Friday, June 10, 2011

Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday. I can't be sure.

My mother didn't. I'm sure someone's did, but my mother definitely did not die.

At least, if she did, no one told me.

The waiting. It's the worst part, you know. I haven't seen the Slender Man since that incident on the freeway, but I feel like he's there. Waiting. Watching. He could be right behind me and kill me before I finish this post and I wouldn't even know it.

I'm becoming a paranoid, I think. I'm worried. I hate waiting. Can't you just show up already, Slender Man? I feel like I'm being played with. Toyed with. Like he enjoys watching me squirm, the sick bastard.

DIDN'T YOUR MOTHER EVER TEACH YOU TO NOT PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD?

... Maybe I need to go to a doctor and get some Xanax or something. No, wait. Doctors. They could be under his control. I could be sent to a mental institution crazy home loony bin or something where he would drive me fucking crazy and then there would be bags bags of my organs and blood and organs and no one would ever know what happened to me and and and...

Okay. Calm down, Dante. Chill out, be zen. This is what he wants you to do, to freak out. I can't play his game.

Still keeping my hourly journal, like how Jekyll advised. Before he... You all know what happened with him. I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to turn out like that...

So I can't let him. I can't let the Slender Man win. I have to live, live for everyone I've killed so far, just like Maurice said. Because if I don't, then he wins. And I just can't let that happen.

Regards,
Dante

P.S. Did you know that Viktor Frankl found that people who are religious tend to live longer in hopeless situations? Maybe I should pray. I'm not keeping Shabbat right now, of course, and HaShem knows I've broken kosher more times than I can count. Maybe I should.

But then again, one can't force themselves to believe.

12 comments:

  1. Religion tends to help folks in dire times.

    Why not go back?

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  2. Heheh, Camus.

    As a devout agnostic (hah!), I think it would be best if you kept your head cool and found a way to unwind without going crazy for some higher power. I suggest a nice restaurant with food that you like. Calm, public, little chance of Mr. S. appearing, and soothing to the senses.

    Oh fuck, here they come again.

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  3. Aujourd'hui, Maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas. J'ai reçu un télégramme de l'asile: «Mère décédée. Enterrement demain. Sentiments distingués.» Cela ne veut rien dire. C'était peut-être hier. L'asile de vieillards est à Marengo, à quatre-vingts kilomètres d'Alger. Je prendrai l'autobus à deux heures et j'arriverai dans l'après-midi. Ainsi, je pourrai veiller et je rentrerai demain soir. J'ai demandé deux jours de congé à mon patron et il ne pouvait pas me les refuser avec une excuse pareille. Mais il n'avait pas l'air content. Je lui ai même dit : "Ce n'est pas de ma faute." II n'a pas répondu. J'ai pensé alors que je n'aurais pas dû lui dire cela. En somme, je n'avais pas à m'excuser. C'était plutôt à lui de me présenter ses condoléances. Mais il le fera sans doute après-demain, quand il me verra en deuil. Pour le moment, c'est un peu comme si maman n'était pas morte. Après l'enterrement, au contraire, ce sera une affaire classée et tout aura revêtu une allure plus officielle.

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  4. Maurice, I was never really part of it. You can blame Stalin. My parents are atheists, too.

    Glass, that's probably a good idea.

    ... I hope you weren't at a restaurant while posting that, otherwise that plan just went out the window.

    ., I'll assume that's the first paragraph of The Stranger. Too bad I don't know French.

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  5. It's always good to have a little faith in something. Even if it doesn't always help you in the ways that you want. It's good to keep some kind of faith. In a god, in a person, yourself (especially in yourself), an idea... Something. Something to center your mind on.

    It's hard, sometimes, when everyone seems to keep dying or disappearing. But it's something to hold on to when the paranoia and the hopelessness start to creep in. Something to wrap yourself up in and hide inside, where you can make a place where everything isn't so dark after the sun goes down, or when it is stolen from you.

    -Michenab

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  6. Thanks, Michenab. That's... Good advice.

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  7. Yeah, don't turn to organised religion. Monsters lie down in that direction -- it's a much better idea to believe in yourself or a symbol.

    An idea... haha, it makes one think for Core Theory. Such a shame.

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  8. Believe in a symbol? Yeah, reminds me of Core Theory and that mess. I'm not holding out for a hero; it's just an unrealistic fantasy.

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  9. Indeed. If you want a hero, you find it; or, you make it. Neither is wise; there'll be no hero dashing in to save you -- or, indeed, us. There are only human beings.

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  10. I like your way of thinking.

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  11. Heroes are the work of fiction. They are people who have done good acts, but who knows what other things they have done. You are right to say that no hero will save you.

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  12. But of course.

    For every saint, a past; for every sinner, a future. Is that not so?

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