I feel like my life's just out of reach, but how do you grasp something you only see out of the corner of your eye?

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Life in six paragraphs

I guess lately, I'm more torn to what is happening to other people than to myself of late.  All in all, it's probably for the best.  I'm worried about others, and while there's no real sphere of influence, and the selection of people I know is rather limited right now, I'm going to try to make some more headway.  I think I'll start with those of you who already know me,  I need to learn your stories, your issues at hand if I'm going to actually have people I can trust.

My name is Caden Chambers, I awoke from a coma months ago, only to suspect my life was a lie.  In a fit of horror and rage, I took out my frustrations upon the woman claiming to be my girlfriend, but not before being burned by the same pot I used to brutalize her, as the Faceless creature we call the Slender Man watched.

I found clothes buried in my closet that evoked a very specific person to my mind, the clothes that a number of people have seen Redlight wear.   Redlight, this guy, was something else.  He was everywhere at times, he played dark games, and he always was a step ahead of those of us just trying to eke out a life.  Some claimed he 'bodysurfed' from person to person, that he was an intelligence, but nothing more.  Some said he could move faster than we could blink, stepping into some hidden realm that only those with the know-how and the willpower can visit.  They call it the Path of Black Leaves,  some strange otherworld where this creature may be from.   I don't know, myself.  I do feel a certain nostalgia towards Redlight, even if his path was not the same as mine.  I'm no cunning bastard, but I was part of him, I think.  

See, back months ago, this guy called Nick Dwyer, or Amalgamation Sage, had a little chat with the psycho, and tried to 'undo' this bodysurfing.  It's pretty fucking surreal, but I guess this is the world in which we live.  I won't claim to understand it, but what I find interesting is the timing of it.   He tried to limit Redlight's options in the world, by forcing him to have a sole host.   This was the time frame in which I was found comatose.  This lead me to believe that I was one of those people 'freed', I guess for lack of a better term.

I donned the persona, desperate to forget who I was, I just wanted to be someone else, and to emulate someone hated and feared, well, I liked the idea of getting such respect, such trepidation.  I quickly found out I couldn't handle it, I couldn't be this guy, because unlike him, I never reached that magical moment in which my life was mindless laughter and slaughter.  I was still stalked by the fucker.

So it was about then that I met Sufjan, who I felt taunted me about my girlfriend's murder.  I lost my shit, and kicked the crap out of him, even being dickless enough to try to bribe that Faceless thing into taking him, if he'd leave me be.   Sufjan lived, thank god, and we were back to square one.

I found out about a few other blogs, and started reading Spencer's blog.  Now, admittedly I haven't read it all, because there's a shit ton of people talking on it, but I see where its gone now.  A last stand between two people, one of them fallen.  I suppose that's the best word.

I seen in Spencer what I see in myself,  he's had the worst kind of shit happen to him, and tried to make the best of it.  I can sympathize.  He's failing horribly.  Again, I can sympathize.  Its actually fucking painful to read his words now, because as much as I hate it, all I fucking see is what happens to people at the end.  The people that really didn't WANT to go apeshit.

I saw some older stuff, people talking about roles and stories.  I think I've figured something out.  Everything was about a Hero, or even (Hero) as it was written.  And that's the thing,  we have us a monster but no savior.  Why can't we have one person insusceptible to this nausea and terror?  We need someone to look up to, we just need one person out there who can say, "We can beat this thing, and god willing, we'll live again."

I don't think I can be this person. 


  1. Now, your title is probably a reference to something, but just because I'm pedantic, I'll point out that this is 9 paragraphs.
    And I've seen plenty of folks who are all hopeful like that. Then they die. Allegedly, that is. I always have to wonder if you lot are really dying or just assuming new identities to play the game again.

    1. what sort of sick fuck'd try that shit?

      meh, and the recap itself is 6 paragraphs, boyo. So you know, there you go.

  2. Another lost member of the pack. Isn't it absolutely heartbreaking when the collective splinters off to die pathetic deaths? And yet, people still resist their old roles. It's a pointless struggle, Mr. Chambers, but don't worry. I'm still willing to give you back meaning.

    Guess who the Mongrel became.

    1. That will be apparent in due time. It's better this way, don't you think? But know that I have my eye on you, Mr. Chambers. I suggest you keep one eye open.

      Or not. That just makes this all much easier.

    2. Okay I'm not sure I'm sufficient Runner material to deserve my own proxy following me. I have always felt I sort of straddled the line, but I suppose I'm floating to one side, so whatever, its in the manual I guess.

      Second, where the hell were you when I *was* all trying to find out what I was supposed to do, back when I gave up, bawling my fucking eyes out at the feet of a living terror, just begging for someone to show me how to live without the trauma?

      You were nowhere, you ass. No support, not even a single fucking word. Fuck. You.