Damnit

Damnit

Damknit

DAMNIT

Drained at 11:17 A.M. Where am I? Who am I? I remember being someone, but I don't really know who taht is anymore. I'm done', I'm done with this shit. The wondering what's happening and

12:12 P.M. Shit. I'm sorry. I don't know what keeps happening to me. I was in a different room than the one I am currently in and now I lost an hour. I don't see any of this changing anything, though. I'm done. Done. Heh. Like I have a choice. Maybe I do. Maybe we all do. See, I'm taking my little episodes of slipping in and out as a sign that maybe I should have done this a long, long time ago. Maybe it's time for a change.

12:15 P.M. Maybe. Saying that a lot now. Not just on here. In my head. Maybe. Maybe we should stop typing, I tell myself. That'd be the fastest way out of this shit. But I can't. It's... it's a compulsion. I see the words and they don't beg, they demand, to be seen, to be heard. For all to see. Coughing. Ugh. Feel like I ate something, but I don't remember it. I don't know how I'd have paid for it anyway, I can barely remember last...

12:17 P.M. What happened last month? It's the 29th? Of February? So it's a leap year, I must have missed that when these fuckers were fucking with me and fuck what' the hell am I doing here damnit I want some fucking answers and I want them NOW

12:18 P.M. Calm. Calmer. That last bit wrote itself pretty furiously. Drew more than a little attention to myself when I was slamming the keys down. Feeling a little better. But only a little. Still have no idea what's going on with this lost time bullshit and what the point of it all is. I

...12:19 P.M. Or is it 12:18 P.M.? My watch is a minute slower than my computer clock, but I remember synching them up a few months ago. hrm. I don't like not knowing what time it is. I'll go with the computer clock for now, but I'd like a definite answer to this as soon as I can think of one. Don't know if it's significant enough to warrant this level of worry, but I'd rather take note of it than let it slide and have it be important later on.

12:21 P.M. Sneezing. Feel congested. Saw a darkish figure duck into the parking garage across the street, but I seriously doubt it's worth worrying about. No, if that was about me they'd be headed for that other place, which I can remember but cannot recall what it is. Don't you hate it when you remember stuff happening before you can remember, yet having it still be vivid enough for you to know you should know about it? Like talking to someone about carpooling. That's something you'd think I would remember. But nope, no idea when or where that's supposed to be happening. I'm kind of hoping it's just supposed to be here and whoever it is I'm riding with knows what's up and thinks to give me a call.

12:25 P.M. blood Well that's still the same at least. Nice to know the one constant in this is that whenever I write about that I'll have no control over it turning into some creepy-assed cryptic message that doesn't even really look like much of a message to begin with. Good job, creepy people/things. I'm almost kind of scared. Almost. For now I'm much more concerned with what me falling in and out of consciousness is supposed to signify. Oh, btw, tired. Yeah, I'm fucking tired alright. Feel like I didn't sleep a wink last night, not that I'd know anything about that.

12:28 P.M. Feel congested. Sleep dep is making it hard to think. Making stupid errors that I keep having to go back and correct, starting to feel myself slipping into sleep. Closing my eyes a little at a time to see if that relieves it any while I try to write. Nope. Just makes me want to sleep that much more. Damnit. I could really use a bed right now. No idea how I made it out here in this condition. ffffffffffffffsssssssssssssssssssssssss. Sigh.

12:31 P.M. Trying to see if I can sleep a little, posting this then going to try again. Night.

Failure

The man behind the curtain rarely comes out to let you know you're screwing up his play. Imagine my surprise when just that happened, only not in the way one would imagine it happening...

It was more like a firing, only rather than being asked to clean off your desk and leave, you're placed in a stasis chamber and given a date and time of when you'll wake up. Only when you do, it's on a bed at... 11:33 P.M., EST. On the 15th. Of January.

My nails are long, telling me that I've probably not been in cryo or whatever but more likely just forgotten everything that has led up to this ppoint. I'm fairly certain that I just slipped up again, somewhere, but I don't have the resources to figure out what that was. I need to get my bearings and determine what needs to be done.

11:36 P.M. The only real good thing about all this is in how I don't currently feel tired. Whatever happened seems to have cleared that up rather well, so I'll devote this time to determining what may have caused this/// amnesia.

11:37 P.M. Again, I'm on a bed, my bed, at home. Apparently I need to clean my sheets, or something else could be making that smell. To clarify, I woke up with my laptop open, this blog open, with the title awaiting a name. I figured since I could barely remember where I was, "Success" was not a valid option.

11:39 P.M. I should throw on some shoes and run out to see if anything has changed in regards to my house or what have you, but right now I feel like all my answers are going to be found on here. Oof. I just had a hunger pang. Now that I think about it, I may have not eaten in a month and a half. Be right back.

11:45 P.M. I have... fresh food in my fridge. And in the pantry. terrifying. It could be that I had an amnesia attack, though I doubt I could have just forgotten a month and a half. That's kind of silly. Yeah. silly like having gusts of wind assault your door.

11:50 P.M. Nails trimmed, sandwich made. Roast beef on rye with Swiss and lettuce, little brown mustard. Kinda hurts to swallow right now. Stomach feels empty. I mean like running on fumes empty. Alright, so maybe the frozen for 1.5 months theory is gaining ground on the amnesia one. I figured the food killed the other one, though if it doesn't where's the food from? (me)

.......11:52 P.M. Do that again. (sure) ...Fuck. Weren't you talking in all caps before? (nothim) Oh, good. Do me a favor and be silent for awhile. OK, nothing else showed up, so here. this is my mental breakdown. I didn't think it would happen like this, but whatever. (notbreakdown)(seeingforfirsttime) Fuck you, seeing what? Seeing how I lost a month? Again? Seeing how this shit doesn't make any sense? (n no, you shut up now. I'm talking. 11:56 P.M. You shut up. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'll be damned if I'm just gonna lie down and take it.

11:57 P.M. It's gone for now. I don't know who it's working for, I just know I've had it with these... whatever they are. I'm gonna finish eating, then I'm going out to see if I can determine just what the hell is really happening. 11:59 P.M., leaving now.

Uhhhgh

Damnit this hurts. Head. Not body. Damn. I feel like I was forced to sit through a 3-day marathon of art films with no discernible meaning. Cripes. I need a drink. A real drink. And some answers.

Your answers are probably going to have to wait, number one of which is probably where the hell I've been. Oh, by the way, 3:50 P.M. Pretty sure I only started a few minutes ago, but what do I know.

3:51 P.M. Tired. Real tired. not like those whiny "Tired" tags posts. That was sunshine and lollipops. I now experience something akin to seeing time at 1/1000th speed, with each letter taking a lifetime to appear on the screen. That's how it feels, at least. Still wanting that drink.

At university. At the university. Student Center. Not my usual spot. Not sure if that's relevant. Gonna make a note of it in case it becomes so anytime soon. Wanna know if anyone can fill me in on why it's December now when I can barely remember finishing October. Damnit.

Jacket feels new. Says Ohio, and I'm in _______ so I probably went home sometime last month. Probably for Thanksgiving. Yeah, I saw the blank space. So those are still there. Good. I'm glad. _______ shall remain my secret base of operations no matter how drunk I Blog. _______ _______ _______ bahahaha that's awesome. Speaking of hahaha...

Yes, I also saw the laughing whatever which comprised the latest post. I see THEY took over again. Whoopie-____ for all that. Oh, that last blank was me btw. I feel like cursing less and keeping this pg or some ____ like that, but I still feel like doing the normal crap so I just blank it. Take that, THEY. _______s.

Did I mention I'm tired? Really feeling that now. Really feeling it. Like I was whacked over the head with a barbell and laid out. Need to figure out where this sluggishness is coming from. Also hoping this doesn't become progressively worse. ____ like getting drowsy while driving won't be good for the ol' staying alive plan. Then again neither is forgetting a month.

4 P.M. Caught up on ____ and the boys, saw how they were doing. Looks like they're having a hell of a time dealing with their tormentors. Need to figure out if there's a connection or if this is something completely different altogether. Just because a croc is eating the fish doesn't mean it's the same thing coming into your backyard and... I have no idea what I was doing with that metaphor. Maybe tired. Yes.

4:02 P.M. Posting thiss. Before I go into a coma. Yes. Go sleep now..................../

Hahahahahahahahahahahaha

Hahahahahaha hahaha hahahahahahahahahahaha hahahaha
hahahaha

HAHAHAHA

OHOHAHAHEHEHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHA

HAHAHAHAHA



PFFT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

AHAHAHAHAHA, AHA, AHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HEHEHEHOHAHAHAHEHEHOHOHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HA

So It Hits Me

I may have MPD.

Yeah, it seems like I'm trying to cop out with an explanation like this, but it tracks with what I've been through in the past. The times I've passed out before, when I'm in one place at one moment and then suddenly I'm somewhere else and it's a lot later... it makes a hell of a lot more sense than the idea that there's some freakish monstrosity after me.

What's more likely? Some giant, otherworldly thing stalking you, or you have a psychotic break? I'm going with the "I have a mental disorder" scenario until I find definite proof there is something

11:04 P.M. Went to the bathroom. Nothing happened in terms of a blackout or lost time, just forgot to post when I started. So, again. Until I have proof beyond a reasonable doubt there is something supernatural going on here, I'm leaning towards me being crazy as the more likely culprit. Not that I'm exactly enthusiastic about me being crazy, let alone being stalked by who knows what. Hell, it may indeed be both happening at the same time, and I jjust can't tell the difference. What a crappy time that would be.

11:07 P.MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. M key s being a bitch, as is the I. A sees to be back to normal. I'm guessing there's cruft or it's just sticking. Joy. Laptop's only, what, 8 months old now? 6? That's a great sign. I might have to go ahead and take it down to Fry's or Best Buy sometime to get it checked out. Power Cord had a piece get ripped out too. All this stuff is just turning to trash right before my eyes and there's nothing I can do about it. Buh.

11:11 P.M. Soda I drank a minute ago is starting to take effect. I don't get hyper per se from drinking caffeine, but my heart always goes into overdrive and I start working a hell of a lot faster when I do. Only problem seems to be when I finish writing my latest thought, it takes my mind a minute to come up with something new.  Even that took me a minute to think up. Buh again.

11:13 P.M. OK, back on topic. My mind seems to blank out occasionally, and I don't really have recording equipment sophisticated enough to handle recording above 480p or for longer then... maybe 2.5 hours. Not great at all. Starting to feel defeated, or tired. Maybe defeated is the wrong word. Deflated, there we go. I'm feeling like a balloon that had all the air released from it. Buh x 3.

11:17 P.M. Well, this little post has been cheery and upbeat so far, why not stop while we're ahead. Or behind. Hell, I don't even know what I am anymore. I might come back sometime tomorrow if I have a epiphany about what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe.

The Really Tired Update

1:20 P.M. There comes a time in every person's life when they need to take a deep breath, look at themselves in the mirror, and ask themselves: Who the hell are you? Not in terms of what you want to do with the rest of your life; no, you can't do that in an afternoon. The real purpose of asking this particular question is to find the answer of who you are at this particular instant. Last night I discovered, after a binge session of deep introspective thought and attempting to stay awake lest something horrible come for me in the darkness, that I am a coward.

1:23 P.M. There's nothing wrong with this, per se. You don't have to be the courageous hero, taking on all odds no matter the stakes. There are only supposed to be a select few of those, and they probably have the training and builds to handle said activities. I myself have a preponderance to bleeding when confronted with things that have the strength to buffet one's door like a miniature hurricane. That's just me, though. After the calm arrived about, oh, three hours later, I dared to step outside my bedroom with a blunt instrument along the lines of a DVD box set of Stargate: SG-1, back when they were using the bulky DVD cases. In retrospect, I probably should have grabbed the rock I've had sitting on my shelf all these years. Oh well, retrospect, hindsight, etc.

Upon examination of the exterior of my bedroom door, I saw absolutely no marks of any kind upon it. Nothing. I'm talking I had a dog once that did more damage scratching the base in an attempt to be let in for bed it was so pristine. I'm guessing there's some correlation between the messages from THEY or whatever took over my blog before and this. Not jumping to conclusions just yet, but I'm keeping it in mind. When something says it wants you dead and something like this happens, you gotta take everything you can into account.

1:29 P.M. My head's killing me. I didn't get any sleep at all last night. grabbed an hour back around 8, 9 A.M. Still tired. Going to try to sleep early so I can catch up and then work on some more research on whatever the hell might be happening here. I don't really have much of an idea in terms of what I should be looking for, though I feel like I'll know what I'm looking for when I find it.

1:36 P.M. I was distracted for a moment. Low sleep makes it hard to concentrate on just one thing. I keep checking the time, though now it's not the standard "Have I been thrown forward" side-glances. I'm looking every few seconds because it feels like forever has passed by and then I see it hasn't even been a whole minute. I normally pound out a few thoughts per minute here, but it's 1:39 P.M. and all I can think is why can't I stop focusing on what time it is? I feel like there's something important I'm forgetting, something vital... but then I get distracted and forget what I was thinking about. Rinse, repeat. It can get so droll, I eventually lose interest and start thinking about something else and wham, I can't get back to where I was.

1:40 P.M. Well, 1:41 P.M. now. Meh. I'm finding it hard to talk about my research when all I have to report in is my lack of reliable research that I've found so far. This is really devastating, looking for just one thing that can help me make heads or tails of whatever's going on, and all I can find is irrelevant texts and crackpot theories from people who want to appear smart by using big words in order to make people respect them. When someone like me can see through your bullshit on low sleep and a torrent of psychosis, it makes me think either they're an idiot or I'm so sleep deprived and/or freaked out from the latest occurrences of paranormal activity that I can't clearly determine what is or is not helpful. At least I have the presence of mind to email myself the call numbers of the books I've been looking at so I can return with a clear head and give them a second chance.

1:45 P.M. My head isn't pounding, but it still feels like it's in a fishbowl. You know those commercials, where they show someone with their head in an actual fishbowl? When I was younger, I could never imagine I would feel what that was like within my lifetime. Well congrats kiddo, we finally reached that awkward age where you want to stay up all night but your body just doesn't think it can handle this shit anymore. Tough luck, time to drink some Darjeeling tea and set an earlier bedtime. Especially if mini-hurricanes are going to become a recurring thing. I wonder if white noise machines can cancel that out...

1:48 P.M. I need to start wrapping this up. Becoming distracted, and that's never a good thing. I get wacky when I'm distracted, and I'd like to keep this a wacky free zone. If I can think of anything else that could be considered relevant, I'll try to make a note of it so I can look it over later on and post it with my next update. I promise I'll attempt to sleep better tonight, though if any disturbances occur I can't guarantee anything. Wish me luck.

1:50 P.M. - P.S., it looks like there's been little to no sign of my parenthetical madness writing. Maybe not censoring my thoughts is giving it a vacation for awhile. Welp, anything that makes me look saner, I'll take it. Alright, later.

Heh

2:06 P.M. Locking me out. Not cool, boyo. Changing my avatar? Meh. I've seen it happen before. Doubt it's the same people bothering ____. I

2:08 P.M. Names are being censored. I was going to continue on in my pissed off little rant to see if I could get to the bottom of the problem, but hell if I have an answer for what's causing this. ____'s busy with ___ shit really? Pronouns get shafted? Really?

2:10 P.M. Taking my time working out what's going on here. I lost control of the account after the 31st. I lost time, which is what happened between 3:20 P.M. to 6:32 P.M., and then again from then to 10:46 P.M. on August 31st. I had a 3 hour lapse, then a 4 hour one. Then things just slipped on by. I guess I should also say it's the 22nd of September, 2011, just in case those start becoming days of lost time instead of hours.

2:14 P.M. I'm at the university, and have been since I started writing this post. I want to get that out of the way in case something happens that causes a time lapse which changes my location. My car pool should be here at 4 and I don't want to suddenly be at home, wondering what the hell happened. Good, I've got that out of the way. So here we are. I guess I should start at the beginning.

2:17 P.M. I have no idea what's going on with the woman with the messed up face. The URL says Oasis%2BScream, or "Oasis Scream", I guess. I'm trying to find out what it means in relation to whoever jacked my blog and why they would replace my avatar with it. Don't think it has anything to do with the band, but I'm not willing to deny anything an opportunity to prove its relation to what the hell is going on. Not much else to go on here. It's not like I'll be able to figure what "THEY" or "HERE" mean for some time, let alone what whoever jacked my blog means by the "nobody" tags.

Speaking of, what's up with the messed up spacing? Why the vertical lines? Why leave a "signature" of five spaces ended with one (For any skeptics thinking I'm pulling a fast one, I can edit the posts and count; hell, highlight the empty space between the mark, five spaces exactly)? What's the significance? And hell, what are their demands? That I commit suicide? That "kill yourself" title didn't exactly leave any room to the imagination, did it.

2:27 P.M. I'm back on my medication. Forgot to mention that. Looking back at some of the stuff I've written. I seriously feel bad for anyone reading it. There's a load of crazy down there (Did I really give my a and q keys shit a month ago?), and I'm not particularly proud of it. Having said that, now, the PLAYER stuff is legit. I can tell you that. Through the haze I was in back then, I remember that PLAYERs are important, blood is important, and the parenthesis are important. That is, the ones with ALLCAPS going on. The ones I did up there are real asides, I remember the ALLCAPS ones kind of showing up as spontaneously as blood <--that.

2:32 P.M. Trying to keep better track of what time it is now. No arbitrary limits, no "every ten minutes" crap anymore, I'm just placing it when enough time has passed for me and I feel like I should do it. Still at the university. Still surrounded by (mostly) normal people. I don't really see anything too weird, other that the PLAYERs this and the blood that etc.etc. Haven't really pulled at the skin around my fingers as much as I used to lately, so that's good.

2:35 P.M. Don't worry, I know it's probably Him, but being a man of Criminal Justice I really don't like ruling things out to the point where all you can see is the man in the shadows. Why strain your eyes when there is a perfectly reasonable explanation in the psychopaths lurking around on the internet? Then again, I haven't really advertised this to many people... knowing what I know about Him, telling anyone who doesn't know is a really fast way to endanger their lives.

2:41 P.M. 2:45 now. OK everyone, it's almost time for Lesson Two. I don't want to give too much away, but I will say this: You can't change the past. No matter how badly things went, you can't head back and tell yourself what to do to bounce back from it. I'd try to tie the Lesson into this post, but I am feeling damn tired after all this talking, and I haven't changed everything back yet. Might not be able to, like with ____'s channel. More blocking. Great. Lovely.

2:49- no, 2:50 P.M. Headache coming on, same as last time. Might be trying to tell myself something subliminally. Who knows, all I understand is this is pissing me off. I don't like being censored, and something or someone is messing with my blog. Or maybe it's my mind. Maybe I'm doing it myself in a mini-version of those blackouts, I type something and some override activates, making me want to change it. Whee, now I think I'm a robot. Joy. This is awesome. I wonder if I'm subject to Asimov's Laws of Robotics.

2:53 P.M. Blood coming out of the little tear I made when I chewed some skin off near my thumbnail. Either I have really good designers, or I'm not a robot. Learned something either way.

2:55 P.M. Alright, I'm calling it for now. I'll see if I can change some of these profile modifications, after I take some screenshots. Later.