Miranda is missing.
She was here yesterday.
I think.
Camera is missing.
Conclusion? Miranda probably has the camera.
There's not a note. No signs of a struggle, but I don't suppose that means anything. Her stuff isn't here.
And then there's the pictures.
Miranda left it up on the laptop.
I recognize... the first one is from out at the edge of the woodlot.
The second? No.
Conclusion? Miranda is running.
Makes sense.
Fuck. Right. Okay. Caffeine. One stop. Then more running.
Running is better than sitting still at least.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
its reel real I mean it's really all actually FUCK fuck fuck fuck fuck
it took an hour to calm the fuck down relatively fucking speaking
there doesn't seem to be much point in beating around the bush so let'ss out with it
the fckuing fucking Slender man
feel like someones replaced my bones with bits of lead pipe
rusty spiky frozen fucking jgagged bits of lead pipe
sososoooso much fucking running running like you would not believe
i was out taking photos
no you wont see these ones
iive deleted them
fFuck okay where was i it shard to type im still fucking shaking its been five hooours and im still fukcing shaking WHHat tthe fuck the woods righ was out at that woodlot snaaappign some pphotos and i was looking at one of the treees look im trying not to wax peotic here but... worrds dontt exactly work rhigt i cant do 'just the fucking facts'''
needd ot warm up
How did that take an hour? How the fuck.
An hour to calm my fucking hands down.
Going to regret punching the wall. pathetic
Keep fuckng writing dumbass. The tree?
It's an odd looking tree. I've tried getting photos of it before, but they don't turn out well. Its fucking annoying because I can see what the photo should look like but it never comes out quite right and i'm getting stide tracked. No sense in not trying again though, right? So the camera comes up, viewfinder to the eye. And, in the space between where I see the tree directly, and where I start looking through the lens somewhere in that moment
It doesn't make any fucking sense.
I can't explain it. I don't suppose there's a point in even fucuking trying to explain it. In that blink of an eye, where before there's nothing but empty space between me and the tree? He's right fucking there. Out of fucking nowhere. It's not like someone just stepped out from behind a fucking tree, there's not enough fucking cover. Not with the fucking leaves off and... fuck.
Doing better with this calming down thing now. Only took thirty minutes. Where the fuck were we?
Right. There he is. And it's just... cold. There's nothing to read off of. No body language, no facial expression. Like a fucking dressmaker's mannequin. Like trying to get an expression out of a fucking tree. The temperature drops, just for an instant. The kind of cold that takes the breath right out of you when you try to get your breath.
I wonder, if this is how an animal feels when it finds itself in front of something more dangerous? Every bit of me starts screaming to get the fuck out of there but my legs dont move. icant fucking move. I blink. He it moves. Moves isn't the right word. Moving implies... something. Action. This was like... moving, without action. He's simply there. Closer now. Shaking, it feels like my legs are about to give out. And the cold... like having ice in your veins. Flowing, ice.
Click. The shutter on the camera. Did I psuh it?
Doesnt matter. The cold is gone. Broken. I can run. Right into the street. Don't know how I didn't get hit by a car. I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Like... a big spring that someone had wound all the way up. Not until I was warm. Still not warm. Suppose I should keep running.
it took an hour to calm the fuck down relatively fucking speaking
there doesn't seem to be much point in beating around the bush so let'ss out with it
the fckuing fucking Slender man
feel like someones replaced my bones with bits of lead pipe
rusty spiky frozen fucking jgagged bits of lead pipe
sososoooso much fucking running running like you would not believe
i was out taking photos
no you wont see these ones
iive deleted them
fFuck okay where was i it shard to type im still fucking shaking its been five hooours and im still fukcing shaking WHHat tthe fuck the woods righ was out at that woodlot snaaappign some pphotos and i was looking at one of the treees look im trying not to wax peotic here but... worrds dontt exactly work rhigt i cant do 'just the fucking facts'''
needd ot warm up
How did that take an hour? How the fuck.
An hour to calm my fucking hands down.
Going to regret punching the wall. pathetic
Keep fuckng writing dumbass. The tree?
It's an odd looking tree. I've tried getting photos of it before, but they don't turn out well. Its fucking annoying because I can see what the photo should look like but it never comes out quite right and i'm getting stide tracked. No sense in not trying again though, right? So the camera comes up, viewfinder to the eye. And, in the space between where I see the tree directly, and where I start looking through the lens somewhere in that moment
It doesn't make any fucking sense.
I can't explain it. I don't suppose there's a point in even fucuking trying to explain it. In that blink of an eye, where before there's nothing but empty space between me and the tree? He's right fucking there. Out of fucking nowhere. It's not like someone just stepped out from behind a fucking tree, there's not enough fucking cover. Not with the fucking leaves off and... fuck.
Doing better with this calming down thing now. Only took thirty minutes. Where the fuck were we?
Right. There he is. And it's just... cold. There's nothing to read off of. No body language, no facial expression. Like a fucking dressmaker's mannequin. Like trying to get an expression out of a fucking tree. The temperature drops, just for an instant. The kind of cold that takes the breath right out of you when you try to get your breath.
I wonder, if this is how an animal feels when it finds itself in front of something more dangerous? Every bit of me starts screaming to get the fuck out of there but my legs dont move. icant fucking move. I blink. He it moves. Moves isn't the right word. Moving implies... something. Action. This was like... moving, without action. He's simply there. Closer now. Shaking, it feels like my legs are about to give out. And the cold... like having ice in your veins. Flowing, ice.
Click. The shutter on the camera. Did I psuh it?
Doesnt matter. The cold is gone. Broken. I can run. Right into the street. Don't know how I didn't get hit by a car. I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Like... a big spring that someone had wound all the way up. Not until I was warm. Still not warm. Suppose I should keep running.
Count the coincidences
This can't be happening. It just can't.
Count the fingers on one hand, see if you're dreaming.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Thumb.
Four fingers and a thumb. The thumb's not a finger because it's opposable.
One of these things is not like the others.
One of these things just doesn't belong.
Did I see that? Is the lack of sleep finally getting to me?
Count the fingers on one hand, see if you're dreaming.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Thumb.
Four fingers and a thumb. The thumb's not a finger because it's opposable.
One of these things is not like the others.
One of these things just doesn't belong.
Did I see that? Is the lack of sleep finally getting to me?
Friday, January 27, 2012
Weekend Plans
We've had freezing rain again, so I'm off to the woods for more photos.
Also on my list of things to do?
Also on my list of things to do?
- Scream Liveblog
- Sleep
- Delicious food
- Complain to the post office?
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Mail Call
I had a friend once, back in high school. He was... what you might call "enthusiastic" about ideas. Had all sorts of them. Green energy, shadow governments, time travel. They were always interesting, so I'd listen to them.
Anyways, one of his explanations (may it live forever in infamy) about conspiracy theories had to do with the scale of events, and the effect that people observing them had. 9/11, the assassination of J.F.K, the Moon Landing conspiracy nuts.
The idea he had was that having so much attention, the attention of hundreds of thousands of thinking minds focused on a single moment affected reality somehow. Warped it and stretched it for the briefest of moments, and opened up a window where anything could happen. Quite literally a "perfect" moment in time. He called it "causally free". After it opens, it snaps shut again, and things sort of, reorient themselves around that. Like a linchpin, the rest of the event constructs itself around that perfect moment. And that created ripples so things like birthdays and middle names and places and even license plates started to line up in weird, funny, creepy co-incidental sorts of ways, both before and after the actual moment. Little echoes
So what did it mean when this started happening?
"You run for cover." His words exactly. Run for cover. "Because it's not really an echo. Not exactly."
"It's an air raid siren. And something is about to go off."
Well, I'm starting to get the feeling he might have been right.
You see, I found a package waiting for me on my doorstep when I came home this evening. Which, I know isn't exactly strange, things like that happen all the time. No, the strange part is who sent it. Which is to say, "me." My name was listed as the sender.
The return address was that house that burnt down.
Is someone playing a trick on me? Because I am not in the fucking mood.
Anyways, one of his explanations (may it live forever in infamy) about conspiracy theories had to do with the scale of events, and the effect that people observing them had. 9/11, the assassination of J.F.K, the Moon Landing conspiracy nuts.
The idea he had was that having so much attention, the attention of hundreds of thousands of thinking minds focused on a single moment affected reality somehow. Warped it and stretched it for the briefest of moments, and opened up a window where anything could happen. Quite literally a "perfect" moment in time. He called it "causally free". After it opens, it snaps shut again, and things sort of, reorient themselves around that. Like a linchpin, the rest of the event constructs itself around that perfect moment. And that created ripples so things like birthdays and middle names and places and even license plates started to line up in weird, funny, creepy co-incidental sorts of ways, both before and after the actual moment. Little echoes
So what did it mean when this started happening?
"You run for cover." His words exactly. Run for cover. "Because it's not really an echo. Not exactly."
"It's an air raid siren. And something is about to go off."
Well, I'm starting to get the feeling he might have been right.
You see, I found a package waiting for me on my doorstep when I came home this evening. Which, I know isn't exactly strange, things like that happen all the time. No, the strange part is who sent it. Which is to say, "me." My name was listed as the sender.
The return address was that house that burnt down.
Is someone playing a trick on me? Because I am not in the fucking mood.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
On the air
So a quick update then.
Sleep continues to be elusive. I can't count the nights I've fallen asleep after the timer on the TV kicks in at two in the morning and then lay awake at least another hour. You know, television stations used to go off the air at night. But now they run constantly. 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Radio stations are the same ways. It's always on. There's always something on. But there's never anything to watch of course.
Spring break is a few weeks away now. God knows I could do with it. Lack of sleep certainly hasn't done any favours for my usually sunny and outgoing disposition.
That was sarcasm.
Fuck it. I'm going to go make some tea, see if I can't knock myself out a little earlier than three in the ante meridian.
Sleep continues to be elusive. I can't count the nights I've fallen asleep after the timer on the TV kicks in at two in the morning and then lay awake at least another hour. You know, television stations used to go off the air at night. But now they run constantly. 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Radio stations are the same ways. It's always on. There's always something on. But there's never anything to watch of course.
Spring break is a few weeks away now. God knows I could do with it. Lack of sleep certainly hasn't done any favours for my usually sunny and outgoing disposition.
That was sarcasm.
Fuck it. I'm going to go make some tea, see if I can't knock myself out a little earlier than three in the ante meridian.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Dear Asshat
Whoever sent this?
Mr. Smith,I'm telling you once:
Have you taken a good look at those photographs? The ones that you continue to post. You must, since you seem to be using some form of discretion when selecting them. God knows what that is.
But I digress. You appear to have an uninvited guest.
Tell me if the description sounds familiar: tall fellow, thin, generally lanky build. Snappy dresser, lacking a face entirely?
It is time to face facts Mr. Smith. Time to start running.
Do not delay.
FUCK. OFF.
Of course I examine those pictures. That's why they're good. There's nothing funky in them. I mean, fuck, I avoid putting people in them all together when I can, so I don't know what you think you're seeing.
Is it the Loch Ness monster perhaps? Black Shuck? The Cu Sith? Granted, we're a little far afield for any of those so let's look a little more locally... a wendigo maybe, out to eat me? Or maybe it's dear Philip! Bigfoot? Nope, we're not on the west coast. It's really a shame, I'm not up to date on my folklore for this side of the pond. There's so terribly little of it.
Of course I'm being sarcastic you dumbfuck. Don't expect another response, I'm deleting those on sight now.
Sincerely,
Robin Smith
Friday, January 20, 2012
Mid-week Weekend
I wasn't terribly active yesterday, or the previous evening. Well, I didn't exactly announce my plans, since they just sort of 'happened'. I was out in the country side, tromping around in my big stompy boots taking pictures out in the woods and generally having a good time.
Also, there were cats.
It was absolutely fucking brilliant, the freezing rain we had the other evening made the whole place look absolutely gorgeous. The only thing I could have hoped for was some better light so the shine would be there, maybe actually get some use out of the new polarizing filter.
But that's done and over with. Results will be showing up on my tumblr in bits and pieces. The first batch is up already, but I really need to get back onto the Scream liveblog. Whole movie to go and there's only been one murder so far!
But let's deal with the troll while we're here.
WHY HELLO MR. BATTLE! AREN'T WE THE BORED LITTLE FUCK.
Actually. Nah. That's all you're getting.
Go hug a tree Ricky-boy, I'm busy.
Also, there were cats.
It was absolutely fucking brilliant, the freezing rain we had the other evening made the whole place look absolutely gorgeous. The only thing I could have hoped for was some better light so the shine would be there, maybe actually get some use out of the new polarizing filter.
But that's done and over with. Results will be showing up on my tumblr in bits and pieces. The first batch is up already, but I really need to get back onto the Scream liveblog. Whole movie to go and there's only been one murder so far!
But let's deal with the troll while we're here.
WHY HELLO MR. BATTLE! AREN'T WE THE BORED LITTLE FUCK.
Actually. Nah. That's all you're getting.
Go hug a tree Ricky-boy, I'm busy.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Creepers
Returning to last night's post.
The photos turned out alright, as seen on the tumblr. The obvious problem is that -10 in the dark and -10 in the sunlight are two very different things. As is -10 while walking and -10 while trying to hold very fucking still so that you can work with a slow exposure and still get a clear photo.
Saw some guy while I was on my way back last night. Looked like he was waving. Or she, I suppose. About a block up the road.
Brief explanation, my subdivision happens to be built on a god awful fucking grid that only includes streetlights along the roads that run out to the larger road, which from my perspective is those going "vertically" on a map. Which means there's four street lights on the entire road, one per intersection. No sidewalks either. Bit of a pain, but you get used to it, and it's a low traffic neighbourhood.
So I'm standing in one little pool of light cast by a street lamp, whoever the fuck this is, they're standing in the pool cast by the streetlight at the other end of the street. About a minute away. I don't have my telephoto, sadly. It's a wonderful lens but it's absolute fucking rubbish when it comes to shooting in low-light conditions. So no zoom to speak of on the camera, my fingers are numb. And frankly, I'm already a little creeped out by the dumbass who was following me back from the parking lot I'd been shooting in.
Not a fan of being watched, you understand. You know that feeling you can get, when you're in the house alone. And you fucking well know there's no one else in the house, but you still feel like there's someone behind a door, or around a corner keeping their fucking creepy-ass eye on you? Or following you around?
Me either.
In any case...
I start to walk over there. Intending to see what this idiot is about and maybe threaten him a little. I'm in the mood for it. And I've already got big stompy boots on. Gotta love those steel toes. Anyways, I get there, and I realize. He's vanished. Into fucking thin air. And it felt like it took a little less time than I expected to get there. Maybe I was doing an angry fast-walk? Weird night. Too cold to stick around to see if he's wandered off somewhere. I head back. Hot chocolate is good for the soul. Or at least for cold bones.
He didn't show up in the shot I'd snapped looking up the street a few seconds before. Maybe it was a quality issue?
The photos turned out alright, as seen on the tumblr. The obvious problem is that -10 in the dark and -10 in the sunlight are two very different things. As is -10 while walking and -10 while trying to hold very fucking still so that you can work with a slow exposure and still get a clear photo.
Saw some guy while I was on my way back last night. Looked like he was waving. Or she, I suppose. About a block up the road.
Brief explanation, my subdivision happens to be built on a god awful fucking grid that only includes streetlights along the roads that run out to the larger road, which from my perspective is those going "vertically" on a map. Which means there's four street lights on the entire road, one per intersection. No sidewalks either. Bit of a pain, but you get used to it, and it's a low traffic neighbourhood.
So I'm standing in one little pool of light cast by a street lamp, whoever the fuck this is, they're standing in the pool cast by the streetlight at the other end of the street. About a minute away. I don't have my telephoto, sadly. It's a wonderful lens but it's absolute fucking rubbish when it comes to shooting in low-light conditions. So no zoom to speak of on the camera, my fingers are numb. And frankly, I'm already a little creeped out by the dumbass who was following me back from the parking lot I'd been shooting in.
Not a fan of being watched, you understand. You know that feeling you can get, when you're in the house alone. And you fucking well know there's no one else in the house, but you still feel like there's someone behind a door, or around a corner keeping their fucking creepy-ass eye on you? Or following you around?
Me either.
In any case...
I start to walk over there. Intending to see what this idiot is about and maybe threaten him a little. I'm in the mood for it. And I've already got big stompy boots on. Gotta love those steel toes. Anyways, I get there, and I realize. He's vanished. Into fucking thin air. And it felt like it took a little less time than I expected to get there. Maybe I was doing an angry fast-walk? Weird night. Too cold to stick around to see if he's wandered off somewhere. I head back. Hot chocolate is good for the soul. Or at least for cold bones.
He didn't show up in the shot I'd snapped looking up the street a few seconds before. Maybe it was a quality issue?
Monday, January 16, 2012
Photos
Going out on another photo shoot while the dark is still a little ways off. It's a least -20 out there at the moment, thankfully relatively free of wind, which is what always kills me.
Obviously I am mad.
Oh well! I've got a flashlight and big stompy boots!
I'll get plenty of interesting stuff wednesday and thursday though.
Obviously I am mad.
Oh well! I've got a flashlight and big stompy boots!
I'll get plenty of interesting stuff wednesday and thursday though.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
So, winter is actually here, negative temperatures, about a foot of snow and BLINDING AS FUCK ALL if you decide to look outside while the sun is up. Fucking albedo.
I'm not going to starve to death, which is nice. On the other hand, I had to deal with the Grocery Store which was simply lovely. See the link for my earlier notes about that particular establishment.
Also, I have a new follower. Well that's interesting.
Let's see... I'm going to guess this is about trolling, judging by the timing, so if you intend to upbraid me for it SOD OFF.
Is that clear? Granted, if anyone else has bothered to find their way over here, feel free to try to troll me back.
Or, I suppose it would be more appropriate to say:
Come at me bro.
I'm not going to starve to death, which is nice. On the other hand, I had to deal with the Grocery Store which was simply lovely. See the link for my earlier notes about that particular establishment.
Also, I have a new follower. Well that's interesting.
Let's see... I'm going to guess this is about trolling, judging by the timing, so if you intend to upbraid me for it SOD OFF.
Is that clear? Granted, if anyone else has bothered to find their way over here, feel free to try to troll me back.
Or, I suppose it would be more appropriate to say:
Come at me bro.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Hanlon's Razor
"Never mistake for malice, that which can be adequately explained by stupidity."
News then. Miranda finally decided to answer her phone. Montreal. She was in montreal. That took all of two seconds to mention. Seriously. You break into my account, post a cryptic comment and... are the blogs getting to you or something Mir?
It's snowing again. Plenty of it. If you read the tumblr (don't know why not) you'll have seen the photo this morning.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Miranda
Where in the everloving fuck are you? You broke into my account? To post a fucking comment? You can fucking well do that without guessing at my password. SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK? Answer your goddamned phone. I'm not even kidding at this point. You weren't at class yesterday? Yes I checked.
Just answer the phone.
Just answer the phone.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
AWOL
My own bed again. And if you'd believe it, I still haven't bothered unpacking. Haven't really had the time.
Went by Miranda's house yesterday.
Actually, let me preface this by saying that she hasn't answered her phone in two days. She always answers the phone. Even if it's just to say "busy now, talk later."
So I walk to her house. We've got plenty of snow here, nice and crunchy where it hasn't turned to slush. Knock on the front door. No answer. Maybe she's gone somewhere? Don't recall her having any plans though. And there's a shit-ton of mail piled up. I took a look, she's got one of those flap/slot things on her door for mail.
At least a week's worth.
Of course, the neighbours seemed a little wary of some short white dude in a jacket looking through someone's front door. Threatened to call the cops on me, so I scrammed.
Went back that night, there's no lights on in the whole house. Where the everloving fuck are you hiding Miranda?
Hey, Mir? If you read this, pick up your fucking phone. So I can punch you through it. I will find a way to do it. Disappearing is not fucking cool.
Went by Miranda's house yesterday.
Actually, let me preface this by saying that she hasn't answered her phone in two days. She always answers the phone. Even if it's just to say "busy now, talk later."
So I walk to her house. We've got plenty of snow here, nice and crunchy where it hasn't turned to slush. Knock on the front door. No answer. Maybe she's gone somewhere? Don't recall her having any plans though. And there's a shit-ton of mail piled up. I took a look, she's got one of those flap/slot things on her door for mail.
At least a week's worth.
Of course, the neighbours seemed a little wary of some short white dude in a jacket looking through someone's front door. Threatened to call the cops on me, so I scrammed.
Went back that night, there's no lights on in the whole house. Where the everloving fuck are you hiding Miranda?
Hey, Mir? If you read this, pick up your fucking phone. So I can punch you through it. I will find a way to do it. Disappearing is not fucking cool.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Back in Ottawa
What it says on the fucking tin. A little miserable. Forgot my boots here, and don't you know it snowed here while I was away. Lugging a suitcase through the slush is an exercise in fucking futility.
Been ditched by Miranda for the evening. Lovely girl most of the time, but she seems to be in a bit of a state. Not sure why. We hardly talked over the break.
My sleeping is still wildly fucked up. I've got two nights to get it back under control before classes start up again.
I dropped by the coffee shop on my way to the train. Bad idea, since, the Coffee Shop, and because it fucked my schedule (along with the subway) and I nearly missed the damn train. Train ride was nice though. But anyways, one of the guys in there said the two longcoat dorks were back in, end of November. Figures, right?
Glad I'm not fucking working there any more.
Been ditched by Miranda for the evening. Lovely girl most of the time, but she seems to be in a bit of a state. Not sure why. We hardly talked over the break.
My sleeping is still wildly fucked up. I've got two nights to get it back under control before classes start up again.
I dropped by the coffee shop on my way to the train. Bad idea, since, the Coffee Shop, and because it fucked my schedule (along with the subway) and I nearly missed the damn train. Train ride was nice though. But anyways, one of the guys in there said the two longcoat dorks were back in, end of November. Figures, right?
Glad I'm not fucking working there any more.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Happy Fucking New Year
Yes, you read that right.
Hello 2012, we're off to a great start aren't we?
Fuck you too, new year. I did not ask for sleep problems.
Maybe these'll clear the hell out when I get back to Ottawa.
So what have I been up to? Photos, among other things. Went out and got some good ones, one is even a decent photo of myself, if anyone's interested. However, while I was out, of course it hadn't snowed here when I left Ottawa so I only brought my running shoes. So outside, in the cold, running shoes and a camera, I happen across some ice. One foot slips, the other goes too, and I manage to bang my shins pretty nicely on the ice. Little bit of bruising, but I'll be a little more careful.
But yes. sleeping problems. Sleeping too much, not sleeping enough. My whole sleep cycle is a little fucked right now. Expect posts (like this one) at odd hours of the morning. Of course, all the problems that go along with not getting proper sleep have tagged along for the ride. Irritability, problems remembering things, I've spaced out a few times, general lethargic behaviour, poor appetite. The whole nine yards.
I leave on the sixth. And I will be happy to do so.
Hello 2012, we're off to a great start aren't we?
Fuck you too, new year. I did not ask for sleep problems.
Maybe these'll clear the hell out when I get back to Ottawa.
So what have I been up to? Photos, among other things. Went out and got some good ones, one is even a decent photo of myself, if anyone's interested. However, while I was out, of course it hadn't snowed here when I left Ottawa so I only brought my running shoes. So outside, in the cold, running shoes and a camera, I happen across some ice. One foot slips, the other goes too, and I manage to bang my shins pretty nicely on the ice. Little bit of bruising, but I'll be a little more careful.
But yes. sleeping problems. Sleeping too much, not sleeping enough. My whole sleep cycle is a little fucked right now. Expect posts (like this one) at odd hours of the morning. Of course, all the problems that go along with not getting proper sleep have tagged along for the ride. Irritability, problems remembering things, I've spaced out a few times, general lethargic behaviour, poor appetite. The whole nine yards.
I leave on the sixth. And I will be happy to do so.
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