into the bushes. Quietly, she moved, then bolted from behind the trees. She sprinted to the stream, leaping from stone to stone across the water.

The catcher spotted her and gave chase. She jumped onto a trash can and vaulted over a wooden fence. Relief was brief—another man waited on the other side, net in hand.

The net snapped shut around her. Struggling was useless. The men tossed her into the truck, caged with others they had captured. The truck roared to life, heading for the pound.

Prompt: Write a story about a character trying to escape a relentless pursuer. Focus on the tension of the chase, the environment as a tool for escape, and the emotional impact of capture or freedom.

January 26, 2025

drama, freedom and captivity, survival, suspense
Sheep Among Wolves

In the shadowy corners of a bustling bar, a predator waits. Masked by the quiet dark, no one sees the hunger in their gaze or hears the silent promise of the hunt. As the night deepens and the cold bites, a single step into the storm seals a stranger’s fate.

I sat in the dark. No one could see how pale I was or how different. I heard their blood flowing, felt their ease as they drank and talked without fear.

Read moreDominion of the Inferno
I watched for the drunkest one, the easiest prey. The cold bit deeper tonight, and I craved warmth—life. They were lost sheep, unaware of the wolf among them.

The door creaked, the bell rang. Someone stepped into the storm alone. I followed.

He would be mine.

Prompt: Write a story from the perspective of a predator hiding among unsuspecting victims. Focus on the sensory details of the environment, the tension of waiting, and the psychology of the hunt.

January 26, 2025

horror, isolation, suspense
The Leap I Didn’t Take

Awakening atop a historic building, the narrator confronts an eerie stillness, shifting surroundings, and a disorienting sense of isolation. As sunrise reveals their predicament, choices between risk and hesitation unfold, leading to an unexpected encounter with strangers and a return to an uncertain path.

I woke early on a cold morning, confused and lost in thought. The words in my head felt jumbled, unusual, and unfamiliar.

Read moreBeneath the Ruins
The scene unfolded atop a historic building, a thousand years old. Reaching the summit had been simple, though I hated looking down. The nearby building loomed, its windows shut and walls a rusty brown, grooved from top to bottom. The air was still, the silence unsettling. I was alone.

The sunrise distracted me, its beauty overwhelming. Then, realization struck: I was lost. The way down had vanished. Searching brought no answers. A plank lay nearby—I threw it over the edge. It shattered on the ground below, silent and final. Climbing down seemed impossible, and the gap ahead felt too wide to jump.

The world shifted subtly, as if drawn by some odd force. I slept fitfully, anxiety gripping me. A sound woke me—voices. People surrounded me now, arriving by a path they’d made. A man nearby muttered to himself, just as I had earlier.

I left them, retracing my steps back to the start. I didn’t look back. Yes, I left them there.

Prompt: Write a story where a character finds themselves inexplicably trapped in a surreal environment. Explore their emotional journey as they seek an escape, confronting fears, decisions, and the presence of others who seem to mirror their struggles.

January 26, 2025

isolation, serenity, symbolism
Writing with Broken Truths

When the pen goes missing and the world keeps spinning its tales, one writer smashes through the facade, trading polish for raw, unfiltered truth. In a reality where everyone’s a hustler, this piece dares to make you bleed, feel, and wake up.

I sat down to spill my guts, but the pen was gone, probably off having a better life. The pull was there, though, like a siren singing to some poor bastard with a leaky boat. So I smashed my skull into the keyboard, and wouldn’t you know it—a half-decent piece of writing crawled out. Not great, not terrible, but it had teeth. And it was real.

Read moreSteps to Nowhere
Polished? Maybe a little. But let’s be honest—who’s throwing out the truth these days? Everyone’s busy spinning tales for the suckers, weaving dreams for people too blind to see the strings. I’ve seen the trick; hell, I’ve played it. It’s all a con, but a damn good one.

Don’t feed me that crap about writing needing to be pure, untouched, clean. That’s bullshit. Every piece of writing ought to cut, bruise, make you feel something. If it doesn’t, it’s a waste of time, paper, and whatever’s left of your soul. Wake up. The world’s a scam, and the only thing worth doing is finding a way to make it bleed.

Prompt: A writer grapples with the loss of their creative tool and discovers that raw honesty is sharper than any polished prose. Write a piece exploring the idea of writing as both a weapon and a wound—what happens when words cut deeper than they heal?

January 22, 2025

existentialism, raw prose, satirical writing, writing truth
Next Candidate, Please!

A brief encounter in a sterile interview room explores the essence of writing and self-expression. When asked who would care about their truth, the aspiring writer’s answer reveals a raw, personal philosophy about storytelling. Sometimes, the only audience we need is ourselves.

I went for an interview.

Read moreIn the Shadows, I Thrive
Interviewer (glancing at my resume with a raised eyebrow): So, you want to be a writer?
Me (sitting up straighter): Yes.
Interviewer: What do you write about?
Me: The truth.
Interviewer (leaning forward, intrigued): Whose truth?
Me: My truth.
Interviewer (pausing, then smirking): And who wants to read your truth?
Me (meeting their gaze, unwavering): Me.

For a moment, silence filled the room. The interviewer tapped their pen against the desk, the faint rhythm almost mocking. I sat still, clutching my notebook tightly, waiting for the verdict I already sensed.

Interviewer (leaning back in their chair, dismissive): Next candidate, please!

As I left, I couldn’t help but smile. They wouldn’t understand. But that was okay—my truth wasn’t theirs to validate.

Prompt: Write a short piece where a character defends their creative passion during a high-stakes interview. How do they articulate their vision, and does it win over their audience—or reveal something deeper about their motivation?

January 22, 2025

humor, personal truth, philosophical dialogue, writing responsibility