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I write queer love stories, rants about mental illness, and over-analysis of games and pop culture. Join my cult at www.gentlecult.com

ADJACENT, I said

‘Lo child!

I try to keep a grip on my urgent need to dissect other people, but you know how it is. You see an interesting new being just wandering around all vulnerable and unaffiliated with an eldritch cult and you just wanna pin ’em to a card and label their most arresting characteristics.

Things just fall apart when I look at them, somehow — objects disintegrate into the raw shapes that compose them, people fragment like mirror images into their facets and faces and masks, images dissolve into a riot of disassociated colors. My brain takes anything you give…


‘Lo child,

It’s been a rough one. I haven’t been terribly productive this week, but I tell you what I have produced in abundance — excuses! You have no idea how much time and effort it takes to come up with a good excuse; it’s basically the same as accomplishing things.

So what I’m going to do is distract you from my inactivity with a related but ultimately pointless story. The singing, dancing, jazz-hands excuse this time is that your beloved Personality (as in “cult of”) has a number of surplus parts rattling around in the heap of rusty machinery…


I saw you admiring your sister’s new homemade teeth…

‘Lo child!

I guess that by clicking that lil “subscribe” link, (there it is again quick catch it before it escapes) you’ve demonstrated an ability to appreciate the kind of macabre stuff I tend to enjoy. Not everybody gets it. But I come by it honest! My aesthetic pedigree was none of my doing, but it had a very specific bent.

My stepfather sculpts in ceramic and draws album covers for black metal bands. He’s always done a lot of teeth, for some reason — we all have our artistic obsessions. From the bathroom counter at my parents’ house:

It’s…


‘Lo child!

These 3D models have kind of taken over the place around here, haven’t they?

If that kind of thing isn’t as interesting to you as the other nonsense I get up to, let me assure you that I am assiduously browbeating myself each and every day on your behalf to write and draw more. There’s a new chapter of Shadowplay out, specifically and especially for you, the three people left in the world who want to read a chapter book released in installments. But for the moment, this is the project that is setting my brain on fire:


Dissociative musings on suicidal depression and stumbling toward mental health

Actaeon’s Revenge — Gentle Zacharias, Sept. 2019

The stories in this series involve me being unusually frank and graphic about some fucked-up stuff, and therefore have the following blanket content warnings:

  • Child abuse
  • Self-harm and suicide
  • Violence
  • Drug abuse
  • Mental illness
  • Sexual assault and rape
  • A shit-ton of swears

I’ve never wanted to die.

I know that’s hard to believe, coming as it does after thousands of words about my suicidal ideation. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s not really about wanting to die, exactly.

There are a lot of resources for survivors of suicide and their families. We don’t hear from the suicidal folks themselves…


They’re piling up

‘Lo child!

We’re just knee-deep in anklebiters here, which as you can imagine is very hazardous for the lower extremities. One of those things they don’t tell you about the post-apocalypse is how many unattached kids you’ll notice roaming around, just stray children whose parents are still trying to pretend the world hasn’t ended.

Like all the rest of us, today’s kids are unable to count on the structures and institutions they were told were inviolate. They can’t assume that any adult knows what they’re doing, or can protect them from harm, or will tell them the truth. They can…


Erry day I’m sucklin’?

‘Lo children,

I don’t have to tell you that a cult is a parasitic organism. What distinguishes a parasite from other forms of infection is that the parasite wishes to keep its host alive, the better to extract nutrition in the long-term. A parasite strives, ideally, to be minimally destructive, unobtrusive, and encourage its host to seek out more nutrients they can share.

I’ve tried in these pages to demonstrate the parasitic nature of our media culture, to an extent — that’s what Sects is about — but I think it’s equally important to make clear how hypocritical any such…


What were you thinking while being raped?

Content warning: sexual assault, obviously. Some discussion of suicidal ideation and alcoholism.

This is the kind of question we have the dubious pleasure of asking one another these days. On the one hand, it’s good that we can talk about this stuff in public now! On the other, I’m not glad that most of us have an answer to that question.

I read this excellent piece today, and then I sat for a while, trying not to cry at work, trying to remember what went through my head while he went through my clothes. Trying to figure out what bent…


Tiny, tiny viscera

‘Lo child,

After a couple of hectic weeks, the Gentle Cult is back at work, and you know what that means, kids — that means viscera!

This is a Doppleganger from Malifaux, and she’s never stood up on her base like she should — she broke off at the ankles real early on and has broken again every time I’ve tried to fix it.

But I like a girl with weak ankles, so I decided to sculpt her a bit of support. Since she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no skin, I figured she probably should be standing…


Musings on suicidal depression and stumbling toward mental health

The stories in this series contain a lot of frank discussion of fucked-up things, and so have the following blanket content warnings:

  • Child abuse
  • Self-harm and suicide
  • Violence
  • Drug abuse
  • Mental illness
  • Sexual assault and rape
  • A shit-ton of swears

Let me know if this is a generational thing for other kids from the early to mid 80s, that Elder Millennial sub-generation that had Ataris but not cell phones as a kid — were you also required to be emotionally self-sufficient from birth? It was very important that I not burden my elders with my issues, it seemed. They were…

Gentle Zacharias

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