Monday, 6 August 2012

A mysterious message

I received a text from Penny/Tik today. It was from Tik's number, which means it is either Tik, or Penny pretending to be tik.

"Day Two. Got to sleep, wake up and find out the truth."

I don't know what the fuck it means. One of the posts on this blog is tagged "day two" and one of the posts on TWFNO is also tagged "day two." and "the truth".

I don't know what "day two" means. It could possibly refer to my two-day coma, but I'm not sure. I don't remember dreaming during that time.

I'm looking into lucid dreaming now. I don't know what I'm going to find.

I'm going to stop with the Kitten Mondays from now on. Maybe when everything is alright, I'll start them up again.

Thursday, 2 August 2012

I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry.

I've been...lost, for a while. A long while. Years, maybe. You can't understand a situation when you're at the centre of it. You can't see fog while you are in the middle of it.

I'm not sure what's safe anymore. Home isn't, school isn't. Being awake or asleep or dreaming or Dreaming isn't. My parents aren't safe, my siblings aren't safe. Tik is...dead, I think. I sent an email to H, of "My Name Was H", but he was compromised himself in an attempt to help me.

I don't know why I matter so much, that He That Is hasn't just given up and moved on to somebody more useful.

My dreams are normal now. I coma'd out for three days, spent two and a half weeks remembering jack shit about all this, and now I feel...fine. Normal. Better than I've ever felt, really. I mean, I still hallucinate- vividly- but I feel less tired, less powerless.

I get the feeling something awful is about to happen.

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

tick, tock

I'm so tired.

I want to close my eyes, fall back and spiral down into blissful, dreamless oblivion.

I want to

s l e ep/...

Monday, 7 May 2012

nightmare orchestra

I can't tell when I'm waking or sleeping anymore.

I've been posting every day since last wednesday, but I'm not sure if any of them are going through. I'm pretty sure I'm awake now cause I just cut my own throat in my dream and now I'm in my room, so I'm typing this before I lose more time. According to Tik I'm functioning normally from the outside, but I never know if I'm in the dream world or not until I take a leap of faith and swan-dive out the window or stab myself in the gut.

I don't necessarily have to die in the dream world to snap back out of it, I just need to hurt myself, but nonfatal wounds stay with me when I wake up. My school counsellor is trying to get me to see a psychologist about my "self-harm."

Sunday, 29 April 2012


I don't understand.

I woke up this morning bleeding from multiple cuts on my legs and feet.

Like I'd actually been in the dream-maze, instead of just dreaming.

I can't make sense of it.

I've tried to record some video logs, but He keeps singing in parts, and I want to expose other people to the song as little as possible. The other  vlogs are actually really irresponsible about the singing, I don't even know what to tell them. Just cut it out of the audio, if your film software's sophisticated enough.

I watched as many vlogs as I could get my hands on a few months back. That was when things started getting worse, and now I know why. He sings, and our electronics can pick it up. You see it, you hear it, and he can see and hear you too.

Tuesday, 24 April 2012

requiem of the waking dreamer

I can't trust my own perception of reality anymore. I used to know the difference between dreaming and Dreaming, between illusions in my waking hours, my dreams, and the real world. I don't know anymore, and I'm really sorry. 

He sings to us, and we fall in step like a dance troupe made of marionettes, forced to sing the words to a song that kills our friends and make the steps in His sick choreography.

Sometimes I wonder if my life beforehand was the true dream. Going to school, having friends and a family, thinking about the things normal girls think about, like friends and boys and dreams not populated by faceless puppet masters, turning us against each other and watching us tear each other apart. I just dreamed that to escape, to feel happy. I've always been in the mazes, jumping through hoops for the chance to be happy for a while.

i find it kind of funny

i find it kind of sad

the dreams in which I'm dying

are the best i've ever had.

Monday, 16 April 2012

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