oH GOD thE PaIN (psyche!)

Ahaha.

So it's been a while since I last blogged. I don't know, maybe. I'm too lazy to open a new tab and check when that last update was (please slap me for typing that). But I was just surprised to discover that Blogspot is no longer blocked at my school. I'd like to take this study hall procrastination session to tell you everything is going smoothly. The spring has begun, and I've had no problems with my personal bogeymen.

I also figure it's about time to explain what all of this paranoid (?) blogging means.

December. I was going through a bit of a tough phase. Bogged down with work and school and all, and to top it off I've got my paranoid niece to worry about. I lost contact with David, and took refuge in horror movies and the internet. I lived on Mountain Dew and black coffee. And that's when he appeared.

He being... well, I don't think it's necessary to say, knowing what my obsession was in October and November. I'm talking about the Slender Man, dummy.

But let's just say I was wrong. Too much creepypasta-writing and too little common sense led me to this delusion, the delusion that I was being followed by some faceless Eldrich horror. The paranoia didn't last long. Eventually, I dismissed it all as the stories getting to me. So naturally I stopped believing.

And what do you know. Slendy disappeared faster than I could whip out a twenty dollar bill.

And in his place came the terrible nightmares. I might post some of my dream logs later, for those with an inclination to psychoanalysis. But in short, let me just describe them as surreal and terrifying. I started jumping at shadows. Everything that scared me at night scared me in the day. My worst nightmares were real. At first they were Slender Man, then they became, I dunno. Ghosts. Voices from Hell. Candle Cove and Pokemon Black for a while. And I knew this was all mocking me.

So I decided to play mind games with whoever was watching me. My parents, being the awesome people they are, actually allowed me to go on a several week-long trip, taking a bit of school off to gather my thoughts and see the world. And in the process, I aimed my thoughts at turning my worst fears into real things. Tangible things. I read books on serial killers. I watched some gory, squick-filled movies. None of the abominations you can't touch. Only real things. If something can kill you, you can kill it. If it's human, it has the capability to die too.

I'd like to skip the next part for now, if you don't mind. Too much work to make up. But let me tell you - my demons can now fully be considered thwarted (for now?) and the triumphant victory goes to Jacob Owen, nothing else.

Once I manage to wade my way out of the mess I made by leaving school and work, I'm starting my online video series. "The Project." I hope to put my experiences to scientific work.

Until next time, goodbye.

So You Want to Hear the Story

Miss Daggertooth visits children in their sleep. Her mouth is her whole head, and she devours children who have misbehaved. Her head, it's just round, like some fucked up Jack the Pumpkin King from hell, with two black beads for eyes and no nose. Her body is just black reaper's cloth, it's a torn dress, with no legs, she just floats in place, and her arms are long like the branches of a tree.

My dad told me the story once. I asked him about it today but I guess he didn't remember. He said, many years ago, that it was the Brothers Grimm. No way in hell. He made up the story, and it was more terrifying than anything I'd ever heard. Nightmares followed. My imagination was overactive, and because of that I sought out more. I liked terrifying myself, making up stories about Miss Daggertooth. I wrote in notebooks about her. Drew her everywhere. The more I dreamed her up, the more terrifying my nightmares became.

This is what we, as humans, fear the most. We fear not the things that can touch us, but the things that can't. We're afraid of the things we think up ourselves. You're not afraid of the bogeyman, or of the ghost, or the killer, or of Slender Man or Miss Daggertooth. You're afraid of all the things you imagine them doing when your eyes are closed at night.

***

I'm starting my... project soon. I don't know what the medium is yet. I liked to fancy myself a photographer but I don't even have a good camera. Drawings and paintings are too fake. Film would be nice but I've got the whole camera issue.
Any suggestions? I noticed one follower (Liam, I think you were called? And a Slender fan, too), so I know I can't be just talking to nobody here.
It's hard to talk about the project, though, without giving stuff away. Let's just say I'm really going to put myself into it... and you'll all be shaking in fear.

Long-Forgotten Fairy Tales

I had to get some sleep early today, because I'm planning on going to a film release at midnight with some people. So, knowing how much trouble I have sleeping even when I am tired, tried to force it around 8:00. I think it was around 9:00 when I managed to actually fall into a light sleep, in a sweaty-and-feeling-gross way more than anything else. I woke up at the last track of the CD I'd been listening to in order to lull myself to sleep, knowing nothing about what I'd just dreamt other than that it wasn't a dream, per se. It was more just... thoughts. A weird, crazy rush of nonsensical thoughts. And being pulled out of that world and into a half-wakened state scared the hell out of me. Since I was still half-asleep though, I managed to pull myself back under again. Haha, bad idea. Being a zombie tomorrow would be better than deciding to get that last bit of dream.
I don't remember much. I was in bed, I think. Trying to cover my head with the sheets, but they were always being pulled away. There was some unholy light piercing through the curtains.
And then there was Miss Daggertooth just as I had seen her as a child, in all my nightmares when I was six years old. Her tiny, beady eyes and her rows and rows of teeth in that mouth that just hinges open on the neck...
Oh jeez, I'm scaring myself again.
Maybe I'll explain later. Maybe not.
But there's little hope of me getting any sleep, good or bad, for the next few days.

All We Can Hope for in Life is a Happy Ending

...Because that's the best we can get.

There is no immortality. The best we can hope for is to be happy as we die. Because what is life but dying slowly?

I had a weird-ass dream last night. No, there was no Slender Man in my dream, trolls. But I think it might help me with my upcoming art series. I might consider trying to get more sleep, too... four hours a night doesn't really help make your dreams feel pleasant.