Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit
Fuck i fucked up. Fuck I'm screwed. Fuck fuck I cant stay still, i can't breathe i can't fucking do anything i can't
Fuck
there's so much blo
no fuck i cant
im not a
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
im covered in.... in it
its everywhere
im getting it all over my ph one
i cant
i need to run
but where can i go
fuck
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Hide and Seek
Guys I feel like I'm going crazy. Ever since the accident, I can't stop twitching. Looking over my shoulder, flinching at anything I hear.
When I'm not being driven to work or play practice, or at either of those things, I'm curled up in my room, with my laptop. Reading and reading and reading. I've read Proxiehunter's blog now. Maybe twice. I've read a few more, that Stewart guy, and Martin or whoever the hell he is now, and Pink.....
But there are... names now.... So many names. But names have power. You don't. I don't. You don't name these things. That's always the first mistake... that's what happens with Slendy... That's what's happening with Her, Him and It. I can't....
I can't name them.
I hear her constantly now. That stupid... stupid giggle as she walks around my house- and I know she is. Like I'll go to the bathroom at night, when I know my parents are sleeping, and I'll hear... Hear Her walking around, giggling. Surrounding me. In every room, in every corner but I never see her.
Right now I'm the Hider... and she's the Seeker. And she knows
Exactly
Where
I
Am.
She's a sadist. She's going to kill me. Jac keeps smiling when she sees me at practice. That stupid grin and... And she... she knows why I'm so twitchy.
I didn't... say it. Because I wasn't sure but... I saw Jac at the accident. She was there, on the side of the road. Watching me. No one else saw her, only me. Jac... Jac has to be one of Her Toys. If she isn't a proper Toy... then she's like what Stewart used to be, just a willing Toy who... who put herself there. Was she chased by Her too? Is that why she's here?
I'm scared. I'm scared. ImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscared
Someone
please
help me
When I'm not being driven to work or play practice, or at either of those things, I'm curled up in my room, with my laptop. Reading and reading and reading. I've read Proxiehunter's blog now. Maybe twice. I've read a few more, that Stewart guy, and Martin or whoever the hell he is now, and Pink.....
But there are... names now.... So many names. But names have power. You don't. I don't. You don't name these things. That's always the first mistake... that's what happens with Slendy... That's what's happening with Her, Him and It. I can't....
I can't name them.
I hear her constantly now. That stupid... stupid giggle as she walks around my house- and I know she is. Like I'll go to the bathroom at night, when I know my parents are sleeping, and I'll hear... Hear Her walking around, giggling. Surrounding me. In every room, in every corner but I never see her.
Right now I'm the Hider... and she's the Seeker. And she knows
Exactly
Where
I
Am.
She's a sadist. She's going to kill me. Jac keeps smiling when she sees me at practice. That stupid grin and... And she... she knows why I'm so twitchy.
I didn't... say it. Because I wasn't sure but... I saw Jac at the accident. She was there, on the side of the road. Watching me. No one else saw her, only me. Jac... Jac has to be one of Her Toys. If she isn't a proper Toy... then she's like what Stewart used to be, just a willing Toy who... who put herself there. Was she chased by Her too? Is that why she's here?
I'm scared. I'm scared. ImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscaredImscared
Someone
please
help me
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Crash
Damnit. Fuck it. Fuck me.
I... Fuck. So much shit has been happening...That person, Proxiehunter.... He commented on my last post... so I read some of his blog. It was all so fucking insane.... but I .... I don't know why but I believed him. I remember M, from the Slenderblogs. I remember his rules. And now I have Proxiehunter's rules... I don't... I don't know if I'm a Runner, or a Fighter, but I know I need to prepare. One of the first things he said was to get a multi-tool so... I went out to buy one
And that's when it happened.
Fuck.
The car came out of nowhere. I was just driving, and they just, turned into me. Going 30 something miles per hour, this random person just turned into me. My car's totaled. I couldn't get out of my seat. The door wouldn't open, my seat belt was stuck and my seat was thrown forward so I was pressed against my steering wheel.
I somehow managed to get out, but I wish I had stayed.
The other driver, they started screaming at me. "Why were you speeding!? Why weren't you watching!?" Their movements were.... jerky. Like they were being pulled by strings. I couldn't form any words, I was scared for my life. Hell I... I think I should be dead.
The police came... I called my insurance and parents. I'm home now. Fuck.
I... Fuck. So much shit has been happening...That person, Proxiehunter.... He commented on my last post... so I read some of his blog. It was all so fucking insane.... but I .... I don't know why but I believed him. I remember M, from the Slenderblogs. I remember his rules. And now I have Proxiehunter's rules... I don't... I don't know if I'm a Runner, or a Fighter, but I know I need to prepare. One of the first things he said was to get a multi-tool so... I went out to buy one
And that's when it happened.
Fuck.
The car came out of nowhere. I was just driving, and they just, turned into me. Going 30 something miles per hour, this random person just turned into me. My car's totaled. I couldn't get out of my seat. The door wouldn't open, my seat belt was stuck and my seat was thrown forward so I was pressed against my steering wheel.
I somehow managed to get out, but I wish I had stayed.
The other driver, they started screaming at me. "Why were you speeding!? Why weren't you watching!?" Their movements were.... jerky. Like they were being pulled by strings. I couldn't form any words, I was scared for my life. Hell I... I think I should be dead.
The police came... I called my insurance and parents. I'm home now. Fuck.
Those are my major injuries. I'm lucky. But...
Proxiehunter, I don't think She's going to let me Run or Fight. We're in a game of Hide and Seek. So... my only roles are either Hider or Seeker.
I'm scared.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Jacqueline Fantoche
Jacqueline Fantoche.
Last time, I told you that I'd talk about my summer play, as well as Jacqueline. Or Jac as she likes to be called.
I met Jac at the first rehearsal for my summer play. At this point our director hadn't announced the roles for everyone. But we all knew the play by this point, and had all auditioned. I honestly have no explanation for that, our director has always been very strange, and we all figured this was one of his eccentricities. Most of the cast was people that I knew from the previous years in the company, except for one girl. Jac.
Jac seemed like a normal girl, honestly. The only reason she stuck out was because she was a new face to the crowd. However, once I began to actually look at her, I noticed something odd. She was wearing gloves. In the middle of summer. She must have noticed me staring, because she made eye contact with me and.... smiled. This slow, knowing smile.
I looked away, back to the director. Her smile unnerved me.
When we were broken into pairs, in order to do some warm up exercises, I was put with Jac. Her smile this time seemed less.... probing, as she introduced herself. We couldn't talk too much as we went into our exercises. Singing our scales, the mirror exercise, and a few short ad lib scenes. The rehearsal ended early, but I left unnerved, Jac's smile seemingly constantly following me.
The next rehearsal the roles were announced. The play we're doing is Il Bosco di Burattini. From my understanding, the play is about a group of children who venture into a woodland near an old family home. There they enter a game of chance with a group of other "children" with risks close to Life and Death. In the Third Act, it's fully realized that the other "children" are either changelings, or lost children made into puppets for a dark force in the forest that wants to gain more "toys." Our director named the cast from supporting to primary. Slowly he named more and more people, my name not being called. As he got into the primary roles, he named Jac as the dark force's right hand, known only as Ombra, or Shadow. Then finally, at the very end, he named me. As La Fata del Lago, or The Lake Fairy. Who later is revealed as the Dark Force, La vera oscurità. The True Darkness.
After our rehearsal, I approached the director. I asked him why I was chosen to be the lead villain. I had always been a secondary character, maybe a supporting primary.
He gave me this odd.... blank smile, his eyes staring through me. "Because you know Italian." Before I could question him more, he walked away.
Jac clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me. She insisted that since I was La Fata and she was Ombra, that she and I needed to become good friends. Jac's smile was huge as she insisted in adding each other on Facebook, and exchanging phone numbers. She stood close to me as she found herself on my Facebook app, smelling of.... freshly cut wood and something... else. That I can't quiet place.
As we left the theater, she laughed to herself. "What is it....?" I asked, wearily.
"Oh no, I was just thinking. We make a pair. Your name, Mariette, it sounds like Marionette, no? And my last name, Fantoche. It's french for Puppet"
As I stared blankly at her, she laughed, walking away from me.
Fantoche. Puppet. Jac.... might be "The Girl."
I need answers. And I will be damned if I don't get them.
Last time, I told you that I'd talk about my summer play, as well as Jacqueline. Or Jac as she likes to be called.
I met Jac at the first rehearsal for my summer play. At this point our director hadn't announced the roles for everyone. But we all knew the play by this point, and had all auditioned. I honestly have no explanation for that, our director has always been very strange, and we all figured this was one of his eccentricities. Most of the cast was people that I knew from the previous years in the company, except for one girl. Jac.
Jac seemed like a normal girl, honestly. The only reason she stuck out was because she was a new face to the crowd. However, once I began to actually look at her, I noticed something odd. She was wearing gloves. In the middle of summer. She must have noticed me staring, because she made eye contact with me and.... smiled. This slow, knowing smile.
I looked away, back to the director. Her smile unnerved me.
When we were broken into pairs, in order to do some warm up exercises, I was put with Jac. Her smile this time seemed less.... probing, as she introduced herself. We couldn't talk too much as we went into our exercises. Singing our scales, the mirror exercise, and a few short ad lib scenes. The rehearsal ended early, but I left unnerved, Jac's smile seemingly constantly following me.
The next rehearsal the roles were announced. The play we're doing is Il Bosco di Burattini. From my understanding, the play is about a group of children who venture into a woodland near an old family home. There they enter a game of chance with a group of other "children" with risks close to Life and Death. In the Third Act, it's fully realized that the other "children" are either changelings, or lost children made into puppets for a dark force in the forest that wants to gain more "toys." Our director named the cast from supporting to primary. Slowly he named more and more people, my name not being called. As he got into the primary roles, he named Jac as the dark force's right hand, known only as Ombra, or Shadow. Then finally, at the very end, he named me. As La Fata del Lago, or The Lake Fairy. Who later is revealed as the Dark Force, La vera oscurità. The True Darkness.
After our rehearsal, I approached the director. I asked him why I was chosen to be the lead villain. I had always been a secondary character, maybe a supporting primary.
He gave me this odd.... blank smile, his eyes staring through me. "Because you know Italian." Before I could question him more, he walked away.
Jac clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me. She insisted that since I was La Fata and she was Ombra, that she and I needed to become good friends. Jac's smile was huge as she insisted in adding each other on Facebook, and exchanging phone numbers. She stood close to me as she found herself on my Facebook app, smelling of.... freshly cut wood and something... else. That I can't quiet place.
As we left the theater, she laughed to herself. "What is it....?" I asked, wearily.
"Oh no, I was just thinking. We make a pair. Your name, Mariette, it sounds like Marionette, no? And my last name, Fantoche. It's french for Puppet"
As I stared blankly at her, she laughed, walking away from me.
Fantoche. Puppet. Jac.... might be "The Girl."
I need answers. And I will be damned if I don't get them.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Unwanted Answers
So... Been awhile hasn't it? I meant to update the day after my sister translated the note... but some things came up I suppose.
When my sister got home a couple weeks ago, I showed her the note and she said that she'd translate it. She... looked at me a bit weird when she saw it, but she didn't really question it.
A few days passed and I spent most of my time with her, doing sister things. Going to the mall, checking out some off Broadway shows, etc etc. But, after a week passed, I realized she hadn't gotten back to me about the note. And I know latin takes a bit of work, but it shouldn't have taken this long, right?
But before I could call her out on it, my summer play started up and I got distracted. Some... weird things happened at the first couple rehearsals, but I want to focus on the note for right now. So more time passes and my sister keeps on keeping me busy. Keeping me away from my laptop, keeping me away from my phone, keeping me away from that damned note.
Finally, I found a lull in which I could call her out. We were home alone, and one of her plans wasn't supposed to happen for another couple hours. I sat her down and said, "Coreana, what the hell is going on."
She looked at my nervously, "I don't know what you're talking about, Mari. C'mon, if we leave now, we can probably hit that sushi place you like before the show."
"'Ana, I'm serious. You've been making me run around for the last few weeks ever since you came here. What the hell is up with you?"
She paused, tapping her knee nervously, "What's up with me? I'm...." she fidgeted, and glanced at me. Slowly, she began, "Mari, you've always been.... caught up in supernatural stuff. When we were younger, you were obsessed with mythology. We could barely go an hour without you telling us something about Zeus, or Ra, or something like that! Then, when we got a bit older, it was more... those creepy games, like Silent Hill or whatever. Sometimes you'd just sit there, watching Ghost Hunters or whatever those shows were called... And now... now you're acting kinda normal, you know? You go out with friends, you read non-horror books, you act in normal plays! But this...."
I frowned as she paused. Honestly, no one in my family had ever called me out on my love of mythology and the like. But the way she talked about it, she made it sound like I was a fanatic. She let out a long breath as she continued, slowly, "Mari... this note... I know you said you found it. And I know you don't know latin... but..."
"But what, 'Ana?"
"Mari.... this is your handwritting. I know your handwritting. And this it it.... I think... Maybe you should keep off the internet... for the summer maybe? Maybe it'll help you get out of... whatever this is. It's just not healthy, Mari."
I stared at her, shell shocked. "That's.... That's impossible, 'Ana. I didn't write that damn note! Just... Just tell me what it says, ok!?"
She gave me a sad look. The.... same sad look she always gave me when I didn't get something correct right away, but she sighed. "Fine... The latin is really bad, something someone just learning latin would make. The basic idea is, 'Look for the Puppet' or girl actually, the way they use Pupa it means the same thing. But, 'Look for the Puppet/ It has the Answers you seek/ But while you get your answers/ It will have it's games.'"
As I stared at her, repeating her words in my mind, she continued, "Look, Mari... maybe talk to your therapist about this? You had a really active imagination when we younger... maybe it's acting up again now? Mari, please...."
I shook my head and stood up, "I'm.... sorry, 'Ana. I'm not feeling up to the movie today... I... I think I'm going to go lay down for the rest of the day. You have fun, ok?" I quietly walked to my room, and locked the door.
It's been a few days. My sister thinks that it's my imagination acting up... and messing with me. That I've read too much stuff. Especially since I've been talking about tulpas recently in out conversations... But I think it's more. I think there is more to this. And I think I know someone who has the answers.
Next time, I'll tell you about Jacqueline Fantoche.
When my sister got home a couple weeks ago, I showed her the note and she said that she'd translate it. She... looked at me a bit weird when she saw it, but she didn't really question it.
A few days passed and I spent most of my time with her, doing sister things. Going to the mall, checking out some off Broadway shows, etc etc. But, after a week passed, I realized she hadn't gotten back to me about the note. And I know latin takes a bit of work, but it shouldn't have taken this long, right?
But before I could call her out on it, my summer play started up and I got distracted. Some... weird things happened at the first couple rehearsals, but I want to focus on the note for right now. So more time passes and my sister keeps on keeping me busy. Keeping me away from my laptop, keeping me away from my phone, keeping me away from that damned note.
Finally, I found a lull in which I could call her out. We were home alone, and one of her plans wasn't supposed to happen for another couple hours. I sat her down and said, "Coreana, what the hell is going on."
She looked at my nervously, "I don't know what you're talking about, Mari. C'mon, if we leave now, we can probably hit that sushi place you like before the show."
"'Ana, I'm serious. You've been making me run around for the last few weeks ever since you came here. What the hell is up with you?"
She paused, tapping her knee nervously, "What's up with me? I'm...." she fidgeted, and glanced at me. Slowly, she began, "Mari, you've always been.... caught up in supernatural stuff. When we were younger, you were obsessed with mythology. We could barely go an hour without you telling us something about Zeus, or Ra, or something like that! Then, when we got a bit older, it was more... those creepy games, like Silent Hill or whatever. Sometimes you'd just sit there, watching Ghost Hunters or whatever those shows were called... And now... now you're acting kinda normal, you know? You go out with friends, you read non-horror books, you act in normal plays! But this...."
I frowned as she paused. Honestly, no one in my family had ever called me out on my love of mythology and the like. But the way she talked about it, she made it sound like I was a fanatic. She let out a long breath as she continued, slowly, "Mari... this note... I know you said you found it. And I know you don't know latin... but..."
"But what, 'Ana?"
"Mari.... this is your handwritting. I know your handwritting. And this it it.... I think... Maybe you should keep off the internet... for the summer maybe? Maybe it'll help you get out of... whatever this is. It's just not healthy, Mari."
I stared at her, shell shocked. "That's.... That's impossible, 'Ana. I didn't write that damn note! Just... Just tell me what it says, ok!?"
She gave me a sad look. The.... same sad look she always gave me when I didn't get something correct right away, but she sighed. "Fine... The latin is really bad, something someone just learning latin would make. The basic idea is, 'Look for the Puppet' or girl actually, the way they use Pupa it means the same thing. But, 'Look for the Puppet/ It has the Answers you seek/ But while you get your answers/ It will have it's games.'"
As I stared at her, repeating her words in my mind, she continued, "Look, Mari... maybe talk to your therapist about this? You had a really active imagination when we younger... maybe it's acting up again now? Mari, please...."
I shook my head and stood up, "I'm.... sorry, 'Ana. I'm not feeling up to the movie today... I... I think I'm going to go lay down for the rest of the day. You have fun, ok?" I quietly walked to my room, and locked the door.
It's been a few days. My sister thinks that it's my imagination acting up... and messing with me. That I've read too much stuff. Especially since I've been talking about tulpas recently in out conversations... But I think it's more. I think there is more to this. And I think I know someone who has the answers.
Next time, I'll tell you about Jacqueline Fantoche.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Update
The note the last post talked about. My sister is coming down on Sunday, so hopefully she can help me with the other one.
I think I'll keep this one secret from her... I don't need her to worry.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
What the everloving fuck
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the everloving fuck. I planned on making a post tomorrow, something about the note or my sister or something. Fuck. I just. Fuck.
Alright, fuck. Ok. So I went to my notes on my phone, to write something down. And I don't use the notes app much on my phone. It's mostly account info storage. But then, fuck. I see this fucking note sitting at the top. That I... I have no memory of writing. Just. Fuck. I don't need this right now. God fucking damnit.
I'll post a picture tomorrow or something. But fuck... Here's what it says.
"plane of emptiness
it has changed a lot
but i am sure you will still recognize it
you just need to think
who are you?
i will show you.
i will show you all soon. "
The time stamp says April 28th, 2014. At 10:08 AM. Call me a lazy college student, but I wasn't awake by that time. That was a monday and I didn't have class until 2pm. I didn't fucking write this note and it's on my phone.
And no, I didn't let anyone touch it. I don't let anyone touch my phone. Especially not the notes app.
Fuck.
Alright, fuck. Ok. So I went to my notes on my phone, to write something down. And I don't use the notes app much on my phone. It's mostly account info storage. But then, fuck. I see this fucking note sitting at the top. That I... I have no memory of writing. Just. Fuck. I don't need this right now. God fucking damnit.
I'll post a picture tomorrow or something. But fuck... Here's what it says.
"plane of emptiness
it has changed a lot
but i am sure you will still recognize it
you just need to think
who are you?
i will show you.
i will show you all soon. "
The time stamp says April 28th, 2014. At 10:08 AM. Call me a lazy college student, but I wasn't awake by that time. That was a monday and I didn't have class until 2pm. I didn't fucking write this note and it's on my phone.
And no, I didn't let anyone touch it. I don't let anyone touch my phone. Especially not the notes app.
Fuck.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Re: The Note
Alright so my friend who reads this blog brought up the point of how there's a bunch of translators online that could figure out what that sick prank or whatever it is says, but let me explain something.
I know google translate. Everyone knows google translate. I survived 7+ years of Italian classes by using google translate. Through those seven years, I've learned one good rule about google translate. It sucks. It gets things wrong. When I used it for italian, I could fix the mistakes because I knew italian. But this is I guess latin? I don't know latin, and I don't know what's wrong with it or how to fix it.
But I know someone who does know latin. My Sister. And she should be coming down soon to visit and I can get her to translate for me.
Which brings me to another problem, and that is the handwriting on the note is fucking horrid. My transcription? Sub par at best. I can't tell if this person meant As or Us or Rs or Ns half the time. Hell it could just be a teenage boy in my neighborhood being an asshole. It does say "cum" and "semen" in it after all. Seriously... this handwriting is some of the worst I've seen.
Haaa... I suppose there is another factor in all of this. Someone invading the privacy of my home due to my own carelessness... this isn't the first time this has happened. Last year, some... person did something similar, I suppose...
I had just gotten home from work, it was sometime in June near 11.30 at night. I went into my room, prepared to change into my pajamas... I.... got my pajama bottoms on and as I was taking off my bra I head a voice coming from my window. My window which was open slightly to let the air flow through. The window I left open with the blind up thinking that my thorn bush outside of it would protect me.
The voice said, "Now haven't you grown up?"
I screamed. I ran into the living room, crying for my step dad, covering myself, having been too distraught to grab a shirt. I begged him to check around the house, since I heard that voice. He checked and he checked, but he couldn't find anyone. We locked all the doors and closed all the blinds even though my mom was still out.
I thought I was fine. I've been getting more relaxed recently. And then this... fucking asshole drops this note while I'm once again leaving something open. So excuse me if I was a bit... stressed yesterday.
I know google translate. Everyone knows google translate. I survived 7+ years of Italian classes by using google translate. Through those seven years, I've learned one good rule about google translate. It sucks. It gets things wrong. When I used it for italian, I could fix the mistakes because I knew italian. But this is I guess latin? I don't know latin, and I don't know what's wrong with it or how to fix it.
But I know someone who does know latin. My Sister. And she should be coming down soon to visit and I can get her to translate for me.
Which brings me to another problem, and that is the handwriting on the note is fucking horrid. My transcription? Sub par at best. I can't tell if this person meant As or Us or Rs or Ns half the time. Hell it could just be a teenage boy in my neighborhood being an asshole. It does say "cum" and "semen" in it after all. Seriously... this handwriting is some of the worst I've seen.
Haaa... I suppose there is another factor in all of this. Someone invading the privacy of my home due to my own carelessness... this isn't the first time this has happened. Last year, some... person did something similar, I suppose...
I had just gotten home from work, it was sometime in June near 11.30 at night. I went into my room, prepared to change into my pajamas... I.... got my pajama bottoms on and as I was taking off my bra I head a voice coming from my window. My window which was open slightly to let the air flow through. The window I left open with the blind up thinking that my thorn bush outside of it would protect me.
The voice said, "Now haven't you grown up?"
I screamed. I ran into the living room, crying for my step dad, covering myself, having been too distraught to grab a shirt. I begged him to check around the house, since I heard that voice. He checked and he checked, but he couldn't find anyone. We locked all the doors and closed all the blinds even though my mom was still out.
I thought I was fine. I've been getting more relaxed recently. And then this... fucking asshole drops this note while I'm once again leaving something open. So excuse me if I was a bit... stressed yesterday.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
A sick bastard
Okay, okay fuck- So I was sitting in my computer room, you know writing some papers for my fucking finals, minding my own business, when I heard the front door slam shut. At first I thought, perhaps it was the wind or something like that, because today was actually a nice day for once, so I opened it earlier to let in the nice air and stuff- but that's before I went to reopen it.
But then I found this.
What the fuck. What the absolute fuck. It's a note in... Latin? Italian? the hell if I can tell. Whoever put this there has A) no sense of humor, and B) is a sick bastard.
It says "Videte enim Pupa/ Hubet enim responsa petis/ Tu antem, cum futura scientia/ Non erit semen eim, ludos"? That's the best I can do, the hand writing is shit.
What the hell was this even written in? Orange sharpie?
But then I found this.
It says "Videte enim Pupa/ Hubet enim responsa petis/ Tu antem, cum futura scientia/ Non erit semen eim, ludos"? That's the best I can do, the hand writing is shit.
What the hell was this even written in? Orange sharpie?
Sunday, May 4, 2014
I want to Forget
I've been avoiding this all day.
But I'm so fucking angry right now. It has been two weeks. I thought I was good, safe. I don't know, some other lies I've been telling myself. But no, I can't even go a whole month without some goddamned dream or city or whatever other bullshit.
I even went camping and I'm still seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Thinking that I'm seeing that fucking City behind me, lurking or some bullshit. How do you even see a city in the middle of fucking nowhere? Even when I'm not keeping my mind on other things, I still hear that goddamned giggle echoing in my head. Over and over, it's driving me nuts.
And then last night. Fucking last night.
Fuck, fine, here. Have the dream.
.........
When I opened my eyes, I was at the bottom of the library stairs, picking up from the last dream I suppose... Initially I suspected the nearby children's section to look like... well the children's section from my local library... but I was wrong. It was wrong. More wrong than the entire wretched City that this library was within.
There weren't any children's drawings hanging from the walls, or any other nonsensical adornments you would expect from a children's section.
Well... no, there were papers, but they were all blank. Blank printer paper hanging from the walls. And on the bulletin board there were no notices or flyers. Instead there were letters, cut out white and grey printer paper. They didn't say anything coherent, just letters pasted up there in a mockery of language...
"FR ADA RWEG" and "BDI QWPRN SKT"
Eventually, I stood up and walked into the children's section proper. On the bookshelves were effigies of books. Almost all of them were grey and the same size. When I grabbed one, the pages were either blank, or a scramble of letters similar to the walls. I wasn't even certain if they were all of the Latin alphabet. However, there were a few books that had cover art, though those books lacked clear messages as well. As I stepped out of one of the aisles, I saw movement within the adjacent hallway. And because I'm aware of the tropes that come with horror stories and general surrealistic stories...
I gave chase after the figure.
I ran after the moving shadow, down a hallway that was far too long to be found in a small town library. It felt like ages but finally I had reached the end, where...
Where the man from my Theater Dream stood. He stood there, with a script in his hand and a pen tapping the paper. His head was bowed, but I could see him grinning at me, smirking, laughing, daring me to do anything-
So I did.
And when I stepped forward, I fell. I fell and I fell and I fell. I fell down so far that Tartarus would be envious of the pit. And then... The Voice spoke, "You're skilled at Hiding. Better than your Running. Maybe you want to play Hide and Seek instead of Tag?" The Giggle echoed in my mind with the Voice's final words, "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm going to Win. Because I always Win. And I always know where you are, Mariette."
And then I woke up.
.........
Ugh, even writing it is too much.... I do not need this during finals... I just want to forget.
But I'm so fucking angry right now. It has been two weeks. I thought I was good, safe. I don't know, some other lies I've been telling myself. But no, I can't even go a whole month without some goddamned dream or city or whatever other bullshit.
I even went camping and I'm still seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Thinking that I'm seeing that fucking City behind me, lurking or some bullshit. How do you even see a city in the middle of fucking nowhere? Even when I'm not keeping my mind on other things, I still hear that goddamned giggle echoing in my head. Over and over, it's driving me nuts.
And then last night. Fucking last night.
Fuck, fine, here. Have the dream.
.........
When I opened my eyes, I was at the bottom of the library stairs, picking up from the last dream I suppose... Initially I suspected the nearby children's section to look like... well the children's section from my local library... but I was wrong. It was wrong. More wrong than the entire wretched City that this library was within.
There weren't any children's drawings hanging from the walls, or any other nonsensical adornments you would expect from a children's section.
Well... no, there were papers, but they were all blank. Blank printer paper hanging from the walls. And on the bulletin board there were no notices or flyers. Instead there were letters, cut out white and grey printer paper. They didn't say anything coherent, just letters pasted up there in a mockery of language...
"FR ADA RWEG" and "BDI QWPRN SKT"
Eventually, I stood up and walked into the children's section proper. On the bookshelves were effigies of books. Almost all of them were grey and the same size. When I grabbed one, the pages were either blank, or a scramble of letters similar to the walls. I wasn't even certain if they were all of the Latin alphabet. However, there were a few books that had cover art, though those books lacked clear messages as well. As I stepped out of one of the aisles, I saw movement within the adjacent hallway. And because I'm aware of the tropes that come with horror stories and general surrealistic stories...
I gave chase after the figure.
I ran after the moving shadow, down a hallway that was far too long to be found in a small town library. It felt like ages but finally I had reached the end, where...
Where the man from my Theater Dream stood. He stood there, with a script in his hand and a pen tapping the paper. His head was bowed, but I could see him grinning at me, smirking, laughing, daring me to do anything-
So I did.
And when I stepped forward, I fell. I fell and I fell and I fell. I fell down so far that Tartarus would be envious of the pit. And then... The Voice spoke, "You're skilled at Hiding. Better than your Running. Maybe you want to play Hide and Seek instead of Tag?" The Giggle echoed in my mind with the Voice's final words, "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm going to Win. Because I always Win. And I always know where you are, Mariette."
And then I woke up.
.........
Ugh, even writing it is too much.... I do not need this during finals... I just want to forget.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Dear old Selndy
Hello there blog, sorry about the radio silence. College was kicking my ass and all that. But I am here to post more about myths and lore! Yaaaaaay.
Since last post I talked about tulpas and mentioned dear old Slendy, let's talk about his origin today.
Slendy was concieved on June 10th, 2009 on the Something Awful forums. The "Goons" of the forum were trying to make fake paranormal photos in order to freak out paranormal forums. The SA goon who "planted" Slendy was Victor Surge, who posted two fabricated photos in black and white, showing an impossibly tall creature with no face near children. He included two short descriptions:
Obviously enough, Slendy is no longer confined to the SA forums, Within the same month of his conception, Slendy was used in a webseries known as Marble Hornets made by SA users KicksYouInHalf and Ce gars. Many people believe these videos to be the driving force for Slendy's fame. Ce gars and friends popularized many common themes related to Slendy, and inspired webseries like EverymanHybrid and TribeTwelve to name a few.
Common Names for Slendy include; Slender Man, The Tall Man, The Thin Man, Der Schlanker Mann, Fear Dudh, Schlankwalkd, Slenderman, The Pale One, The White King, Master, Black King, The Operator, and The Birch Prince
Not only has he become an internet phenomenon, he is perhaps one of the first samples of Internet Urban legend that gained mass traction. He's become a meme, something referenced anywhere. The Endermen in Minecraft, the Silence in Doctor Who. He has his own video game (several in fact), a movie, several web series and blogs, and easter eggs dedicated to his fame.
And all of that. All of that history and fame and acknowledgement gives it power. Every time someone walks home after talking about him, and double takes when they see a shadow under the lamp post, they give it power. Every time that someone believes in it, has the brief moment of "what if he is real? What if he's more than mortal?" he becomes a stronger and stronger tulpa. That is why I fear Slendy. That is why I nickname it, why I refuse to give it a proper name. Because my belief in it, gives it more potential to exist.
Since last post I talked about tulpas and mentioned dear old Slendy, let's talk about his origin today.
Slendy was concieved on June 10th, 2009 on the Something Awful forums. The "Goons" of the forum were trying to make fake paranormal photos in order to freak out paranormal forums. The SA goon who "planted" Slendy was Victor Surge, who posted two fabricated photos in black and white, showing an impossibly tall creature with no face near children. He included two short descriptions:
"We didn't want to go, we didn't want to kill them, but its persistent silence and outstretched arms horrified and comforted us at the same time..." -1983, photographer unknown presumed dead
"One of two recovered photographs from the Stirling City Library blaze. Notable for being taken the day which fourteen children vanished and for what is referred to as “The Slender Man”. Deformities cited as film defects by officials. Fire at library occurred one week later. Actual photograph confiscated as evidence. – 1986, photographer: Mary Thomas, missing since June 13th, 1986.From there, Victor Surge and the rest of the SA forums updated and fleshed out the mythos of Slendy, more or less taking over the forum.
Obviously enough, Slendy is no longer confined to the SA forums, Within the same month of his conception, Slendy was used in a webseries known as Marble Hornets made by SA users KicksYouInHalf and Ce gars. Many people believe these videos to be the driving force for Slendy's fame. Ce gars and friends popularized many common themes related to Slendy, and inspired webseries like EverymanHybrid and TribeTwelve to name a few.
Common Names for Slendy include; Slender Man, The Tall Man, The Thin Man, Der Schlanker Mann, Fear Dudh, Schlankwalkd, Slenderman, The Pale One, The White King, Master, Black King, The Operator, and The Birch Prince
Not only has he become an internet phenomenon, he is perhaps one of the first samples of Internet Urban legend that gained mass traction. He's become a meme, something referenced anywhere. The Endermen in Minecraft, the Silence in Doctor Who. He has his own video game (several in fact), a movie, several web series and blogs, and easter eggs dedicated to his fame.
And all of that. All of that history and fame and acknowledgement gives it power. Every time someone walks home after talking about him, and double takes when they see a shadow under the lamp post, they give it power. Every time that someone believes in it, has the brief moment of "what if he is real? What if he's more than mortal?" he becomes a stronger and stronger tulpa. That is why I fear Slendy. That is why I nickname it, why I refuse to give it a proper name. Because my belief in it, gives it more potential to exist.
"You've seen him, now you can't unsee him." -Victor Surge
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Let's talk Tulpas
So, while I avoid writing end of term papers, and thinking about that dream from Sunday, I think I'll make an entry about something I'm actually interested in.
Which means talking about urban legends and myths. Because other than dreams, that is literally my life.
So, let's talk about tulpas, or thoughtforms.
If you frequent creepypasta like I'm perchance to do, then you're probably familiar with the story with the name Tulpa. And honestly, the creepypasta does have the idea pretty down pat. But the origin actually comes from Tibetan Buddhism, first documented in Samaññaphala Sutta which listed the steps to to create a Mano-maya-kaya. Or rather, Mind-made body. Essentially, Tibetan monks in a group would ascend to the celestial plane through the Boddhi, or mindstream. Initially, tulpas, or nirmitas, was classified as a psychic skill through Buddhist discipline.
Really, from what I've read, it seems like the nirmitas were a test for the young monks. In Buddhism, reality is empty of any essence, and to make sure that the young monks were following this teaching, they had them create nirmitas. Once the nirmita was created, they'd tell the younger monk that this thing was a god. If they believed them and accepted the nirmita as a god, they failed. If they saw past the falsehood, and accepted the nirmita as a hallucination, similar to what life was to the Buddhists, then he passed.
However, us westerners are more acquainted with thoughtforms. Which are more linked to western magic and witchcraft. Really, this has less fancy names. People try to make imaginary friends. Shit goes wrong, and suddenly Mr Fluffykins is impaling you on that "cute" tail you gave him.
Personally... I think Tulpas are bad news. They're just asking to give a demon or something a physical form.
Now, you may be wondering "Hey, Mariette, other than you being a completely weirdo, what's up with the tulpa talk?" Well, I'm glad you asked, random people who look at my blog.
Which means talking about urban legends and myths. Because other than dreams, that is literally my life.
So, let's talk about tulpas, or thoughtforms.
If you frequent creepypasta like I'm perchance to do, then you're probably familiar with the story with the name Tulpa. And honestly, the creepypasta does have the idea pretty down pat. But the origin actually comes from Tibetan Buddhism, first documented in Samaññaphala Sutta which listed the steps to to create a Mano-maya-kaya. Or rather, Mind-made body. Essentially, Tibetan monks in a group would ascend to the celestial plane through the Boddhi, or mindstream. Initially, tulpas, or nirmitas, was classified as a psychic skill through Buddhist discipline.
Really, from what I've read, it seems like the nirmitas were a test for the young monks. In Buddhism, reality is empty of any essence, and to make sure that the young monks were following this teaching, they had them create nirmitas. Once the nirmita was created, they'd tell the younger monk that this thing was a god. If they believed them and accepted the nirmita as a god, they failed. If they saw past the falsehood, and accepted the nirmita as a hallucination, similar to what life was to the Buddhists, then he passed.
However, us westerners are more acquainted with thoughtforms. Which are more linked to western magic and witchcraft. Really, this has less fancy names. People try to make imaginary friends. Shit goes wrong, and suddenly Mr Fluffykins is impaling you on that "cute" tail you gave him.
Personally... I think Tulpas are bad news. They're just asking to give a demon or something a physical form.
Now, you may be wondering "Hey, Mariette, other than you being a completely weirdo, what's up with the tulpa talk?" Well, I'm glad you asked, random people who look at my blog.
This guy is to blame to be honest. Well not him exactly, but see he's a statue on my campus and I absolutely hate him because he's one of the reasons I fear our favorite tulpa on the internet, Slendy!
Yep, that's right, Slendy is what I consider a modern day tulpa, and he creeps the fuck out of me because of this whole thing I have about not being able to see faces on people. But that has nothing to do really with tulpas, now does it?
Ugh, sorry. I'm getting bad vibes from talking about tulpas too much. Call me crazy, but I just think they're major bad mojo that I do not need in my life. Maybe I'll talk about this another day.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Insomnia
Insomnia needs to be stopped at all costs. #stopinsomnia2k14 or whatever bullshit they're doing over on twitter now.
This week is so not the time for sleep deprived Mariette. Sleep deprived Mariette is no one's favorite Mariette.
This week is so not the time for sleep deprived Mariette. Sleep deprived Mariette is no one's favorite Mariette.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
New Dream
So... last night was a thing. So was today, but, you know, Easter. Different story for a different time.
For now, well.... I guess I'll get right into the point of this blog; the dream.
I dreamt of the city again, for the first time in years. The City. Even now I can scarcely believe it.
.........
When I woke, I was on a street.
I was on a street, alone with only the familiar grey, sleek spires as my company. I heard no noise, saw no evidence of any human life surrounding me, and it... was terrifying. The silence had seemed near deafening, and there was a shiver down my spine that told me that this wasn't right.
That there was something I had to do.
And then I remembered-
I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran. I ran so far and for so long that I could feel my lungs burning, my feet bleeding, the bones in my legs aching for some sort of reprisal, a boon, any form of relief to end this hellish marathon. And even then, I continued to run, with the words from that far off dream ringing in my head. It was the only thing that kept me going, until my legs gave out and I was scraping my legs and knees across the asphalt of the road.
I felt like dying.
It was only when I could breathe that I looked up, and suddenly my body became immobile; I saw a Library.
It wasn't as if there was anything off about it perse. It wasn't anything epic or grand,it was just... a library. Like one you'd find in a small town run by kindly volunteers. Still, I felt my body give a tremble as I stared at the gray doors, gray like the spires and the road and the sky. This place felt wrong and I knew it, yet...
Yet somehow, I managed to get up, almost as if it was against my will, as if there were strings pulling my limbs up to stand, despite my body screaming for me to rest. I stared up once more at Library's looming figure before stumbling through those grey, grey doors.
I don't remember what I had expected, but I suppose it was only natural for it to seem near identical to the libraries of my childhood, it was my own dream after all. Even walking around, looking at all the books, it was impeccably replicated. Well, except for the complete and utter lack of human life of course, as seemed the new staple of The City.
As I further explored the library, I felt a sudden urge to go down the stairs into the children's section, almost like a tug, pulling me down. But before I even took my first step on the creaky old stairs, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned, trying to find the source when I heard that voi.... no... That Voice within my mind and behind me again.
"I tell you to Run and you plod along. What a defiant toy you are."
And instead of waking up peacefully, I felt my body being jerked back, down the stairs as a giggle echoed throughout my mind.
Then I woke up, as I felt the first step dig into my spine.
.........
Yeah, you could say that after that ordeal, going through the festivities today, well...Okay I may have been shaken up a bit, but it did make suffering through the pleasantries of the day a bit... more bearable.
For now, well.... I guess I'll get right into the point of this blog; the dream.
I dreamt of the city again, for the first time in years. The City. Even now I can scarcely believe it.
.........
When I woke, I was on a street.
I was on a street, alone with only the familiar grey, sleek spires as my company. I heard no noise, saw no evidence of any human life surrounding me, and it... was terrifying. The silence had seemed near deafening, and there was a shiver down my spine that told me that this wasn't right.
That there was something I had to do.
And then I remembered-
I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran. I ran so far and for so long that I could feel my lungs burning, my feet bleeding, the bones in my legs aching for some sort of reprisal, a boon, any form of relief to end this hellish marathon. And even then, I continued to run, with the words from that far off dream ringing in my head. It was the only thing that kept me going, until my legs gave out and I was scraping my legs and knees across the asphalt of the road.
I felt like dying.
It was only when I could breathe that I looked up, and suddenly my body became immobile; I saw a Library.
It wasn't as if there was anything off about it perse. It wasn't anything epic or grand,it was just... a library. Like one you'd find in a small town run by kindly volunteers. Still, I felt my body give a tremble as I stared at the gray doors, gray like the spires and the road and the sky. This place felt wrong and I knew it, yet...
Yet somehow, I managed to get up, almost as if it was against my will, as if there were strings pulling my limbs up to stand, despite my body screaming for me to rest. I stared up once more at Library's looming figure before stumbling through those grey, grey doors.
I don't remember what I had expected, but I suppose it was only natural for it to seem near identical to the libraries of my childhood, it was my own dream after all. Even walking around, looking at all the books, it was impeccably replicated. Well, except for the complete and utter lack of human life of course, as seemed the new staple of The City.
As I further explored the library, I felt a sudden urge to go down the stairs into the children's section, almost like a tug, pulling me down. But before I even took my first step on the creaky old stairs, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned, trying to find the source when I heard that voi.... no... That Voice within my mind and behind me again.
"I tell you to Run and you plod along. What a defiant toy you are."
And instead of waking up peacefully, I felt my body being jerked back, down the stairs as a giggle echoed throughout my mind.
Then I woke up, as I felt the first step dig into my spine.
.........
Yeah, you could say that after that ordeal, going through the festivities today, well...Okay I may have been shaken up a bit, but it did make suffering through the pleasantries of the day a bit... more bearable.
Ugghhhhh
God I fucking hate work! Like okay, for the most part it's not so bad but it's the worst when you have to close. Trust me, I've been working as a waitress for about two years now and it never really gets easier. Mostly just really annoying.
I mean, usually it's just, whatever, you know? But tonight I went in with a headache even though I took Advil before going in.
Pretty sure I have a migraine now and I can't fucking!! Deal!!! With this right now!!!! I'm probably going to get a nightmare tonight, and then I'm going to have to go through a /living/ nightmare all out of tomorrow during Easter.
Ugh, whatever. I'll update tomorrow if I do get a nightmare.
I mean, usually it's just, whatever, you know? But tonight I went in with a headache even though I took Advil before going in.
Pretty sure I have a migraine now and I can't fucking!! Deal!!! With this right now!!!! I'm probably going to get a nightmare tonight, and then I'm going to have to go through a /living/ nightmare all out of tomorrow during Easter.
Ugh, whatever. I'll update tomorrow if I do get a nightmare.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Dreams of Strings
A grand concert hall encompasses my vision. Ornamentation lined the walls that could put a Gothic Cathedral to shame, with enough room to sit thousands of patrons, if not more. No matter how I look, I can't see into the orchestral pit, but I can hear a full orchestra from within, the strings tuning and the winds running through their scales. It's hard to see past a certain point in the theater, the house lights are dimmed and the stage lights are on in full intensity. When I look into the audience, trying to find responsive faces, anything to spur me on but.... there were no faces. There were... "people" alright, but they looked like prop dummies, or rag dolls. All faceless... but I could feel them staring at me. Staring and staring and staring and...
And before I can run, my arm is lifted and I'm moved into position, and.... And I begin singing the opening song to whatever production I'm currently apart of. The most recent one being "All that Jazz"... But I have no accompaniment, I'm alone on the stage and everyone is watching me and I just want to run and run far away from the stage, from that entire concert hall. But... I can't. I'm frozen. It's not even me singing and dancing, it's someone making me.
I can look around the stage, but the only other person is a man sitting to the side, writing in a script, smirking to himself. And if he notices my distress.... he doesn't care. Not at all. Sometimes, I look up and see silvery strings ascending into the rafters, seemingly never ending. And then I hear a giggle and I....
I wake up.
..........
Unlike my city dream... this one happens a lot. Maybe four or five times a year. Since I started acting.
I've been acting since I was 8.
And before I can run, my arm is lifted and I'm moved into position, and.... And I begin singing the opening song to whatever production I'm currently apart of. The most recent one being "All that Jazz"... But I have no accompaniment, I'm alone on the stage and everyone is watching me and I just want to run and run far away from the stage, from that entire concert hall. But... I can't. I'm frozen. It's not even me singing and dancing, it's someone making me.
I can look around the stage, but the only other person is a man sitting to the side, writing in a script, smirking to himself. And if he notices my distress.... he doesn't care. Not at all. Sometimes, I look up and see silvery strings ascending into the rafters, seemingly never ending. And then I hear a giggle and I....
I wake up.
..........
Unlike my city dream... this one happens a lot. Maybe four or five times a year. Since I started acting.
I've been acting since I was 8.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Hello
Well, I suppose that’s one way to start a blog, let's start
over:
My name is Mariette and I am haunted by nightmares.
Although it's not really a daily occurrence, when nightmares
or even dreams do occur- it's more than I can really describe. I feel... lost
in them, like the world my mind built wasn't anything that I could find in the
real one. I suppose you could say they were similar to video games like Silent
Hill or Alan Wake, surreal and overall just very eery... Haunting.
Since that first nightmare, I've sought out answers from
just about everywhere you can think of. Paranormal forums, books on dreams,
even acclaimed dream experts. But I've always gotten the same answers, all just
bullshit about finding yourself or the fear of conforming. They never address
the voice, or the fact I just can't forget about it, even now 6 years later at
20 years old.
I don't know what posting this will accomplish, or how many
people will really read this, but I thought maybe if I recorded these things in
like a “dream blog” or something, I could find out more things if I wrote them
down. Maybe I'd be known outside of these weird dreams.
I mean, I'm still a normal person, all things considered. I go to a state college, study myths and folklore, I even do a little bit of acting here and there. It's not like I don't have a life outside these nightmares and dreams, it's just hard sometimes, to separate myself from them. I'm still human after all.
But I guess that's enough for today, I'll be back soon with another dream to post.
Dreams of Cities
An expanse of city stretched out around me, the tall spires nearly touching the sky where I hovered. The buildings were tall grey... things, unlike even the buildings of New York City. Far too tall, far too sleek, and far too grey. No matter how far I looked, there was only the city. No trees, no grass, not even a city park in mockery of a natural forest. And when I looked down, there was the only source of color, the hair color of the populace. The... "people" were all walking in the same direction, all orderly following one another. However, no matter how I looked, I could not find their end goal, the lines of people as endless as the city. Then... Then I heard a voice. Directly behind me, a voice echoed within my mind.
"It is time to wake up. It is time to Run."
Before I could turn around, seeking the speaker, I woke up. As I lay in bed, returning to the reality of school and sun, I heard my mother's voice, "Mariette, it's time to wake up." Startled, I scrambled out of my bed into the living room where...
There was no one, other than the orange morning light. When I looked at the cable box, the time read 5:26 AM. My mother was asleep, and I had an hour before I needed to be awake.
.........
This dream occurred over 6 years ago now. I still remember as if it happened yesterday.
"It is time to wake up. It is time to Run."
Before I could turn around, seeking the speaker, I woke up. As I lay in bed, returning to the reality of school and sun, I heard my mother's voice, "Mariette, it's time to wake up." Startled, I scrambled out of my bed into the living room where...
There was no one, other than the orange morning light. When I looked at the cable box, the time read 5:26 AM. My mother was asleep, and I had an hour before I needed to be awake.
.........
This dream occurred over 6 years ago now. I still remember as if it happened yesterday.
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