I've been hooked up now. My own little functioning place. TV, bed, food, gamecube. I've forgotten most of these things, damn it felt good.
No mindscrews from the thing either. Haven't even seen it. Maybe its due to being back on my meds. Gives me a great sense of comfort at least. I take them and I just don't stress. Not even when nature calls and I have to, well....look at what is left of me. Its unnerving right now, but when I'm doped up, life is almost decent.
Until he shows.
He still doesn't tell me much, I think he's just expecting me to do things. If I am following him somewhere, he just turns his head towards me, subtly, expecting me to do something.
I don't even know these people, and Spencer's certainly not one to tell me what is happening. Two days ago, he had me tag along with him. He just stood there, looked at me, then turned expecting to leave. That look, it is a whip across my back, I nearly leapt out of my spot just to keep him from getting any worse.
Anything to keep from it getting worse.
He took me along that place, the Path, they call it. It is...well, depending on if I've had my meds or not, its either mind numbing horrific, or unpleasant.
There's this road obviously, a beaten trail, like in grass. All about you there's something a lot like wind. It comes from any direction, making you wince from the pressure. The leaves are carried on the wind, naturally. They are strangely soft, almost like cotton. I kept one from the travel but it either disappeared or got lost.
The scale of the place is very weird too, it reminds me of those 2.5D games where you'd walk and walk, and whatever was in the distance only moved a little. It was like the perspective was clumsy, I guess. The gigantic tree in the background didn't help matters. Half the time I heard labored breathing on the wind, but never saw whatever made the noise.
Anyway, we make it through, not so much that we do anything different, just that he stops, and I stop, and we're not there anymore, as if everything melted away.
No idea where we were, and I wasn't going to ask. I just knew we were in some apartment complex, a hallway somewhere. He opened a door, and some guy inside apparently recognized him, because he got panicked real fast. He apologized for something, he found himself in the corner of his apartment, just by Redlight walking towards him, quietly herding him there.
And then he looked at me, then quietly stepped aside.
I didn't know what to do, but I stepped up.
This guy, just some guy with glasses and dark hair was weeping for his life in front of me. When he got a good look at me, he just gasped.
He feared me. It was as if death had come for him.
It felt so good, to have that power, to be in control.
He did something wrong. I didn't care what it was. He lost control of the situation, and it was all mine.
I...don't feel like continuing right now.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Under his watchful eye
Had a few days after that last post to sit and figure things out. Sure I've sort of rushed into something here, but really I don't see any other choice for me.
That said, dealing with the devil in a red hoodie isn't going to be fun. I've only seen him once so far. He just showed up for a bit, gave me some money, a cell and a charger, and said something cryptic about work to do soon. I asked him to tell me what's going on, to at least know what I am supposed to do. He just gave me a look that I remember far too well, and suddenly I didn't give a damn anymore about what was to be done. I did manage to ask for those anti psychotics that I had before, because holy shit I need them nowadays. He relented to that, not that he had them on hand, but he seemed confident he'd get ahold of them for me.
Then he left. Just disappearing into thin air, he'd take a step, and suddenly not be there anymore. Much like someone else I know. I know *what* happens, but I don't know how it happens. I understand this Path stuff, I've read enough to get that there's a place that people can walk into if they know how.
I don't know how it happens, or what you have to do, nor what it looks like there. I admit, its a neat trick, its majorly fucked up to consider that there's people out there who can effectively motherfucking teleport, but I guess when you're exposed to supernatural shit after a while it rubs off. I've read about people trying to go toe to toe with the monster, or surviving utterly deadly moments, even claiming to do magic of some sort.
I don't know how I feel about all this, but I'm sick of being helpless, I'm sick of the stares on the street. At least today, I could afford to eat. Bought myself some gloves but I don't like wearing them. It doesn't feel right, and I use that term loosely, since I can't really feel anything in my hands.
On the bright side, I haven't seen anything that I shouldn't. I managed to sleep for three hours as well. I have to say, there's a strange sense of security now that things are 'official'.
I wouldn't say things are looking up, but damn if I didn't enjoy a pizza, some soda and a night of fucking rest. I wonder if this is part of the gimmick, being a bad guy. Not having to deal with horrors anymore, not running for my damn life every day.
I'm sure things are bound to get worse, but today I can almost smile...
That said, dealing with the devil in a red hoodie isn't going to be fun. I've only seen him once so far. He just showed up for a bit, gave me some money, a cell and a charger, and said something cryptic about work to do soon. I asked him to tell me what's going on, to at least know what I am supposed to do. He just gave me a look that I remember far too well, and suddenly I didn't give a damn anymore about what was to be done. I did manage to ask for those anti psychotics that I had before, because holy shit I need them nowadays. He relented to that, not that he had them on hand, but he seemed confident he'd get ahold of them for me.
Then he left. Just disappearing into thin air, he'd take a step, and suddenly not be there anymore. Much like someone else I know. I know *what* happens, but I don't know how it happens. I understand this Path stuff, I've read enough to get that there's a place that people can walk into if they know how.
I don't know how it happens, or what you have to do, nor what it looks like there. I admit, its a neat trick, its majorly fucked up to consider that there's people out there who can effectively motherfucking teleport, but I guess when you're exposed to supernatural shit after a while it rubs off. I've read about people trying to go toe to toe with the monster, or surviving utterly deadly moments, even claiming to do magic of some sort.
I don't know how I feel about all this, but I'm sick of being helpless, I'm sick of the stares on the street. At least today, I could afford to eat. Bought myself some gloves but I don't like wearing them. It doesn't feel right, and I use that term loosely, since I can't really feel anything in my hands.
On the bright side, I haven't seen anything that I shouldn't. I managed to sleep for three hours as well. I have to say, there's a strange sense of security now that things are 'official'.
I wouldn't say things are looking up, but damn if I didn't enjoy a pizza, some soda and a night of fucking rest. I wonder if this is part of the gimmick, being a bad guy. Not having to deal with horrors anymore, not running for my damn life every day.
I'm sure things are bound to get worse, but today I can almost smile...
Friday, June 8, 2012
Through the cracks
Some of us don't get the easier path. I know, I know, there's no real easy road for the Stalked, but there is an easier path.
People who find solace with others, people who they can count on. Whether it be the kinship formed of necessity, or a relationship that got interfered with, there are those out there who can come together when needed.
Hell, there's people out there who drive halfway across the country to save some poor fucker.
Takes guts.
Some of us don't get that luxury. Some of us fall through the cracks. I get that, I mean, its bound to happen. Not everyone can be saved, not everyone finds a team to help.
Which is why I don't feel bad at all. Because we all have hard choices to make. Because when it comes down to it, we stand alone at one point or another.
I am so damn tired of being alone, I haven't had a real conversation in months, I haven't FELT anything in weeks.
Its horrible, yeah...It really is. The same guy who did such things.
and I'll still throw anyone under a bus to get away, to get gone.
because I'm not really one of you guys, you Runner types.
And I'll do what I have to do. Because its the only way I can survive.
I'll take solace with the only one who offered me a hand.
IF
IF
so many ifs
If he can find a way to keep that thing away from me
IF I can get my necessities met. I haven't had a decent meal in months, or a bed at least. Clothes I don't care about. I'll never take off what I'm wearing. I'll NEVER see what is left of me.
IF I'm not alone anymore
IF
If
if
if I can be human again
if just for a little while.
god help me
People who find solace with others, people who they can count on. Whether it be the kinship formed of necessity, or a relationship that got interfered with, there are those out there who can come together when needed.
Hell, there's people out there who drive halfway across the country to save some poor fucker.
Takes guts.
Some of us don't get that luxury. Some of us fall through the cracks. I get that, I mean, its bound to happen. Not everyone can be saved, not everyone finds a team to help.
Which is why I don't feel bad at all. Because we all have hard choices to make. Because when it comes down to it, we stand alone at one point or another.
I am so damn tired of being alone, I haven't had a real conversation in months, I haven't FELT anything in weeks.
Its horrible, yeah...It really is. The same guy who did such things.
and I'll still throw anyone under a bus to get away, to get gone.
because I'm not really one of you guys, you Runner types.
And I'll do what I have to do. Because its the only way I can survive.
I'll take solace with the only one who offered me a hand.
IF
IF
so many ifs
If he can find a way to keep that thing away from me
IF I can get my necessities met. I haven't had a decent meal in months, or a bed at least. Clothes I don't care about. I'll never take off what I'm wearing. I'll NEVER see what is left of me.
IF I'm not alone anymore
IF
If
if
if I can be human again
if just for a little while.
god help me
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Running on fumes
I'm going back on the road. I don't know where I am, don't care where I'm going. I need to get out. I'm sick of burns, I'm sick of atrophy, sick of looking at myself, but I don't really have any choice in the matter.
I'll just be some horrible looking fucker trying to escape this shit.
I'll write more when I figure out what I have to do, not that anyone's really reading nowadays. Whatever.
nothing matters anyway
I'll just be some horrible looking fucker trying to escape this shit.
I'll write more when I figure out what I have to do, not that anyone's really reading nowadays. Whatever.
nothing matters anyway
Thursday, May 31, 2012
There's not much to say. I just sit here again, in another hospital bed again, without much to do or see. So I've been reading and trying to figure out where I am.
I have no clue.
My room looks sort of shabby, 2nd ratye even. There's a hallway, but there's no movement, there's food but I don't know who brings it.
I can stand again I
no, it doesnt matter just a freak it i just have nthing and i cant do this
dont even think
theres anything left of me now
all i can sleml is just gasoline that smell
so stupid had to prove my life
wanted freedom, and now
just charred
monster
just so afraid
even like this so afraid of dying
i dont know why
dont even kno what to do anymore
just suffer
suffer
I have no clue.
My room looks sort of shabby, 2nd ratye even. There's a hallway, but there's no movement, there's food but I don't know who brings it.
I can stand again I
no, it doesnt matter just a freak it i just have nthing and i cant do this
dont even think
theres anything left of me now
all i can sleml is just gasoline that smell
so stupid had to prove my life
wanted freedom, and now
just charred
monster
just so afraid
even like this so afraid of dying
i dont know why
dont even kno what to do anymore
just suffer
suffer
Monday, May 28, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Human nature is interesting. One would think that, when trying to assert identity, a person would go on the defensive, attempting to protect themselves in whichever way they could. One would think that one would try their best to avoid outside stimuli, for fear of their makeshift walls suddenly not being able to hold back the flood of disillusionment. Denial. Confusion. Pride. And eventual downfall; It’s happened so many times that it’s a wonder that there are still some on the opposing side of this little game.
How many losses does it take for a group to figure out they’re not going to win…?
I suppose that’s why Mr. Chamber’s –my apologies, Caden’s- little “challenge” proved so fascinating. And though I suppose I can understand why he’d do such a thing –losing your place in the so called “pecking order” must be truly traumatic indeed, I simply went to inform Caden that such behaviours would not be tolerated.
After all, there is no pecking order for our mutual friend anymore.
Not when you serve him.
Not when you belong to me.
What Caden never realized was that it was physically impossible for him to not play my game. I can’t possibly fault him for trying; the field was his, albeit only because I was kind enough to give him that option. The location he offered, the seemingly abandoned garage of a deserted country home, was a good choice. Fairly well lit, but with plenty of makeshift weapons, vantage points and shadows. Not a bad spot for an ambush, and I was sure to make a note of that.
The only access point was through a wrecked car, which was a nice touch. Enclosed spaces are always dangerous to be confined in, and Caden seemed to be making the best of the situation, because the second I was inside, various heavy objects instantly blocked my access and exit points.
The man I made eye contact with as he doused the hood of the vehicle with gasoline was a broken one; somehow both manic and calm at the same time, filled with both murderous intent and fear, longing for my place and loathing for what one must be to get there… And so when the blowtorch in his hands was ignited moments later, I only continued to observe him.
The gasoline started to ignite. For a split second, there was only us two and the flames as company.
I must admit, from there I was slightly disappointed. There was nothing else. No second phase, no backup plan, no incredible turn of events that would leave me in awe of his abilities. There was only silence on my part and a thin shred of hope on his.
Hope that I needed to crush
Wishful thinking. That is what I assume Caden was cursing as I struck him from behind, the only thing left in my wake being a fluttering black leaf.
As I gazed down on him, bandages ripped away from his own fingers, I could see what he was so desperate to hide; how burned he was from that boiling water, the heated pot he held as he beat that woman to death…
The gasoline started to trickle in a puddle near him, under him, not yet consumed by the spreading flames,
And I decided to see how much a pawn needed to be burnt until it learned its place.
There are no happy endings. There is no matter of chance or co-incidence. Your rival won’t show up in a pinch, and you won’t gain a skill at the brink of death. No, the strongest will always win, and the weak will always submit. Anyone that says otherwise is lying.
You all have the chance to walk beside me. It’s something I suggest you consider.
After all, you don’t have much of an alternative, now do you?
Regards,
Redlight
How many losses does it take for a group to figure out they’re not going to win…?
I suppose that’s why Mr. Chamber’s –my apologies, Caden’s- little “challenge” proved so fascinating. And though I suppose I can understand why he’d do such a thing –losing your place in the so called “pecking order” must be truly traumatic indeed, I simply went to inform Caden that such behaviours would not be tolerated.
After all, there is no pecking order for our mutual friend anymore.
Not when you serve him.
Not when you belong to me.
What Caden never realized was that it was physically impossible for him to not play my game. I can’t possibly fault him for trying; the field was his, albeit only because I was kind enough to give him that option. The location he offered, the seemingly abandoned garage of a deserted country home, was a good choice. Fairly well lit, but with plenty of makeshift weapons, vantage points and shadows. Not a bad spot for an ambush, and I was sure to make a note of that.
The only access point was through a wrecked car, which was a nice touch. Enclosed spaces are always dangerous to be confined in, and Caden seemed to be making the best of the situation, because the second I was inside, various heavy objects instantly blocked my access and exit points.
The man I made eye contact with as he doused the hood of the vehicle with gasoline was a broken one; somehow both manic and calm at the same time, filled with both murderous intent and fear, longing for my place and loathing for what one must be to get there… And so when the blowtorch in his hands was ignited moments later, I only continued to observe him.
The gasoline started to ignite. For a split second, there was only us two and the flames as company.
I must admit, from there I was slightly disappointed. There was nothing else. No second phase, no backup plan, no incredible turn of events that would leave me in awe of his abilities. There was only silence on my part and a thin shred of hope on his.
Hope that I needed to crush
Wishful thinking. That is what I assume Caden was cursing as I struck him from behind, the only thing left in my wake being a fluttering black leaf.
As I gazed down on him, bandages ripped away from his own fingers, I could see what he was so desperate to hide; how burned he was from that boiling water, the heated pot he held as he beat that woman to death…
The gasoline started to trickle in a puddle near him, under him, not yet consumed by the spreading flames,
And I decided to see how much a pawn needed to be burnt until it learned its place.
There are no happy endings. There is no matter of chance or co-incidence. Your rival won’t show up in a pinch, and you won’t gain a skill at the brink of death. No, the strongest will always win, and the weak will always submit. Anyone that says otherwise is lying.
You all have the chance to walk beside me. It’s something I suggest you consider.
After all, you don’t have much of an alternative, now do you?
Regards,
Redlight
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Up a creek
Alright, so surprise, surprise, I fucked up again. Don't care.
Don't care about nothin really. Gonna die free when I go out. All you fuckers can kiss my burnt ass for all I care. Alright, some of you. Some of you guys have been sorta cool, despite me constantly losing my shit. So, yeah thanks.
I guess this is sorta cathartic though, in the long run. Fuckin Spencer was the guy I saw myself in the same shoes as. So, after I wreck his shit, I guess we'll see what should've happened to him, you know, not giving in to lunacy or whatever the hell verbage I can use for MOTHERFUCKING SHITSTORM OF FUCKED UP.
I gotta do this. I'm psyched. And tomorrow, I get to know what its like to be free, no longer weighed down by my own worries, this heavy weight that I've put upon myself, being a progeny of Redlight. The REAL one, not this half-baked shit.
Lookin forward to it. Lookin forward to moving on finally.
Stay frosty, and thanks.
Don't care about nothin really. Gonna die free when I go out. All you fuckers can kiss my burnt ass for all I care. Alright, some of you. Some of you guys have been sorta cool, despite me constantly losing my shit. So, yeah thanks.
I guess this is sorta cathartic though, in the long run. Fuckin Spencer was the guy I saw myself in the same shoes as. So, after I wreck his shit, I guess we'll see what should've happened to him, you know, not giving in to lunacy or whatever the hell verbage I can use for MOTHERFUCKING SHITSTORM OF FUCKED UP.
I gotta do this. I'm psyched. And tomorrow, I get to know what its like to be free, no longer weighed down by my own worries, this heavy weight that I've put upon myself, being a progeny of Redlight. The REAL one, not this half-baked shit.
Lookin forward to it. Lookin forward to moving on finally.
Stay frosty, and thanks.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
ITS FUCKING SPENCER.
Oh that's fucking perfect, the same asshole who I saw hit a bit close to home, takes advantage of that and fucks with me even further. That's just great. Is that why you are playing that role now, to get to me? Why fucking bother, I'm just one dude. What is it you want from me, huh?
Why am I even asking.
Oh that's fucking perfect, the same asshole who I saw hit a bit close to home, takes advantage of that and fucks with me even further. That's just great. Is that why you are playing that role now, to get to me? Why fucking bother, I'm just one dude. What is it you want from me, huh?
Why am I even asking.
just dont want to
I don't want to write lately. It feels wrong. Its like...I guess, I'm ashamed of shit. This talk about a Redlight, it keeps making me think about how stupid I've been at times. I know, I know, I've hashed over that a thousand times already, and thats all there is to say..
I've gotten a nice number of comments at times, during this little blog adventure of mine. Be yourself, you don't have to let anyone be in control except you. Stuff like that. Its appreciated...
but I still feel strings attached. Its like, there's something I need to overcome before I can really be done with all this. I know it sounds stupid, and sure, probably is, but I want to be free. Its like...all I have right now. The idea that I can make my own choices. I won't wax philosophical about illusions, you hear that term a lot, and I won't say make an allusion that the monster is control or something.
I just want to know, that if I'm going out, at least I have some choice in how it goes. That's pretty simple, right? Pretty stupid I imagine, but not much else to go for. And maybe....I can get something done that'd be cool too.
So, you pretentious, cut-rate fuck. Calling me your property, acting all non-nonchalant and all mighty from behind your computer screen. Just LOVING that anonymity and perfect verbatim that only the internet can bring.
You want a shot at me?
here's your chance
5/4/12 at 10:00 PM
If I see you show up early, I'm gone. I see you've brought friends, I'm gone. Anything that even LOOKS like you setting a trap, I'm gone. And your little lectures will be for nothing, because you can't take me on, on my terms. Maybe you'll hunt me down, maybe you'll off me, since I'll obviously be close by at some point in time. But at least I'll die knowing I can defy a bitter, psychopath piece of shit, that likes to PRETEND to play mind games, but can't step up to the plate for real.
Your move.
I've gotten a nice number of comments at times, during this little blog adventure of mine. Be yourself, you don't have to let anyone be in control except you. Stuff like that. Its appreciated...
but I still feel strings attached. Its like, there's something I need to overcome before I can really be done with all this. I know it sounds stupid, and sure, probably is, but I want to be free. Its like...all I have right now. The idea that I can make my own choices. I won't wax philosophical about illusions, you hear that term a lot, and I won't say make an allusion that the monster is control or something.
I just want to know, that if I'm going out, at least I have some choice in how it goes. That's pretty simple, right? Pretty stupid I imagine, but not much else to go for. And maybe....I can get something done that'd be cool too.
So, you pretentious, cut-rate fuck. Calling me your property, acting all non-nonchalant and all mighty from behind your computer screen. Just LOVING that anonymity and perfect verbatim that only the internet can bring.
You want a shot at me?
here's your chance
5/4/12 at 10:00 PM
If I see you show up early, I'm gone. I see you've brought friends, I'm gone. Anything that even LOOKS like you setting a trap, I'm gone. And your little lectures will be for nothing, because you can't take me on, on my terms. Maybe you'll hunt me down, maybe you'll off me, since I'll obviously be close by at some point in time. But at least I'll die knowing I can defy a bitter, psychopath piece of shit, that likes to PRETEND to play mind games, but can't step up to the plate for real.
Your move.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
cannot believe this shit
Alright Fucker. What did you do?
Seems real coincidental to me, that I'd be in the middle of a damn post, and I get interrupted by IT.
Maybe I'm giving you too much credit, but when a goddamn window explodes, and sends people into a panic, and me into a fucking dead run, there's something going on.
Was just typing my shit, was so damn stupid to type then, it was right there, too damn close. I desperately wanted my solace and it fucking shattered the window. I sent the log up before I even looked, I knew something went wrong, and I haul ass out of there. I glance out of one of the side windows, and its there. The glass shatters again, and then the next. All I have is just like a second or so ahead, just running as fast as I can.
Now I'm a mad sprinter, have had way too much training of late, for all the good it did me. Turned a corner, it was there, I bolt the other direction, it appears somewhere else. Never see it moving 'in', its just always there. I go out in traffic, hoping to catch a bus or something, and nothing. This thing was on. my. ass, and I was getting exhausted. No money for taxi fare, not stealin a damn car, can't even figure out how to hotwire, but I keep moving, and it starts showing up slower... I don't think I was actually outrunning it, but maybe it was getting bored, whatever. When I got worn down and tired as hell, thats when it stopped. I was dead meat, and it just gives up. Who the fuck does that? Unless they're making a point.
So, Fine. I don't believe you had anything to do with this, but whatever, its obvious, you want a go.
I'm not part of your bullshit, wannabee.
Seems real coincidental to me, that I'd be in the middle of a damn post, and I get interrupted by IT.
Maybe I'm giving you too much credit, but when a goddamn window explodes, and sends people into a panic, and me into a fucking dead run, there's something going on.
Was just typing my shit, was so damn stupid to type then, it was right there, too damn close. I desperately wanted my solace and it fucking shattered the window. I sent the log up before I even looked, I knew something went wrong, and I haul ass out of there. I glance out of one of the side windows, and its there. The glass shatters again, and then the next. All I have is just like a second or so ahead, just running as fast as I can.
Now I'm a mad sprinter, have had way too much training of late, for all the good it did me. Turned a corner, it was there, I bolt the other direction, it appears somewhere else. Never see it moving 'in', its just always there. I go out in traffic, hoping to catch a bus or something, and nothing. This thing was on. my. ass, and I was getting exhausted. No money for taxi fare, not stealin a damn car, can't even figure out how to hotwire, but I keep moving, and it starts showing up slower... I don't think I was actually outrunning it, but maybe it was getting bored, whatever. When I got worn down and tired as hell, thats when it stopped. I was dead meat, and it just gives up. Who the fuck does that? Unless they're making a point.
So, Fine. I don't believe you had anything to do with this, but whatever, its obvious, you want a go.
I'm not part of your bullshit, wannabee.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
I've got faith
REAL FUCKING WEIRD HEARING THAT.
Gargoyle said that, last time I posted. 'got faith in you.'
Damn, that's weird. I mean, thanks, I guess, but holy shit, I've barely spoken to the dude. Heh I remember getting pissed at him for doin cosplay. Fuckin unbelievable.
Whatever. Back to the matter at hand.
Guess who the fuck has been on my tail last three days, as far as I can tell, non motherfucking stop?
Its not my troll.
Yeah.
I hate to give this guy credit, but I have been running like my hair is on fire these past few days. Its worse than its ever been. I mean, its outside the library right now, I can SEE him. RIGHT. NOW. And that's scary belyond all reason, that there's three other people here, just playin solitare or reading email, and its right outside the window. Maybe twenty feet away.
I am worn ragged, and I don't want to give credit as I said, but I wonder if this is sort of....related.
Earlier today I threw a rock at it. Missed. Probably for the best. I don't want to antagonize
oh fuck that I do want to antagonize, but I'm not so fucking stupid to rush into hand to whatever its got to
Gargoyle said that, last time I posted. 'got faith in you.'
Damn, that's weird. I mean, thanks, I guess, but holy shit, I've barely spoken to the dude. Heh I remember getting pissed at him for doin cosplay. Fuckin unbelievable.
Whatever. Back to the matter at hand.
Guess who the fuck has been on my tail last three days, as far as I can tell, non motherfucking stop?
Its not my troll.
Yeah.
I hate to give this guy credit, but I have been running like my hair is on fire these past few days. Its worse than its ever been. I mean, its outside the library right now, I can SEE him. RIGHT. NOW. And that's scary belyond all reason, that there's three other people here, just playin solitare or reading email, and its right outside the window. Maybe twenty feet away.
I am worn ragged, and I don't want to give credit as I said, but I wonder if this is sort of....related.
Earlier today I threw a rock at it. Missed. Probably for the best. I don't want to antagonize
oh fuck that I do want to antagonize, but I'm not so fucking stupid to rush into hand to whatever its got to
Friday, April 20, 2012
because
because he's dead.
because he died.
because some little girl managed to do a shitton more than me, and resisted whatever the hell he does.
did. What he did.
I'm not a full on expert on the subject, but I've done my homework. When this Almaga...Amalgamation Sage showed up to argue with whoever this is, I wasn't surprised. They've met. In some form or another, at least. Given the fucked up shit I've read on his blog, well, I don't know what's going on with him.
But I *do* know what's going on with you, faker.
Heh, I sounded like Shadow a bit there.
Here's the point. I was at the spot you were, man. I threw it all away, I wanted it done, I wanted it just to be mother fucking over. I couldn't take the stress, the strain, the weird feeling I get whenever its nearby, like a mental scream that reminds me its unnatural, like a natural instinct upon seeing a snake or spider, we have learned to avoid and fear poisonous animals.....fuck I'm getting off topic.
You want to be someone you're not. You want to hide. Yeah, I get that. I hide. I've done it mentally, and I do it physically too. Motherfuckin walkin round covered up, bandaged up, so no one can go 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' Sure they stare, but I know WHY they stare, and that's alright. I wear the gear, sure. It used to feel 'cool' I guess at first, I was pretending, like you, to be someone in control, in charge. Fuck it felt good, I would imagine people pissin their pants when I showed, because I was the fuckin show, and the spotlight was set.
I don't know if you were done dirty like me, I don't know if you're some guy on the edge, lookin for a personality that ain't his. I don't know if you're just a mother. fuckin. troll. gettin his rocks off on other people's grief. Maybe in that way, you ARE him. There's a reason pictures of Redlight show him with a troll face. But that's ALL you are.
I found it frustrating, hell I was motherfuckin catatonic for a bit. The idea of being on a string, dancing to another's tune. It haunts me, I'm not ashamed. I don't want to be a plaything for noodle arms, for the Faceless. I. Won't. Be. Yours.
Talk your trash, all you're getting from me is an ass kicking.
because he died.
because some little girl managed to do a shitton more than me, and resisted whatever the hell he does.
did. What he did.
I'm not a full on expert on the subject, but I've done my homework. When this Almaga...Amalgamation Sage showed up to argue with whoever this is, I wasn't surprised. They've met. In some form or another, at least. Given the fucked up shit I've read on his blog, well, I don't know what's going on with him.
But I *do* know what's going on with you, faker.
Heh, I sounded like Shadow a bit there.
Here's the point. I was at the spot you were, man. I threw it all away, I wanted it done, I wanted it just to be mother fucking over. I couldn't take the stress, the strain, the weird feeling I get whenever its nearby, like a mental scream that reminds me its unnatural, like a natural instinct upon seeing a snake or spider, we have learned to avoid and fear poisonous animals.....fuck I'm getting off topic.
You want to be someone you're not. You want to hide. Yeah, I get that. I hide. I've done it mentally, and I do it physically too. Motherfuckin walkin round covered up, bandaged up, so no one can go 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' Sure they stare, but I know WHY they stare, and that's alright. I wear the gear, sure. It used to feel 'cool' I guess at first, I was pretending, like you, to be someone in control, in charge. Fuck it felt good, I would imagine people pissin their pants when I showed, because I was the fuckin show, and the spotlight was set.
I don't know if you were done dirty like me, I don't know if you're some guy on the edge, lookin for a personality that ain't his. I don't know if you're just a mother. fuckin. troll. gettin his rocks off on other people's grief. Maybe in that way, you ARE him. There's a reason pictures of Redlight show him with a troll face. But that's ALL you are.
I found it frustrating, hell I was motherfuckin catatonic for a bit. The idea of being on a string, dancing to another's tune. It haunts me, I'm not ashamed. I don't want to be a plaything for noodle arms, for the Faceless. I. Won't. Be. Yours.
Talk your trash, all you're getting from me is an ass kicking.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Being pushed in a certain direction.
I never really bought into 'sides' in this conflict. Well I guess that's a lie, I knew that there was ONE side, and then everyone else. I knew that there was a supernatural force, fucking with people, and that some douches decided to join it. (cue me a months ago). Then there was everyone else, a vague, loose collection of people that comprised a pseudo-side. People just trying to live, and maintain. People that have very, very few ways to help one another aside from basic homelessness tips, and encouragement. Aside from occasionally meeting face-to-face, these people barely knew each other. The Runners, as it were.
I've teetered in this, yeah. I just wanted it over, I felt I wasn't strong-willed enough to survive. I looked at what happened the first time there was an issue, and I was horrified by what happened, and I was willing to do whatever it took to either forget about it, or embrace it, just so long as the trauma was gone. Admittedly, I've sort of gotten out of that funk now, after having that incident with Sufjan.
Now, I know I *just* rehashed this a post ago, so why am I discussing it again? Because I seem to have a bit of a follower now, some anonymous ass who is throwing out ill-defined threats. In short, your standard blog proxy. Sad, pathetic wretches, living in the shadow of a monster, doing what they think is the 'monster's bidding' and 'the greater evil' against Runner types they claim to hate, yet can't help talking about.
So I suppose I need to take this as a good sign, that I've made my choice, or rather that someone feels either threatened or infuriated by me not going all Dark Side, and has taken it upon them self to be my antagonist.
Its really funny, now that I think about it. Here I am, bandaged to fuck, wearing the same damn clothes I did when I left home, clothes of a dark mastermind of a sort...and I'm apparently a 'good guy' now. Hell, I almost feel normal, even after all my pills ran out months ago.
Its almost reassurance that I'm at least, in control of myself now, that I'm human, that I'm one of 'us'. I don't know if you can get what I'm saying right now, but in a sad sick way, it means I get to be alright, on a personal level. Because while I will always have supernal issues, its going to push me into the way I need to go, away from deviance.
I can live with that.
edit: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONON O
NO NO NO NO NO WAY NO WAY HE IS DEAD HE IS DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEADDEAD
HE IS DEAD HE CANT HURT ME HE IS DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD HE DIED HE CANT HURT HE DIED CANT DIED CANT DIE HA HE HURTS NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER FUCK NEVER NEVER NO NO NO GOD NO NOT HIM NOT HIM I AM NOT HOT HIM I AM NOT HIT I AM NOT HIM NOT HIM I DONT HAVETOB E HIM I HAVE A CHOISE CHOICE I HAVE A CHOICE I AM NOT HIM I AM NOT REDLIGHT HE IS NOT MBE HE IS NOT ME
I've teetered in this, yeah. I just wanted it over, I felt I wasn't strong-willed enough to survive. I looked at what happened the first time there was an issue, and I was horrified by what happened, and I was willing to do whatever it took to either forget about it, or embrace it, just so long as the trauma was gone. Admittedly, I've sort of gotten out of that funk now, after having that incident with Sufjan.
Now, I know I *just* rehashed this a post ago, so why am I discussing it again? Because I seem to have a bit of a follower now, some anonymous ass who is throwing out ill-defined threats. In short, your standard blog proxy. Sad, pathetic wretches, living in the shadow of a monster, doing what they think is the 'monster's bidding' and 'the greater evil' against Runner types they claim to hate, yet can't help talking about.
So I suppose I need to take this as a good sign, that I've made my choice, or rather that someone feels either threatened or infuriated by me not going all Dark Side, and has taken it upon them self to be my antagonist.
Its really funny, now that I think about it. Here I am, bandaged to fuck, wearing the same damn clothes I did when I left home, clothes of a dark mastermind of a sort...and I'm apparently a 'good guy' now. Hell, I almost feel normal, even after all my pills ran out months ago.
Its almost reassurance that I'm at least, in control of myself now, that I'm human, that I'm one of 'us'. I don't know if you can get what I'm saying right now, but in a sad sick way, it means I get to be alright, on a personal level. Because while I will always have supernal issues, its going to push me into the way I need to go, away from deviance.
I can live with that.
edit: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONON O
NO NO NO NO NO WAY NO WAY HE IS DEAD HE IS DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEADDEAD
HE IS DEAD HE CANT HURT ME HE IS DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD HE DIED HE CANT HURT HE DIED CANT DIED CANT DIE HA HE HURTS NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER FUCK NEVER NEVER NO NO NO GOD NO NOT HIM NOT HIM I AM NOT HOT HIM I AM NOT HIT I AM NOT HIM NOT HIM I DONT HAVETOB E HIM I HAVE A CHOISE CHOICE I HAVE A CHOICE I AM NOT HIM I AM NOT REDLIGHT HE IS NOT MBE HE IS NOT ME
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
The monkey on my back
So here I am again, ciphering Sufjan's riddles as I kill time, as stress relief from my own life. And yeah, it sucks, yeah it's shit, but I'm starting to come around. I kept saying that there's just no way to get any better, and there's no truth to people being able to aid you, but now I think that's what is keeping me going.
So yeah, thanks guys. Really. Sufjan, Amy, Gargoyle, Elaine....I dunno about Moe and Ben so far, but whatevs, you're here, you're listening to my story, and I guess having a vent really does help.
Hell, I even dream about blogging now, its a refuge for me now, even if I don't comment much, or post daily, its a quiet place where things don't go wrong for me often.
Which brings me to Spencer.
Fucker's been quiet, and I guess that's a good thing. I don't like thinking about what he could be doing, but I am trying, I'm really trying to not draw parallels between him and I. Yes there are similarities, but we don't have to be the same. We don't both have to have the bad ending, and yet I feel there needs to be confrontation between us if he goes bad.
Maybe he needs an outside hand, maybe he needs an asskicking, maybe he just needs to talk.
Fuck me, I don't know. I really don't. It's asking for trouble to even consider hunting him down however the fuck I'd do that. I guess what I really need to know is if he's gone, if he's really gone or not. Granted, I'm not hardcore like him, didn't do fucking surgery on myself, though maybe my bandages count, but we've both been played in some form or another.
Maybe he needs a team to work with, a fresh one. It could be one of those Batman things, Batman needs a team to work with, although fuck all if I'm Robin, let's get that shit straight. If he doesn't, his life gets worse, he needs people to trust.
So maybe that's what ole boy needs. His last team went to shit, with trauma and heartbreak. Granted its probably not best to do anything right now to fix things, but its something I wonder about.
Heh, here I am trying to look out for someone else.
Aint that some shit?
So yeah, thanks guys. Really. Sufjan, Amy, Gargoyle, Elaine....I dunno about Moe and Ben so far, but whatevs, you're here, you're listening to my story, and I guess having a vent really does help.
Hell, I even dream about blogging now, its a refuge for me now, even if I don't comment much, or post daily, its a quiet place where things don't go wrong for me often.
Which brings me to Spencer.
Fucker's been quiet, and I guess that's a good thing. I don't like thinking about what he could be doing, but I am trying, I'm really trying to not draw parallels between him and I. Yes there are similarities, but we don't have to be the same. We don't both have to have the bad ending, and yet I feel there needs to be confrontation between us if he goes bad.
Maybe he needs an outside hand, maybe he needs an asskicking, maybe he just needs to talk.
Fuck me, I don't know. I really don't. It's asking for trouble to even consider hunting him down however the fuck I'd do that. I guess what I really need to know is if he's gone, if he's really gone or not. Granted, I'm not hardcore like him, didn't do fucking surgery on myself, though maybe my bandages count, but we've both been played in some form or another.
Maybe he needs a team to work with, a fresh one. It could be one of those Batman things, Batman needs a team to work with, although fuck all if I'm Robin, let's get that shit straight. If he doesn't, his life gets worse, he needs people to trust.
So maybe that's what ole boy needs. His last team went to shit, with trauma and heartbreak. Granted its probably not best to do anything right now to fix things, but its something I wonder about.
Heh, here I am trying to look out for someone else.
Aint that some shit?
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Comparisons, Heroes?
Stars don't twinkle, moon doesn't shine
stars don't twinkle, moon doesn't shine.
Fuck if it doesn't. Somedays now I can't tell if its day or night. I'm losing, I can tell now, and it scares the hell out of me. I think I realized why I'm so afraid for Spencer. I said before, he's been in worse than me, and managed to power through. But now he's really REALLY close to melting down. I can't really say much to him, I mean, what is there to say that isn't tripe bullshit? "You can do it." "Trust in us" What is there to say? I just don't know.
What I DO know is that if a guy like him fails, what chance is there for me? I mean, I'm no hardass, I'm no tough guy, most action I ever had in my life is kicking a kid while he's down, and knocking trash cans on top of him. Sorry bout that again, Sufjan.
I need to know he'll be alright, I need to know he can survive, because when I look at him, I see what lies ahead for me. If he can make it, maybe I can. I mean shit, there's no heroes out here really. Everyone fails, everyone falters. There are no heroes. That's why things turned so dark. Who are the ones who rally to the cause, who really fight against evil, and do not succumb? Dammit, Spencer, you HAVE to hold together. What the fuck does it mean for me if you can't? Can't you just give me hope that it'll be okay? Do you have to be human, be fucking mortal and let that shit win, beat you?
I need hope, I need to know I can be okay. Dear god above or below, come out of this as a better person, or I'll never know how to fight back...
stars don't twinkle, moon doesn't shine.
Fuck if it doesn't. Somedays now I can't tell if its day or night. I'm losing, I can tell now, and it scares the hell out of me. I think I realized why I'm so afraid for Spencer. I said before, he's been in worse than me, and managed to power through. But now he's really REALLY close to melting down. I can't really say much to him, I mean, what is there to say that isn't tripe bullshit? "You can do it." "Trust in us" What is there to say? I just don't know.
What I DO know is that if a guy like him fails, what chance is there for me? I mean, I'm no hardass, I'm no tough guy, most action I ever had in my life is kicking a kid while he's down, and knocking trash cans on top of him. Sorry bout that again, Sufjan.
I need to know he'll be alright, I need to know he can survive, because when I look at him, I see what lies ahead for me. If he can make it, maybe I can. I mean shit, there's no heroes out here really. Everyone fails, everyone falters. There are no heroes. That's why things turned so dark. Who are the ones who rally to the cause, who really fight against evil, and do not succumb? Dammit, Spencer, you HAVE to hold together. What the fuck does it mean for me if you can't? Can't you just give me hope that it'll be okay? Do you have to be human, be fucking mortal and let that shit win, beat you?
I need hope, I need to know I can be okay. Dear god above or below, come out of this as a better person, or I'll never know how to fight back...
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