Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Fuckin' Christmas, bitches

It's that time of the year again, and you know what that means, right?

YUP! TIME FOR MOVIES THAT MAKE YOU CRY!

The family and I went to see Les Miserables. I held it together for most of the movie until "A Little Fall of Rain" reached its climax. It broke me, man. I didn't cry much, but there were tears. It was a gorgeous film, and I highly recommend seeing it as long as you also bring some tissues with you.

In other news, my present highlights for this year!

Top 5 format because fuck you.

5: $25 iTunes gift card. It was promptly spent on the one Muse album I didn't have and my first ever Pendulum album.

4: Clothes! New pair of nice pants, a sweet pong shirt, and a stripey sweater. They all go really nicely together.

3: Sailor Moon Shirt! SAILOR MOON! It's fucking awesome. Thanks sis.

2: Set of 48 Prismacolors. I saw it and my jaw kinda hit the floor. I've always wanted a larger set of prismacolors and... well... NOW I HAVE ONE!

1: *drumroll*

THE FULL ADOBE SUITE.

Best. Present. Ever.

Photoshop, Flash, Fireworks, EVERYTHING.

This. This right here is the best thing that has happened to me in a long while... Okay, well there's something else that's better, but I ain't telling you that. Tis personal.

But yeah, I am going to do my best to learn the programs to their fullest and then use the shit outta them.

Onto other topics now.

Thursday, I will be heading out to go to my second ever convention. It's gonna be so fucking awesome. Just hope I can get someone to cash my check for me while I'm gone... Gonna need spending money <.<

What else... what else...

Oh, I know.

Dear Core Solstice,

I don't really know much about your group. All I really know is that you've got at least two members and know of some people I don't know about, and when I read into their existence, I was a bit put off. I would be quite happy if you would all kindly fuck off and leave me alone.

I don't want to be dragged into a war I used to be in, or, rather, thought I was in. I "got out" somehow and don't intend to go back in. You guys can fight valiantly for all eternity for all I care. I just want to be left alone by all those shenanigans.

And I swear by Tesla himself, you better stay out of Murphy. If you ever come here, I will hunt you down and beat some sense into you fucks. Real or not, I don't need your crazy bullshit polluting my town. I have enough to worry about with various drama, my job, and my own fucked up head.

Love,
Matthew

P.S. I'm serious. Don't come here.

And that's really all I can think to say.

To quote Snow:

Pay attention to detail, and please don't take anything to heart.

Toodaloo~

Friday, October 12, 2012

Bluh bluh

Alright, so the whole record my thoughts thing isn't going very well. Can't get my hands on a camera for a number of reasons, among them money and personal motivation. Sorry Dr. Traner, but I can't really bring myself to do it. I'll be happy to post stuff here, but the thought of recording myself and posting the video for the world to see is just... a bit disturbing to me. That and it plays into various facets of the thing that actually made me need you in the first place. (i.e. vlogging leads to haunting)

So what has been going on over here in NOOCtown?

Not a whole lot, to be perfectly honest.

Been getting gradually more and more fed up with various things, like people and their nonsensical demands that they aren't even really aware they are making.

Stress building over something with a time limit (read as "I need a certain amount of money to buy myself the birthday present I want, but I don't know if I can get it before the thing goes away forever").

I've been getting a lot of headaches lately. I think it's the stress from people's demands and the money thing just getting to me. That and my lack of sleep. But then again, if it wasn't for my mild insomnia, then I don't think I'd ever actually get around to updating this damn blog. So I guess thanks brain for making it impossible for me to sleep when I really want to. I mean, the headaches aren't bad really. I can just pop a couple ibuprofen and they go away. It's basically become a daily ritual. Some time from around 5 to 6 PM I can feel it build, and then by 8 or 9 I pop a couple pills to make it go away. Sometimes It's later than that though, like 12 to 1.

You know, I don't really know why I bother updating this thing anymore. Seriously, no one is around... and if some of the old blogs I followed are to be believed, most of my friends are dead in one way or another. I could just as easily just write this kind of stuff down in a journal that I bring to my sessions.

I dunno, maybe its therapeutic or something just putting words out there in a way I'm comfortable and familiar with. Nothing against you Dr. Traner. I'm just a creature of the internet, and this is what we do; ramble on about things that no one cares about in places no one will ever see.

...

I'm gonna try to sleep again. That seems like a good idea.

I'll probably just disappear again for a week or so.

We'll see...

-Matthew

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Explanation dump

All 0 of you are probably asking what the fuck happened between Friday and today.

Let me shed some light for all of your non-existent curious minds.

#1: NOOC rage on a whole new level

As some are aware, I have a few... anger issues. The rage wells up from time to time when the world just keeps spitting in my face and there's nothing I can do about it. My frustration comes out in a burst of anger that tends to be containable, but still damaging to both my psyche and to those around me. On the flip side of this, it can also lead to some more interesting moments in my life, e.g. points where I rage and then the object of my rage turns out to not be a problem at all, or the more famous (and since proven to be a hallucination) cussing out of a Revenant (those guys who also proved to be hallucination in a different sense).

You might imagine, then, that when I catch wind of my best friend's ex using her in a doped up state to buy him shit, I get a little bit fussy.

And by fussy, I mean filled with anger of everyone looking forward to Duke Nukem Forever as they discover that the game is just a turd shipped to them in a rectangle of plastic. (alternatively read as "the fury of the gods themselves", if that's more your cup of tea.)

I learned of this through a trusted friend who invited me to beat the shit out of the ex. I agreed that this would be a rather fun outing to have with this friend, and was saddened to learn that the only day he would be able to come get me for this would be Sunday.

Guess who had an appointment then?

Anyway, I instead calmed myself down (after throwing a few things around my room (read RIP shitty watch)) and got ready for the evening's outings, which brings me to...

#2: Magic the Gathering, a cautionary tale

In my previous post, I said that I was going to "...celebrate the world's best card game..." And I did.

Me and some friends went to the Road to Ravnica pre-release event at a local comic shop. It was awesome.

I chose the guild Izzet which uses blue and red mana to progress science ferociously. They are all about pushing science to and past its limits.

And then I lost at least 43 of my 0 readers.

Look, if you're actually interested in MTG, just say so in a comment and we'll nerd out.

Everyone else: MTG is a great game, but if you're not careful it eats all your money.

But of course, I know why none of you are here.

The appointment.

Here goes nothing...

#3 Of patients, patience, and problems

I arrived at my therapist's office at about 3. I was running a bit late, but that's what happens when your ride has to get ready before you go. The appointment was scheduled to start at 2:50, and I had to call in to say I would be late.

Regardless, I got there, and was immediately ushered into Dr. Traner's office. I always feel at ease in there. While normal doctors have the whole hyper clean rooms with the occasional poster framed on the wall, depicting some interest of their's, Dr. Traner has a nice blue carpet, wood panel walls, and books everywhere. And a lot of it isn't even medical books. He has about one shelf dedicated to medical books, and the rest (which pretty much covers most of the walls) are all novels, mostly fiction. Just about any kind of book you can think of, he has, as far as novels go at least. Sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, horror, romance: he's got it all. Normally, I'd sit in his office for half an hour as I wait for him to finish doing something, just reading one of his many books. Sunday was different however. I wasn't there at his call, he was there at mine.

I sat down on a wonderfully comfortable recliner and look over at his desk to find him staring quite intently at me. It was obvious he was assessing my general mood and health, and normally it doesn't bother me. This time it did.

Before I could collect my thoughts and begin to explain what was on my mind, he spoke up.

"What's bothering you, Matthew?"

I wanted to say that slenderman was, but that wouldn't go down well with him.

Instead, I got to what I called him for. "I wanted to talk about possible causes for... you know."

"Your episode?" He started calling it that in my third session. I never liked the term, but I didn't know what else to call it.

"Yeah. I just find it hard to believe it came from nowhere. And if there is some hidden cause, then we need to find it so I can't have another episode." Side note: the exact words said are hazy to me, but I'll get the general gist down, probably a little bit more eloquently than I did during the actual session.

At this point, he pulled out my file, which was a decently thick folder no doubt filled with observations and possibly transcripts from other sessions. "Matthew, I've been looking over everything you've told me, and I think we can both agree this stemmed from your unhealthy obsession with the 'slenderman''. As long as you haven't revitalized that obsession, I'm sure you'll be just fine."

"But what if it's not the only cause? Here let me show you something." I got up and walked to his desk and pulled up the internet. Before he could ask what I was doing, I had loaded up my blog and was scrolling through the entries. I found the February 7th entries and pointed at them, telling him to read. He did and asked me what he was looking for.

"Read again." He did. He didn't see it.

I pointed on the screen.

Finally he saw it.

"Who's Emily?"

And this is the part where I explain the appearance of that mysterious name to all none of you.

Emily is my little sister.

Was.

When I was three, my family lived in a house with a pool. We loved that pool, especially on warm summer days. One day, I was playing in it while my mother relaxed and my grandmother was over doing... something, I dunno what.

Emily decided she wanted to play with me in the pool.

She didn't have any thing to keep her afloat.

By the time the ambulance arrived, it was pretty much too late; extremely weak pulse, lungs filled with water, blue skin.

My family recovered, but it took years to fully heal. In fact, it was only until late last year that I think my Dad fully recovered, when he expressed that he wanted to write a book about it, about how he coped and healed and all that jazz.

I explained all this and Dr. Traner went into a hyper thoughtful mode that he occasionally gets into. I sat back down, feeling tears push against my eyes, but I fought them back just so I could be coherent when Dr. Traner processed the info.

Eventually, he said "It is possible that you may still be traumatized by what you saw, and the fear caused by that event came back up and attached itself to this 'slenderman'."

I wanted to tell him that I was starting to feel the paranoia again, but he was back in the concentration mode.

After a while, he looked back at me and asked "When did this occur to you?"

"While I was playing a game, I dunno. I just think of random stuff every once and a while." It was truth, but not the whole truth. I failed to mention that I only thought of it because I was getting obsessed with tales of tall, dark 'men' again.

He then suggested something rather interesting.

He told me to start recording my random thoughts, which I could then send to him.

It took me a second to process, but I agreed. If I can get these random thoughts to him in an easier manner, then shouldn't I? He's clearly one of the only people I can trust with my thoughts. I certainly can't trust myself, and he's a trained professional.

The session ended about half an hour later, after working out some of the logistics of actually making this work.

Which brings us to modern day once more, seeing as nothing interesting happened between then and now.

So you may be asking what this means.

What this means is I am going to start a vlog for the benefit of my therapist. I know he reads this blog still, and I'm sorry Dr. Traner for not telling you about getting back into the slenderverse, but can't I still indulge in a few good stories?

Yeah, he won't buy that...

Anyway, yes he reads the blog, but the blog isn't my pure thoughts all the time. If I just started recording random thoughts when I have them, and possibly a few interesting things to show Dr. Traner things that may help him help me, then I could get over this paranoia and get over this once and for all.

When I get a camera, I will post the first few videos here, using my old NOOC channel as the archive. Gotta get some use out of it, and I'm not too keen on letting the general public see my most private thoughts.

Dr. Traner, I'm sorry I didn't mention that I would also tell the blogosphere about the videos. It really only occurred to me to do so when I got home, and it might help.

Well, I really have nothing left to say...

So we're done here.

-Matthew

(PS don't expect the videos for a while. I have to wait on another paycheck, and I don't work many hours. Although my birthday is coming up... which is something else I wanna mention: MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP. AWWWW YEEEE. October 8th. Tell your friends. It's gonna be awesome.)

Friday, September 28, 2012

Furious right now

Day has been full of fuck. I'll talk about it when i get back tomorrow.

Gotta go celebrate the world's best card game first.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Of mice and termites

So yesterday I woke up after having a rather odd dream. Involved my dad asking very loudly for mustard or something. Maybe it was horse radish.

Whatever.

The important bits of yesterday happened after I woke up.

So yeah, after weird dream from my few hours of sleep, I got around to calling my therapist and scheduling an appointment for Sunday. I told him I needed to talk to him about things that happened before my mental breakdown. My current working theory is that my insanity sprouted from some trauma in my past. I'll get to that if my theory proves fruitful.

Anyway, today was pretty boring. I was home alone for a while, heard some strange noises, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Yeah my paranoia might have gotten the best of me and I looked around the house a couple times with a knife on hand. So what? That's normal when you hear shit shift in another room. How was I supposed to know my dogs had just knocked over a stack of books?

The only really eventful thing that happened today was what down at church. I play for my church's band and thursdays are our meet ups for practice and whatnot. My dad and I arrived an hour early like we normally do and while he did some stuff to get the sound system running for practice, I went out into the woods. Yes, the woods that I went into and met that guy in the lawn chair. The place I cluster f-bombed a Revenant. I don't know why I went back, guess I was just bored and I didn't really believe my own memories about what went down there.

So as I made it to the ridge upon which the meeting supposedly happened, I felt the urge to stay away from that place. I guess I didn't want to find out what would happen to me/what I would do should I see that lawn chair again, or any signs that my insanity may have been founded in something more concrete.

Instead, I turned away from the ridge and walked to a tunnel that runs beneath a road. The road barely gets used, and the tunnel itself is tough to get to, being surrounded by tall grass, weeds, and murky water. I stood at the edge of the tall grass and looked into the tunnel, wondering if I should try getting closer.

That's when I heard the cracking of wood behind me. I spun around, now thoroughly convinced something was coming to get me. It turned out to be a sound of more mundane origins than the eldritch explanation I was anticipating. A huge branch fell just feet away from me, sending a few bugs into the air. After I calmed down, I could see that termites were the cause, the little things swarming over the broken limb.

Come to think of it, I saw a lot of wood out there ravaged by termites. Like... a lot. Just piles and piles, everywhere. It seemed like the termites had cleared out a lot of the trees that used to be there, which is an amazing feat really. But kinda unnerving that there are that many termites out there. Makes my skin crawl.

SPEAKING OF SKIN CRAWLING.

So I went back into the church and into the sanctuary to get set up and calm down from almost being crushed by a branch. As I entered, I heard clicking above my head.I looked for the source, without luck. And then I just listened for a minute. There was constant clicking, a few scratches here and there, all seemingly coming from the ventilation system. It was then I realized what was going on.

Rats.

There had to have been an entire family of the vermin up there. I told my dad and we shuddered about it together. I got my mind off it by playing some drums. Can't hear the little fuckers over the sound of crashes and toms.

Anyway, that's pretty much it.

In summary: Got paranoid and almost crushed. Then I heard rats.

Interesting day, wasn't it?

-Matthew

(PS I might not post for the next few days. Gonna hang with a friend tomorrow, hang with another on saturday, and then I have church and my appointment on Sunday. If I do post, it will be around this time again. But don't expect it, all you non-existent readers.)

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Feeling like shit

Is it a good thing or a bad thing when you suddenly want to hurl your guts out after looking at a picture someone snapped of Slenderfuck?

On the one hand, it means you are having a perfectly reasonable reaction to seeing something that just shouldn't exist. On the other hand, you're looking at something that shouldn't exist, and it's doing bad things to your body.

I'm feeling lightheaded, like I usually do after I lose any amount of blood (or when I think about blood for a little bit too long and a little bit too much detail.) Trying to shake the feeling off, but that picture stirred up some nasty shit that I have been trying my damndest to surpress.

I don't recommend clicking this link to view the picture, but if you have greater constitution than me, maybe you can handle it:

http://eccentricallybored.blogspot.com/2011/03/woke-up-in-middle-of-night.html

Anyway, on that note, I want to say I am trying to catch up on what has been going on and... well...

Fucking hell guys.

How many of us died while I lived my relatively peaceful happy life?

I don't even want to count. I don't think I could handle it. I'm not doing myself any favors looking over half the stuff going on. I might need to go visit my therapist again...

I just wish there was something I could do... Could've done.

I wish I didn't abandon you guys.

I wish I could've stuck around and lend a hand or offer advice.

I wish I had tried harder to make certain things work, like NAPPA and my general relationships with you people.

We all know I was pretty disagreeable at best, what with my anger issues and generally bleak outlook on our plight. But fucking hell, I would undo every moment of peace I've had since my leave for the chance to have helped you all.

I would have traded my life for all of yours.

Guess I'm the Simon of this island of castaways.

Anyway, I'm going to go sleep now. Hopefully I'll be able to.

Will be looking into various things soon.

I'll keep whoever is out there updated on my stuff.

-Matthew

------------------------------------------

So yeah, I can't sleep at all. Tried doing this trick where I read a pretty 'meh' tier book until it bores me to sleep, but it didn't work. When I put it down, I couldn't bring myself to turn off the lights. I just came back and kept reading that blog from earlier.

Shame that the guy got Proxy'd. I haven't finished reading his stuff, but its... morbidly interesting watchin the transformation, as well as the goings ons of what proxies actually do.

And this brings me to the part of "Will be looking into various things soon."

The various things I mention are these other... entities.

Other eldritch horrors, like Slenderman, but with different rules.

I honestly don't know what to think of it.

I mean, I barely can cope with the fact that Slenderman might be real. (therapy did a doozy for me in terms of my perception of tall dark and malicious. I don't want to discount anyone's experience, but my own says that there is a distinct possibility that I was only hallucinating things to do with it.)

Now I have to worry about a veritable PANTHEON of these fucks?

I don't know... I mean, if they're real, well we're kinda fucked, right? If they aren't and I'm just getting worked up over nothing, at the obvious risk of relapsing into that mental state, then huzzah! But I'm still struggling with figuring out what I can believe or not.

I want to be able to ignore all of this, just look at it from the standpoint of "oh look at this creepypasta. let's read it then move on, maybe have a spot of tea, pip pip cheerio", but I can't. I know it wasn't real, but my hallucinations... they felt real.

...

It only now occurs to me to ask what the hell made me start hallucinating in the first place. What drove me mad?

...I'm going to make an appointment with my therapist asap.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Guess who's decided that it was time to look back into the maw of Hell?

That's right, your one and only No One Of Consequence.

NOOC's back, bitches.

Course, I have elected to go with the name I use for everything else, Kfrunt Rfrunt.

Now, what would this rage filled guy who left the world of darkness and tentacles behind be doing back all of the sudden?

To put it simply: no fucking clue.

To put it not so simply: I've been just a little bit more paranoid lately, due to a rather... odd sequence of events.

Ten days ago, I was waiting for my parents to pick me up from work. It had been a long day filled with numerous problems caused by various people (both customers and a few co-workers) and I was on edge because of it. Neither of my parents responded to my texts so they were late in coming to get me. It was around 10 PM when I suddenly started thinking about this blog again. I don't know why I did it, but I did. I thought about what had gone on here, my... issues that I had to work out with a few visits to a therapist, and the fact that I could've sworn I saw someone next to the tree about 40 yards in front of me. I told myself it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but I was still shaken a little. I started remembering things that had gone down before and what life was like while I pretty much lived on this blog. Around 10:15 my mom shows up and takes me home. I stay up for a few more hours and go to bed round 2ish. I can't sleep because now my head is filled with thoughts of 'ohgod its back' and all that other shit. I managed to discount those long enough to get to sleep though, but it took a couple hours.

I woke up the next day and checked my email to find a message from a guy named 'apocriptein'. He sent me and fuck ton of others a link to his youtube channel which I could instantly recognize as Slenderfuck oriented channel. I promptly told him to leave me the fuck alone, and he has so far.

Still the combination of the two events left me in a heightened state of awareness. I am now listening harder, looking around more thoroughly, and generally... being paranoid. Yeah, I know it's stupid to do regress, and I've been doing a bang up job telling myself it's just in my head, but... I mean it's hard to shake off the feeling of correlation between these two things. I usually don't sleep well, but now I sit in bed, staring into the darkness, wondering if I'm looking at the bookshelf or the silhouette of a tall man.

I don't want to be a part of this anymore. I don't want to regress into my insanity, making my life a living hell, and potentially fucking up my future.

...I don't want to be back here, but I am...

This brings me back to the original question.

Why am I back?

And again, I don't know.

Maybe I'll be able to handle this paranoia thing better if I just type it out for the world to see.

Maybe I'll get a better look into how my mind is thinking about things, and be better equipped to reveal the lies my mind is making.

Maybe I'm just going back into my old ways, regardless, and I'm destined to start walking out in forests, hallucinating and hunting down the boogieman.

Maybe... maybe its real this time.

I don't know.

And I'm not sure if I want to find out.

For better or for worse, I'm back.

Brace yourself for rage, paranoia, and a lot of second guessing myself.

It's gonna be a blast.

-Matthew

(no more titles, I think. I kinda used the crap outta that gimmick back in the 'glory days')