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.
Monday, 6 August 2012
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.
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.
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