Thursday, April 7, 2011

Third Blog.

I love how many people are telling me this tiny font is hard to read, which only motivates me to keep using it.
Shut up.

I figured I'd start off on a happier note, you know, something that makes you jump and knock your ankles together mid-air (which would normally freeze frame, but I'm mean and am not allowing that because it would slow down this blog). I really should stop inserting all the random (distracting) thoughts that come into play that sound like good examples when they really aren't. Do you even understand my rambles? What the hell are you doing here then if you don't? Shoo, go, go away. I have stuff to do. Like figure out why my TV keep acting stupid. It kept spliting screen in the other room, then did this 3D look, as if you weren't wearing glasses. Which woke my ass up and I yelled at nothing, scaring the shit out of my dogs to which I apologized to them and for some reason told them as an excuse I was rehersing a play. Yea, I don't know either. I just passed out after that in my throne giant chair. Now it is saying there is something wrong with the service and I'm stuck watching only shitty channel. Or, mostly shitty channels. Sorry sarcastic or educational shows, I'm stuck watching FOX News.

Like inform all of you I need some fine tuning.
No, that's not an invite for some of you following this channel.
Back to fine tuning. There is a hole in my head. Ha, no, no my good enemies--and friends. I did not misfire a gun, nor did someone shoot me. But it's bound to happen. I mean I found a hole in my shield while speaking to a friend (are we at friends yet? I have no idea. Friendship takes a hell of a long time to form with me, but you know what, for the sake of me shutting up from rambling we're sticking with that). As I was typing I realized that, "Oh shit, what the hell do I know about my childhood?" and to answer that... Not much. I've run into plenty of doors and walls, none bad enough to ruin my memory. I remember 8th grade, timeline in there is a bit off. 7th grade still remember a bit. 6th, not so great. 5th, I remember getting in a fucked up accident, but nothing head related. Unless the drugs did that. Which, again, is unlikely. Probably would of worn off by now. And the accident, despite going into turtle mode (aka, hiding in a shell, aka my room for a long ass time after it) it wasn't the problem. If it was the problem it would of settled in sooner.

So I draw out this equation:
5h (ageIdon'tremember) + Bad accident = Vulnerability

Why do I suggest this instead of the idea it could be from the accident itself? Because I know myself (myself you know, my past self or something like that). Perhaps it would be easier if I explained just what the hell type of kid I was, or remember myself to be for the most part. Please be patient, I'm going to be jumping back and forth despite trying not to because there are fragments I remember, while there is a lot I don't. I can only go on the memories I have written down, heard, or still remember.

So... As a child I found myself in a lot of mischief. I would explore where I shouldn't explore. And tried to set off a lot of emergency exits. I was plagued at an early age with reoccurring dreams. I cannot give the specific age because I do not even remember it, they have always been there since I was able to remember dreams to begin with.  I'm not going to go into the dream aside from it revolving around driving with my family, comes to a four way intersection, seeing a black hooded figure to the left in the distance just staring, getting out of the car with fear and dread, having my family drive off (because I made them), becoming the main focus of the hooded figure, running through the field, running through the woods, running through a small cabin in the woods in the night, being thrown around and eventually jumping out a second story window, running through the woods again, back to the four way intersection, down into a water line for the rain water to travel through, being attacked by him, nearly killed, by I end up on top killing him instead. Every time. Every year between Jan. - Just before spring. And yes, that was one long ass sentence, shut up. But I'm always different ages, what bugged me most when I first had the dream was that I was just a kid, literally, in my youth, as in around 10 or younger. I've had dreams with a similar figure, all reoccurring. The second most popular one is in my basement, running, hiding, fighting.

Even between those I've had dreams in my old living room, well, how it used to look at least. I'd be sitting on the couch and hear a tapping from the window behind me, and there is clearly a figure there but I never turned to look at who or what it was. That dream finally continued last year, technically a few months ago. I was a child again, sitting on the old couch that used to be there, and the tapping came. There was a figure there and I opened the shades to find Him. That was the last dream of Him I had in months, and before that it was literally (if you haven't read my first blog) for about three and a half months of weekly dreams relating to Him. If you go to the first blog it will explain it all... For the most part.

Also from the first blog I told you my sibling and I used to talk/see things as children. It happened for quite a while and then bam! Ended. Which is weird because that is what happened with some of my dreams I had as a kid. And you know it is really fun to hear from your parents, "Oh, by the way, you used to talk to things during the night. Your father and I would come into your room and ask who you were talking to and you'd just say "The Man" and when we asked where he went you'd point to the wall." Thanks. XoXo. Ughs. The thing is the more I pick apart my own brain, the more I try and put together my own timeline, the more I realize that the dreams and the sightings stopped around the same time. And the thing is ever since then I lacked any desire to go walking into the woods behind my house too (which I used to sneak into frequently, even made a nice fort there). Ok, if you're still here then come on, you really still think I'm rambling nonsense, that it was just the accident (which had nothing to do with my head). I thought of the possibilities, but there is no way it was the accident. It may have altered some of who I am, but it did not alter my memories.

I don't know who it was coming and paying me visits long after it stopped paying my sibling visits, the same sibling that has no memory what-so-ever of it while I still retain SOMETHING. So what does this all mean? Where am I going with this? I. Have. No. Fucking. Clue. Ha! I don't know what I was talking to, who it could of been. I don't remember some things still, it's like parts of my mind was just erased. Like no one bothered to fill in what was removed. It does piss me off that there are just blank spots. As you all know by now I like being in control of myself. Until now I was in control of myself, and while I still am there is a problem. I do not know myself anymore as I did before today/tonight. Which means I'm going to have to repair the hole in my head. It's a risk to even post this, while I doubt I'm on anyone’s/things list to fuck with I still am uncomfortable in knowing there is a possible vulnerability that's quite easy to access.

So this becomes not just a rambling on how I'm a bit fucked for the moment, but a heads up. Look back into your own timeline. It's one thing to protect who you are now, in the present. To know yourself now. It's another thing to know your past self, your youth, your childhood. Do you remember? Can you dig into your own head and find yourself? I can't at the moment. Trust me here, me and my self-projected person in my head are tearing through my memories. It's like a really slow system scan on a computer, I hate it. But the point is, look for yourself. If you can't say you know who you were presently, that there are pieces missing, then those blank spots will get abused. They have the potential to be filled with false memories, with lies that you will believe to be true. That you'll feel such a connection with you won't even remember. This isn't just about the present, this is messing with your childhood, people. Look back into your days of the young, seek your roots. Remember your memories from there and protect who you once were, that kid, and who you are now. It's just as important to protect as it is to protect the future. If you leave out one then you are tainting the chance at the other. Aka, you'll never be whole. I guess that would of been just better to bluntly say.

So I'm going to still be here helping everyone I can. But I'm going to have to focus on this too. I mean, it would be pretty pointless if I was helping people without being protected myself, right? Right? Right. So... Paranoia level will be on high alert. If you cannot tell by now with my posting this at nearly 4:00 A.M., sigh. It's becoming troublesome to sleep again at night. I keep waking up to these slams or persistent tapping against the window on the wall of the outside of my house. And to clarify, no, there is nothing outside either of my windows. The front window is well, on the porch (hehe for old sneak outs during the night) while the other is like a ten foot drop or so. Ok, not that much. But I have to jump as high as I can to get back into my room. It's a bitch to climb through when your other window "accidentally" gets locked. Not the point.

Lately my dreams seem to be consisting of mazes and dark clad figures. Last night was some warehouse in this snowy area. The inside pretty much was a maze with all the crates, and I was running from something while looking for something. It was so fricking dark though and my senses were off the fritz. You know how your eyes adjust to changes in lighting? Like if it is lights out your eyes will adjust to see a bit better. The warehouse still had moonlight shining through and mine did that, but that was pretty much it. Hearing, sound, sense of direction, it was all off. Which didn't feel good when being stalked. I don't remember how it ended aside from running into a dead end, with this crane-like crate mover thing, and footsteps coming up from the darkness behind me.

The thing is, this figure seems to have been popping up not just recently, since my interest returned in this particular topic (don't play dumb). The same one I had dreams of as a kid when all this stuff was going on. My same friend made a point. These things disappeared for years and only came back now/are now coming back that I've been reintroduced to these myths, since I've become a part of this struggle. I still have a lot to uncover with whatever happened back then, but at least now I am aware and realize that there are holes I need to fill. Openings in my shield, if you will.

So when it boils down it all I guess all this shit is relevant to what is going on. I always have been looking to others as the true prey, the talented ones, while I myself was just an onlooker. But I think I'm going to be discovering things about myself I didn't consider. Maybe my boring as hell self houses more than I know, as ridiculous as it sounds. Seeing things, hearing them, dreaming, experiencing all of this in general is just crazy. And the worst part of it is it doesn't feel new, which might be good because it does help add more plausible reason to my ramblings. But it is still bad news for now since I lack specific details as to why that is, aside from the vague telling of my past.

This also brings up a rather personal matter. Does this mean, all these years of thinking of myself as boring, unimpressive, and pretty much keeping invisible for such thoughts means that I made myself think that way? So I wouldn't remember too? Have I just been setting myself up into believing I wasn't important to protect myself, so when this all started happening, if it ever did, that I wouldn't be caught in it? There are a lot of questions. So many. I keep finding myself looking into the reflection of my laptop and seeing the tired face I've grown into and wondering if I really am the one in control, or if I am living by the guidelines of the child that cannot be remembered at this time.

For now I am stuck wondering while I hunt for answers. While I am here helping people, helping forgotten ones. Well, I have no idea what gate I'm about to open but I can't just sit here and let this vulnerable opening linger. Past, here I come. Let’s see what hell you've got for me so that I can incorporate it into who I am and stand taller, become stronger, and get one step closer to being whole.

It's nearly 5:00 A.M. now, I'm going to sleep.
Good luck, stay safe, and remember who you were.


P.S.: TV fixed itself. Thought I'd let you know before I get spammed with "Did yer' tele git fixed oar wut? Lol!" -_-


  1. Horrors... Faux news. Have you no books? ;-)

    Does every child go through a self-confinement phase, or just the introverted/independent ones? I know my father called my room, my "gloom" and sometimes my "tomb," but he wasn't a nice man.

    And yes, you already know you're right. Trying to protect others with chinks in your armor would make you little more than a speed bump between Him and his prey.

    But did you make yourself think you were boring or were you made to think of yourself that way so your development would be hindered. As if you were put on ice while other matters were attended to...

    Just some thoughts...

  2. Haha, none that I could focus on.

    I have no idea, none of my "friends" did, nor anyone I know even now went through it that I know of. Eh... People just called it my "hide-out".

    While a speed bump might delay momentarily it still isn't efficent enough. That much I know of.

    Bloody hell, niether of those options are pleasant. Either way either I am blocking myself from something or something was blocking me from it, which still means I need to figure it out. Thank you for stating that, I think it might help in the long run.