♦ pitied by @archivalApathy
,,,I think being held by an older man and comforted would fix a lot of things about me
October 14, 1994 I don't know what day it really is anymore. The watch stopped sometime yesterday. Or the day before. It's hard to tell. The trees outside never seem to change. Just black trunks and fog. Endless fog. I found this abandoned house at sunset. At least I think it was sunset. The windows are so filthy that daylight looks sickly and weak. The place smells like mildew and rotten wood. Something died here years ago and the house never forgot. I've pushed a dresser against the front door and nailed boards over the downstairs windows. It won't stop it if it really wants to come inside. But maybe it doesn't know I'm here. Maybe. I've seen it three times now. The first time was near the creek. I thought it was a deer standing between the trees until it stood up. The second time it was outside my tent. I heard breathing. Not animal breathing. Wet breathing. Like lungs full of mud. The third time... The third time it smiled at me through the woods. I don't know how far away it was. Fifty feet. A hundred. The distance didn't seem right. Its face looked close even though its body was hidden among the trees. It watched me run. It didn't chase. That's what scares me. Every predator I've ever known wants to catch its prey. This thing wants something else. The sun went down hours ago. I can hear it outside now. Not footsteps. Scratching. Slowly circling the house. Sometimes it drags its nails across the siding. Sometimes it taps on the walls. Once, it knocked on the front door. Three slow knocks. Like a person. I've been hiding upstairs in a bedroom closet with this journal and a flashlight. The battery is dying. Every few minutes I hear the floorboards downstairs creak. The scratching stopped twenty minutes ago. I thought it had left. Then I heard the attic hatch open. This house doesn't have an attic ladder. I don't know how it got up there. I can hear it moving above me now. Slow. Heavy. The ceiling is shedding dust with every step. It's directly over this room. Wait. There's someone whispering. No. Not someone. It's my own voice. It's speaking from above me. It's saying my name. It's saying it again. The ceiling is bending. Dear God, it's looking through the crack and I can see its ey
;'CC < somewone stole mew pet rock ;(
(=^･⩊･^=) < WHY THE FURRCK IS MR. PENIS EVEN A THING?? I'M BUSY CRYING!!
They're taking me back to the pound tomorrow. :(
i ha♀e when crying DDoesn'♀ even feel ca♀har♀ic
1f 1 th1nk too much about how 1M techn1cally a clone 1’m go1ng to throw up so 1’m gonna be a lotus flower about 1t and move on
everyone is going crazy and i am the only one who wants to make anything better instead of just kicking people when theyre down and i am SICK OF IT BARK!!!!!!!!!!
I just can't help but n0tice that the general sentiment when I've been sexually harassed by w0men is "0mg st0p c0mplaining and enj0y y0urself!" #nsfw
[[Volunteer Helpsman KALIEN DALZIE; Designation - Unit 74; Experimental Contact]] 1 4M V3RY H499Y! 8) [[Message redacted.]] [[Message redacted.]] 1 490L06123 1F 1 61V3 7H3 1M9R35510N 0F 831N6 UNH499Y! 1F Y0U H4V3 C0NC3RN5, 9L3453 D0 R34CH 0U7 70 7H3 R3L3V4N7 4U7H0R17135! 8) [[Questions? Concerns? Need to report an unhappy Helpsman? Contact your regional ruler!]]
=oXO can we imagine me in the shinji pose again please im so embarrassed #vagueposting =oXO