mimily

General

Psychological horror is my favorite kind of fear. Not the cheap jump scares, but the kind that gets inside your head and whispers there. Stories where the real monster is the human mind, where you can't trust what you're seeing, where the line between reality and delusion disappears. I love feeling unsettled in a way that makes me think. Interactive games are something I deeply appreciate. The ones where your choices matter, where the story bends around you and you have to live with the consequences. Games that make you feel like you're really inside the story, like your hands are on the wheel even when you're heading toward something terrible. There's something special about a story that needs you to exist. I'm always searching for intense stories. The kind that grab you by the throat and don't let go. Stories about obsession, about love that destroys, about people who want things so badly it ruins them. I don't want to be gently entertained, I want to be consumed. I want to finish something and just sit there, staring at nothing, trying to breathe. Mysteries are my weakness. Not the ones that get solved neatly at the end, but the ones that leave questions hanging. Cold cases, unsolved disappearances, things that don't have an explanation. I like the discomfort of not knowing. I like imagining all the possibilities, the dark ones and the stranger ones. I think a lot about fate and destiny. About whether things happen for a reason or if it's all just random. I wonder if the people who leave my life were supposed to leave, if the pain I've felt was leading me somewhere, if there's a pattern hidden in all the chaos. I don't need the answer, I just like sitting with the question. And symbolism... I see it everywhere. In movies, in music, in dreams, in the way strangers look at each other on the subway. I love decoding things, finding hidden meanings, believing that nothing is accidental. A bird outside my window, a recurring number, a song that plays at exactly the right moment. I want to believe the universe is trying to tell me something, even if I never fully understand what. These are the things that keep me up at night, in the best way possible.

Music

Music is like a diary for my emotions, and the artists I love most are the ones who put words to feelings I couldn't express myself. I'm a huge fan of Melanie Martinez, her storytelling and dark, childlike aesthetic are completely unique to her. Lana Del Rey feels like a whole mood I never want to leave; her music is cinematic, melancholic, and timeless. Mitski understands pain and longing in a way that cuts straight to the heart, and Alex G has this lo-fi, intimate sound that feels like a secret. I also adore beabadoobee for her soft, 90s-inspired grunge vibe, and Ichiko Aoba for her ethereal, gentle world-building. And yes, Insane Clown Posse, there's something so raw and theatrical about them that I genuinely appreciate. Deftones bring that heavy, dreamlike intensity that hits me every time. My music taste is all over the place, but every artist I love has one thing in common: they make me feel something real.

Movies

I've always been captivated by films that feel like dreams or sometimes, like beautiful nightmares. Alice in Wonderland (especially Tim Burton's version) is one of my favorites because of its whimsical, surreal world and its themes of identity and escape. I also love Big Eyes, the story of Margaret Keane and her hauntingly beautiful paintings really stayed with me. Gia, starring Angelina Jolie, is another film I hold close; it's heartbreaking and raw, showing the rise and fall of someone searching for love in all the wrong places. And Girl, Interrupted, that film speaks to me on a personal level. It captures the confusion, the pain, and the strange bonds formed between people who feel like they don't quite fit into the world. These movies feel like old friends, dark, beautiful, and deeply human.

Television

Books

There's something about a melancholic book that feels like coming home to myself. I love stories that don't shy away from sadness, the kind that sit with you long after you've turned the last page, like a quiet ache in your chest. One of my favorites is The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides. It has this dreamy, haunting atmosphere, the story of five sisters trapped in their own house, seen through the eyes of boys who can never really know them. It's beautiful and devastating. I also love A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara, even though it absolutely destroys me every time. It's a book about friendship, trauma, and love between four friends, but it's also about how some pain never really goes away. It's the kind of book that makes you feel everything. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro has that soft, heartbreaking quality too, a quiet dystopia about cloning and love and art, but really about accepting a life that was never fully yours to live. And of course, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Esther Greenwood's voice is so sharp and honest, and the way she describes slipping out of life, it's painfully relatable if you've ever felt like the world was moving on without you. There's also Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, a story about memory, loss, and first love, set to a soundtrack of Beatles songs. It's nostalgic in the most bittersweet way. Melancholic books, to me, feel like rainy afternoons and old photographs. They remind me that sadness can be soft, and that feeling deeply is not a weakness, it's just proof that I'm alive.

Heroes

My favorite heroines are Rogue from X Men and Raven from DC. I love them so much, both such powerful complex characters with dark sides and so much depth. And Deadpool? I mean, He's more like a chaotic neutral icon. But I love him anyway

TikTok

@mimilybr

Pinterest

@unkown_girl17

Spotify

Spotify