I don't think my arm should feel numb like this.
Not important. Getting it on with this.
I still don't remember much from around the car crash. I'm assuming that a low speed collision with a treeon top of a recovering concussion isn't a recipe for a healthy mind. Everything before I woke up in that room
Needless to say it's not something I'm in a hurry to review again.
They drugged me, I think. They did something to my head.
I feel like I can hear a pin drop though. My head is absolutely fucking killing me. I wonder if this is what a hangover feels like.
Oh. Hello there.
Time for more running it seems.
Showing posts with label Bomb fell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bomb fell. Show all posts
Monday, April 2, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Mad World
Not going back there. Not that I had much choice after my run in with who I assume was good Dr. Serra, who I assume is now going out of her way to violate what passes for a Hippocratic oath these days.
So I dragged myself to the ER. Mentioned that the other day, I think.
That went superbly. Told them I'd been mugged (90% true) but didn't see who did it. (Entirely false)
They seem to have done a pretty good job patching me up. Brace for the ankle, even went so far as to stitch the cut on my arm.
And then things started happening. So I got the hell out of there as soon as I could.
People should not be able to grin like that. They shouldn't. It's just not fucking natural. Hell of a lot of blood.
I haven't been comfortable staying in one place for too long. At least it's justified now.
Been saying it a while, but there's a great fucking granddad of a storm waiting out there. Best get out of it's way while I can.
If I can.
So I dragged myself to the ER. Mentioned that the other day, I think.
That went superbly. Told them I'd been mugged (90% true) but didn't see who did it. (Entirely false)
They seem to have done a pretty good job patching me up. Brace for the ankle, even went so far as to stitch the cut on my arm.
And then things started happening. So I got the hell out of there as soon as I could.
People should not be able to grin like that. They shouldn't. It's just not fucking natural. Hell of a lot of blood.
I haven't been comfortable staying in one place for too long. At least it's justified now.
Been saying it a while, but there's a great fucking granddad of a storm waiting out there. Best get out of it's way while I can.
If I can.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Slept too long
Six fucking hours.
Fuck. That's too long. Anything could have happened.
Must've really done a number on me.
Where the fuck is a hospital when you need it?
Fuck. That's too long. Anything could have happened.
Must've really done a number on me.
Where the fuck is a hospital when you need it?
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
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.
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.
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.
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