Sunday 15 September 2013
Came Face To Face With My Creator
I've come to grips with who I am, and made a deal with my creator. She's going to let me keep talking, as long as I stay put in her head. I moved to myroomismelting.wordpress.com. Read my story or don't.
Friday 18 January 2013
The World Is Empty
I'm back.
Which means that I was out. I went to sleep and woke up and I had windows and a door and normal walls again. It took me a good twenty minutes to work up the balls to open my bedroom door. I was afraid of what I was going to find. I've been stuck in here so long that I wasn't even sure that I wanted to find out what had been happening out there around me. Or what 'out there' even was anymore.
Turns out, that everything out there is still exactly the same as the last time I saw it. Except there are no people. Anywhere.
Seriously jarring for me. In all of these theories about other worlds, that was my biggest fear was that I would step outside into an alien landscape, or one that was twisted from my own. But it's the same old Kentigerna, just without any people at all.
The weird thing is that everything is still very well kept. I wandered into the grocery store and everything is still perfectly fresh. And in the evenings, things close, and lights go off, and the world goes to sleep. But I haven't seen a single soul. My roommates' cars were in the driveway and I took the hatchback and drove south on the highway to the city. The big city, our big capital of the province, Toronto. Not sure if that's what it's called in your world, Emerald. It's huge. And empty.
There's nobody anywhere. I thought maybe they all disappeared the day that I managed to get out, and that's why everything looks so pristine and taken care of still. But I've been exploring for ten days and nothing has changed. It's almost like a stasis has been put over everything. You'd think that there would be signs of no human care for anything, but there aren't.
I sat under the CN tower and smoked my first cigarette. It wasn't good, but it wasn't exactly bad, but it was something to do. I've never considered smoking before, but it seems like it doesn't really matter now. I don't need to eat, for whatever reason, so I figured smoking wouldn't hurt me. And even if it did, who cares, there's nobody here anyway. It's weird just walking into a convenient store and taking what I want. I feel guilty, but who am I supposed to pay? I checked the cash register and it's full of money, just as if the store was open.
The sun went down and all of the pretty lights on the tower lit up. The city always made me nervous because of all of the people, but that night it was beautiful. I walked right down the middle of the streets, watching the lights and looking up at the impossibly tall buildings. It was so quiet, but not in an eerie way. I don't know if I'll ever find anything creepy again.
Oh, and my spider friend came with me. He didn't get in the car, and I don't know if he was on top of it or what, but when I got out in Toronto he was standing next to it. And he followed behind me everywhere I went. It was kind of nice to have a companion, even a giant spider.
I keep thinking about crazy post-apocalyptic movies where there's only one dude left on earth and he goes slowly insane. I think I've past the insane part, on to acceptance. I traveled a lot in the last ten days, and ended up back here. I'd left Sadie a shitload of food, but figured she could use some attention. I was almost afraid she would be here when I got back, disappeared with everything else, but she was here, and she was a little pissed at me for being gone for so long. But I raided a pet store for all kinds of treats and toys so it didn't take her long to forgive me.
I'm thinking of taking a trip across the country, seeing things I never would have had the balls to go and see because of money or horrible social skills. I could get a nice cat carrier for Sadie, maybe find an SUV so that Mr. Spider can ride in the back. I don't know. I keep thinking that I'm so cool about this because I'm in shock, but I'm not so sure. I'm mostly trying to figure out what's going on. But somewhat excited about the adventure that awaits me. In any case, I'll be bringing supplies with me so that I can update on the road. In the meantime, I need a nap in my bed, and we'll see what tomorrow brings.
Which means that I was out. I went to sleep and woke up and I had windows and a door and normal walls again. It took me a good twenty minutes to work up the balls to open my bedroom door. I was afraid of what I was going to find. I've been stuck in here so long that I wasn't even sure that I wanted to find out what had been happening out there around me. Or what 'out there' even was anymore.
Turns out, that everything out there is still exactly the same as the last time I saw it. Except there are no people. Anywhere.
Seriously jarring for me. In all of these theories about other worlds, that was my biggest fear was that I would step outside into an alien landscape, or one that was twisted from my own. But it's the same old Kentigerna, just without any people at all.
The weird thing is that everything is still very well kept. I wandered into the grocery store and everything is still perfectly fresh. And in the evenings, things close, and lights go off, and the world goes to sleep. But I haven't seen a single soul. My roommates' cars were in the driveway and I took the hatchback and drove south on the highway to the city. The big city, our big capital of the province, Toronto. Not sure if that's what it's called in your world, Emerald. It's huge. And empty.
There's nobody anywhere. I thought maybe they all disappeared the day that I managed to get out, and that's why everything looks so pristine and taken care of still. But I've been exploring for ten days and nothing has changed. It's almost like a stasis has been put over everything. You'd think that there would be signs of no human care for anything, but there aren't.
I sat under the CN tower and smoked my first cigarette. It wasn't good, but it wasn't exactly bad, but it was something to do. I've never considered smoking before, but it seems like it doesn't really matter now. I don't need to eat, for whatever reason, so I figured smoking wouldn't hurt me. And even if it did, who cares, there's nobody here anyway. It's weird just walking into a convenient store and taking what I want. I feel guilty, but who am I supposed to pay? I checked the cash register and it's full of money, just as if the store was open.
The sun went down and all of the pretty lights on the tower lit up. The city always made me nervous because of all of the people, but that night it was beautiful. I walked right down the middle of the streets, watching the lights and looking up at the impossibly tall buildings. It was so quiet, but not in an eerie way. I don't know if I'll ever find anything creepy again.
Oh, and my spider friend came with me. He didn't get in the car, and I don't know if he was on top of it or what, but when I got out in Toronto he was standing next to it. And he followed behind me everywhere I went. It was kind of nice to have a companion, even a giant spider.
I keep thinking about crazy post-apocalyptic movies where there's only one dude left on earth and he goes slowly insane. I think I've past the insane part, on to acceptance. I traveled a lot in the last ten days, and ended up back here. I'd left Sadie a shitload of food, but figured she could use some attention. I was almost afraid she would be here when I got back, disappeared with everything else, but she was here, and she was a little pissed at me for being gone for so long. But I raided a pet store for all kinds of treats and toys so it didn't take her long to forgive me.
I'm thinking of taking a trip across the country, seeing things I never would have had the balls to go and see because of money or horrible social skills. I could get a nice cat carrier for Sadie, maybe find an SUV so that Mr. Spider can ride in the back. I don't know. I keep thinking that I'm so cool about this because I'm in shock, but I'm not so sure. I'm mostly trying to figure out what's going on. But somewhat excited about the adventure that awaits me. In any case, I'll be bringing supplies with me so that I can update on the road. In the meantime, I need a nap in my bed, and we'll see what tomorrow brings.
Tuesday 8 January 2013
Candlelight
Good to know that I am communicating with a crazy person, Emerald, I don't think anyone sane would be able to do so. Your comment about catworld (which I think that maybe Sadie came from) made me laugh for the first time in over a week, thank you. I'm not sure what the Simpsons are, but I'm working on a new name for myself.
No giant shoe yet, but my friendly neighborhood spider has spun a web in the far corner of my room. He's made himself a giant hammock, and is all curled up on it. It looks pretty comfortable, I have to say, and he almost looks kind of cute all furry and snuggly. I'm still not ready to pet him yet, but he hasn't made any move to eat me, so perhaps the time will come.
I've spent the last two days scouring blogs, trying to find anyone else in my position. If your multi-world theory is correct, then there must be something about the internet (or maybe just blogger?) that can transcend them. It would be interesting to be able to find other people from other worlds that can communicate this way. If anything, some of the normal blogs may be from other worlds and nobody has noticed. I wonder how anyone could exactly find that out? Crazy to think that any web site that I visit might have been created in another universe, parallel to mine.
I like this theory. It means that I existed, for real, and the place I came from did too. My stint with my hands missing and me not remembering having a name have made me seriously wonder if my identity is slowly being stripped from me. Or that I never really had one at all, or a false one, and I'm losing it because it was never there. But yours is better, Emerald. It could be that wherever I am now, is someplace in between worlds, and it's just messing with my head.
Perhaps the spider is a guardian of some kind, of the gateway between worlds. Somehow, at the turn of the new year, I slipped between realities, and got stuck. Or the spider is rejecting me from the world I almost slipped into (maybe yours?) but can't get me back home.
I've got a bunch of candles lit. I was trying to meditate, sort of, I guess. They say to clear your mind and relax and you'll be able to find some sort of spiritual higher plane of being. I thought it would maybe help me find myself. It doesn't really work. But I don't really understand how to clear one's mind anyway.
It's kind of peaceful, being in the candlelight. Sadie is next to me, curled up in a little ball. I wonder if at some point she'll stop being hungry too, and lose the need to eat? I have enough cat food in the bag to probably last another month, I hope she'll be okay. Oh well, cats have nine lives, right? In a month I'll probably have figured out how to communicate with the spider. Maybe figure out how to get out of here, get somewhere, anywhere.
Or maybe the theory in the back of my head is true, and I'm dead. Maybe this is purgatory. I can't really say it's hell, and I definitely don't think it's heaven. I don't know. I've got time to speculate, though. I'm going to search for some cool names, and see what I can come up with. Have a good evening, Emerald.
No giant shoe yet, but my friendly neighborhood spider has spun a web in the far corner of my room. He's made himself a giant hammock, and is all curled up on it. It looks pretty comfortable, I have to say, and he almost looks kind of cute all furry and snuggly. I'm still not ready to pet him yet, but he hasn't made any move to eat me, so perhaps the time will come.
I've spent the last two days scouring blogs, trying to find anyone else in my position. If your multi-world theory is correct, then there must be something about the internet (or maybe just blogger?) that can transcend them. It would be interesting to be able to find other people from other worlds that can communicate this way. If anything, some of the normal blogs may be from other worlds and nobody has noticed. I wonder how anyone could exactly find that out? Crazy to think that any web site that I visit might have been created in another universe, parallel to mine.
I like this theory. It means that I existed, for real, and the place I came from did too. My stint with my hands missing and me not remembering having a name have made me seriously wonder if my identity is slowly being stripped from me. Or that I never really had one at all, or a false one, and I'm losing it because it was never there. But yours is better, Emerald. It could be that wherever I am now, is someplace in between worlds, and it's just messing with my head.
Perhaps the spider is a guardian of some kind, of the gateway between worlds. Somehow, at the turn of the new year, I slipped between realities, and got stuck. Or the spider is rejecting me from the world I almost slipped into (maybe yours?) but can't get me back home.
I've got a bunch of candles lit. I was trying to meditate, sort of, I guess. They say to clear your mind and relax and you'll be able to find some sort of spiritual higher plane of being. I thought it would maybe help me find myself. It doesn't really work. But I don't really understand how to clear one's mind anyway.
It's kind of peaceful, being in the candlelight. Sadie is next to me, curled up in a little ball. I wonder if at some point she'll stop being hungry too, and lose the need to eat? I have enough cat food in the bag to probably last another month, I hope she'll be okay. Oh well, cats have nine lives, right? In a month I'll probably have figured out how to communicate with the spider. Maybe figure out how to get out of here, get somewhere, anywhere.
Or maybe the theory in the back of my head is true, and I'm dead. Maybe this is purgatory. I can't really say it's hell, and I definitely don't think it's heaven. I don't know. I've got time to speculate, though. I'm going to search for some cool names, and see what I can come up with. Have a good evening, Emerald.
Sunday 6 January 2013
Purgatory?
So my address doesn't exist. I can't say I'm surprised. Thanks for not sugar coating, it's kind of nice having someone be so blunt with me. It's strange, knowing my address doesn't exist and then not remembering my name. Did I ever exist at all? How am I communicating with anyone? In another world? In the 'real' world?
I suppose it's possible that my life was real, just in another world parallel to yours. Interesting that at this point I'm communicating specifically with yours. I read a book once where these monsters would kill people, but when they did it took all traces of them out of existence. So that nobody even remembered they were there. Maybe that happened to me? My whole town, gone? Or called something else, just because it was related to me? I don't even remember what that book was called.
Maybe it doesn't exist anymore, either.
A giant shoe would definitely help me. :) Thanks for cheering me up, Emerald.
I suppose it's possible that my life was real, just in another world parallel to yours. Interesting that at this point I'm communicating specifically with yours. I read a book once where these monsters would kill people, but when they did it took all traces of them out of existence. So that nobody even remembered they were there. Maybe that happened to me? My whole town, gone? Or called something else, just because it was related to me? I don't even remember what that book was called.
Maybe it doesn't exist anymore, either.
A giant shoe would definitely help me. :) Thanks for cheering me up, Emerald.
A rose by any other name
I forgot my name today. I had to go and check my first blog post, and now I know it's Charmaine, but I don't remember it ever being Charmaine. I don't remember ever having a name. It's disconcerting. Maybe my humanity is slowing being stripped from me. Maybe that's what the spider eats. Identities. I should stop talking to him, maybe he'll eat my memories too.
It's weird, not having a name. I remember my whole life up until this point and everyone has referred to me as 'you' or not used any pronouns at all. It's impossible that that's happened. How would my parents have taught me my name in the first place if they never used it? Am I just going to be a brainless sack of flesh in here? Is that the ultimate goal?
The spider is hanging out on my bookshelf now. I just noticed today that he's got seven eyes. They're blue/black, so they blended in to his body and fur, but I stared at him for quite awhile this morning and figured out that the shiny bulbs along his body are eyes. The way the light is hitting him right now... it almost looks like he's looking at me. But I don't know how spiders see.
I researched spider-gods all night. Most cultures have spiders in their folklore as trickster characters, to teach kids to know the difference between right and wrong. The only reference to gods is the Egyptian Goddess Neith who rules over spinning and weaving, thus symbolized by the spider. My spider hasn't woven anything, so I don't think it's her. Also I'm so convinced that he's a he at this point it would be weird to think of him as a goddess.
I got lost in wikipedia... spiders to spider-girl to grandfather paradoxes to the chicken-and-egg theory. I guess I might as well use my imprisonment to learn things. Especially if I don't have an identity anymore. Maybe I can just create a new one. Can you do that?
I'm still me, even if I don't have a name anymore. Or maybe I do, and for some reason my subconscious is rejecting it. Maybe I can find a better name, one more fitting for my situation. Something reflecting isolation and ghost limbs and spider camaraderie. I'll get back to you.
It's weird, not having a name. I remember my whole life up until this point and everyone has referred to me as 'you' or not used any pronouns at all. It's impossible that that's happened. How would my parents have taught me my name in the first place if they never used it? Am I just going to be a brainless sack of flesh in here? Is that the ultimate goal?
The spider is hanging out on my bookshelf now. I just noticed today that he's got seven eyes. They're blue/black, so they blended in to his body and fur, but I stared at him for quite awhile this morning and figured out that the shiny bulbs along his body are eyes. The way the light is hitting him right now... it almost looks like he's looking at me. But I don't know how spiders see.
I researched spider-gods all night. Most cultures have spiders in their folklore as trickster characters, to teach kids to know the difference between right and wrong. The only reference to gods is the Egyptian Goddess Neith who rules over spinning and weaving, thus symbolized by the spider. My spider hasn't woven anything, so I don't think it's her. Also I'm so convinced that he's a he at this point it would be weird to think of him as a goddess.
I got lost in wikipedia... spiders to spider-girl to grandfather paradoxes to the chicken-and-egg theory. I guess I might as well use my imprisonment to learn things. Especially if I don't have an identity anymore. Maybe I can just create a new one. Can you do that?
I'm still me, even if I don't have a name anymore. Or maybe I do, and for some reason my subconscious is rejecting it. Maybe I can find a better name, one more fitting for my situation. Something reflecting isolation and ghost limbs and spider camaraderie. I'll get back to you.
Saturday 5 January 2013
Hello Emerald
I have a reply. Thank you for your concern. I'm not sure if I'm all right, but I'm still alive, if that's what you mean. It's comforting to know that someone insists that I must exist... but how do I know that you exist?
There was a giant spider holding my laptop hostage. Sounds insane, but true. When his massive furry legs crawled up over the edge of my bed Sadie and I made a beeline for the other side of the room. He didn't attack us. He just sat on my bed. For a very long time.
Now he's on the ceiling. I think he's a he, anyway. I've been talking to him. I don't know if he can understand me or even hear me... I don't think that regular spiders can understand humans but he's so big... he's got two humps on his back like a camel. The sapphire blue hairs all over his body look really soft, but as used to his presence as I am at this point, I don't think I'll be touching him anytime soon. I've never really had a problem with spiders... but I'm pretty sure he could eat me and Sadie whole. Together.
Emerald. What a pretty name. I don't know if it's your real name, people use internet handles all the time, but it's pretty anyway. I bet you get that a lot. I hope I didn't offend by implying you don't exist. I just... I don't really know what is real and not real anymore. Five days ago I wouldn't have thought that walls could melt or that giant spiders existed. But here I am. Maybe nothing existed before and I've been born into a new world. Or maybe I've been shunted into another one and for some reason the only link is this.
I'm pretty proud of myself right now. I'm not shaking... I think I'm starting to deal with the fear. Maybe Sadie's carefree attitude is rubbing off on me. I'm so glad she's here. It's probably selfish of me to want her in this place, but it's nice to have her comfort. I hope she feels the same way. I wish she could talk back to me. I almost wish the spider could too, even though I'm not sure I'd like what he had to say. He might have all the answers, or just more questions, or be trying to figure out what part of me would taste best.
Tell me about yourself, Emerald, convince me you exist. Do you live near me? No, don't answer that. The crippling fear pushed down in the back of my head is that nothing is out there. Even if you are a figment of my imagination, having you tell me that the fire department was here, and nothing is amiss... I don't know what I really want to hear right now. Maybe, just talk to me. Some kind of normalcy. Do you have a family? Pets?
My family is pretty cool. I have an older brother, Stephen, he's thirty and lives in China. He likes travel photography, but he's old school. He uses an old Nikon film camera and takes all kinds of cool pictures all over the world. He makes travel journals, he's published a few but most are just for his own collection. I haven't seen him in a few years, but he likes to send me postcards. It's too bad he isn't computer savvy, then I could follow a travel blog or something, just to feel close.
My parents live in Texas, in a trailer park. That sounds kinda rednecky but it's not, it's a community for retired people that hate winter. Bingo nights and stuff. Their trailer is more like a bungalow, really. I've seen pictures. Little white picket fence, a birdbath. I've always meant to visit but it's expensive to go, and I don't know what I'd do with Sadie. My roommates are cool but she needs a lot of attention. Or maybe she doesn't. Maybe it's me that's needy and she's the one giving me the attention.
He moved a little. The spider. I'm glad I have a lamp instead of a light fixture because he'd probably be straddling it right now. To be honest, I don't even know how the lamp is working... the power cord just disappears into the muck. There's got to be an outlet under there somewhere, and for some reason it's working. I thought about trying to feel it or something, but I'm afraid the plug will come out and I won't be able to get it back in. Same with the computer. I don't want to be stuck with only the screen as my light... without windows it's dark in here, the only reason I know the time of day is because of the computer.
I never really thought about the existence of god before. Should it be capitalized? I don't know much about religion. Public schools all my life. Wouldn't it be funny if the spider was god? I don't think there are any religions that have a giant humpbacked spider as their deity. Maybe I'll research that for awhile before I try to sleep. If I find one, I hope they find this blog so that it's confirmed their god exists. And he's wasting his time hanging out with me in my gooey prison bedroom.
Goodnight, Emerald.
There was a giant spider holding my laptop hostage. Sounds insane, but true. When his massive furry legs crawled up over the edge of my bed Sadie and I made a beeline for the other side of the room. He didn't attack us. He just sat on my bed. For a very long time.
Now he's on the ceiling. I think he's a he, anyway. I've been talking to him. I don't know if he can understand me or even hear me... I don't think that regular spiders can understand humans but he's so big... he's got two humps on his back like a camel. The sapphire blue hairs all over his body look really soft, but as used to his presence as I am at this point, I don't think I'll be touching him anytime soon. I've never really had a problem with spiders... but I'm pretty sure he could eat me and Sadie whole. Together.
Emerald. What a pretty name. I don't know if it's your real name, people use internet handles all the time, but it's pretty anyway. I bet you get that a lot. I hope I didn't offend by implying you don't exist. I just... I don't really know what is real and not real anymore. Five days ago I wouldn't have thought that walls could melt or that giant spiders existed. But here I am. Maybe nothing existed before and I've been born into a new world. Or maybe I've been shunted into another one and for some reason the only link is this.
I'm pretty proud of myself right now. I'm not shaking... I think I'm starting to deal with the fear. Maybe Sadie's carefree attitude is rubbing off on me. I'm so glad she's here. It's probably selfish of me to want her in this place, but it's nice to have her comfort. I hope she feels the same way. I wish she could talk back to me. I almost wish the spider could too, even though I'm not sure I'd like what he had to say. He might have all the answers, or just more questions, or be trying to figure out what part of me would taste best.
Tell me about yourself, Emerald, convince me you exist. Do you live near me? No, don't answer that. The crippling fear pushed down in the back of my head is that nothing is out there. Even if you are a figment of my imagination, having you tell me that the fire department was here, and nothing is amiss... I don't know what I really want to hear right now. Maybe, just talk to me. Some kind of normalcy. Do you have a family? Pets?
My family is pretty cool. I have an older brother, Stephen, he's thirty and lives in China. He likes travel photography, but he's old school. He uses an old Nikon film camera and takes all kinds of cool pictures all over the world. He makes travel journals, he's published a few but most are just for his own collection. I haven't seen him in a few years, but he likes to send me postcards. It's too bad he isn't computer savvy, then I could follow a travel blog or something, just to feel close.
My parents live in Texas, in a trailer park. That sounds kinda rednecky but it's not, it's a community for retired people that hate winter. Bingo nights and stuff. Their trailer is more like a bungalow, really. I've seen pictures. Little white picket fence, a birdbath. I've always meant to visit but it's expensive to go, and I don't know what I'd do with Sadie. My roommates are cool but she needs a lot of attention. Or maybe she doesn't. Maybe it's me that's needy and she's the one giving me the attention.
He moved a little. The spider. I'm glad I have a lamp instead of a light fixture because he'd probably be straddling it right now. To be honest, I don't even know how the lamp is working... the power cord just disappears into the muck. There's got to be an outlet under there somewhere, and for some reason it's working. I thought about trying to feel it or something, but I'm afraid the plug will come out and I won't be able to get it back in. Same with the computer. I don't want to be stuck with only the screen as my light... without windows it's dark in here, the only reason I know the time of day is because of the computer.
I never really thought about the existence of god before. Should it be capitalized? I don't know much about religion. Public schools all my life. Wouldn't it be funny if the spider was god? I don't think there are any religions that have a giant humpbacked spider as their deity. Maybe I'll research that for awhile before I try to sleep. If I find one, I hope they find this blog so that it's confirmed their god exists. And he's wasting his time hanging out with me in my gooey prison bedroom.
Goodnight, Emerald.
Thursday 3 January 2013
My hands are back
I don't even know if it's possible to be scared anymore. My hands disappeared in the middle of that last sentence. Just above the wrist. Gone. Like I'd been amputated for years. Can you imagine how much it sucks to be bawling your eyes out and not be able to blow your nose? I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life. I almost crushed my laptop I jumped off of my bed so hard.
And then, ten minutes ago, they just came back. I wanted to cry with joy but my eyes are so dry now from crying all day that they're sore. I couldn't even pet Sadie when she tried to comfort me. It was horrible. My heart goes out to anyone who's ever lost a limb, even though I lost them for a short time... I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I don't know what's happening to me. I kept trying to convince myself that this wasn't real, that it was a dream. But it's all so vivid, and it feels like I've been in here for years.
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to deal with this. How long will it last? Am I going to die in here? Why hasn't anyone come looking for me? My roommates? My coworkers? It's as if I don't exist anymore. I haven't eaten since before my hands disappeared, and I'm not even hungry. But I don't feel lethargic, or starved.... I just don't feel like I need to eat. Maybe I won't die in here. Maybe I'm just going to live in here forever.
I'm not a bad person. But I keep thinking that maybe I'm in hell. Somehow, I died at the turn of 2013 and I'm now in hell. Stuck in this melting room, demons fucking with me and taking my limbs, blogging the only way to try to reach out to someone, anyone. I'm not even sure if there's anyone out there. Maybe the whole world has ended. Maybe everyone else is dead. Maybe they're all trapped too, unable to leave the confines of their rooms or wherever they are.
I need to sleep.
And then, ten minutes ago, they just came back. I wanted to cry with joy but my eyes are so dry now from crying all day that they're sore. I couldn't even pet Sadie when she tried to comfort me. It was horrible. My heart goes out to anyone who's ever lost a limb, even though I lost them for a short time... I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I don't know what's happening to me. I kept trying to convince myself that this wasn't real, that it was a dream. But it's all so vivid, and it feels like I've been in here for years.
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to deal with this. How long will it last? Am I going to die in here? Why hasn't anyone come looking for me? My roommates? My coworkers? It's as if I don't exist anymore. I haven't eaten since before my hands disappeared, and I'm not even hungry. But I don't feel lethargic, or starved.... I just don't feel like I need to eat. Maybe I won't die in here. Maybe I'm just going to live in here forever.
I'm not a bad person. But I keep thinking that maybe I'm in hell. Somehow, I died at the turn of 2013 and I'm now in hell. Stuck in this melting room, demons fucking with me and taking my limbs, blogging the only way to try to reach out to someone, anyone. I'm not even sure if there's anyone out there. Maybe the whole world has ended. Maybe everyone else is dead. Maybe they're all trapped too, unable to leave the confines of their rooms or wherever they are.
I need to sleep.
Wednesday 2 January 2013
Still here
So after a long ass panic attack and blacking out for almost 24 hours, I feel better. Sadie woke me up, she was starving, poor thing. Maybe if I distract myself I'll be okay. Toblerone and ginger ale. I guess I could talk about something else while I wait for help.
As I said, I'm Charmaine. I'm 22 years old, and I have strawberry blonde hair and light blue eyes. I'm about 5'5" and probably porkier than I should be. Maybe that's why I ended up alone with my cat on new years eve. I likely could have invited myself to one of the parties in town, it's not like I don't have friends, just no really close ones. People that I talk to at work, or at the coffee shop. I don't really have the personality to take the initiative and invite people out or anything like that.
Guys are my weakest point. I have a hard time talking to them, especially the cute ones. There are a few that I've gotten used to, but I don't think they they'd ever view me the way that I want them to. My roommates are cool, but they call me 'little sis', so I've been totally friendzoned. It sucks. I don't know if I'd really be interested in them that way anyway, but it would be nice to be pursued, you know?
There's one guy that comes into the coffee shop... that's where I work, by the way. I'm a waitress at Sally's Cafe. Anyway, there's this guy, I don't even know his name, but he has such a nice voice. I'm not sure what he does for a living, but he always looks so nice in his button up shirts and dress pants. He's got dark hair and dark eyes, super hot. Takes his coffee with just cream. Sigh.
Sometimes I feel like I'm wasting my time, reading books with my cat and waitressing, wishing that I could get married and have kids and be a happy family for the rest of my life. When I was a teenager I thought that by twenty I'd have it all figured out, I'd be an adult and I'd move on with the fun chapter of life. Don't get me wrong, adulthood is way better than high school.... don't even get me started on high school. I just felt like there would be more. And I don't feel any different then I did back then. I just have bigger boobs.
This is a pretty pathetic memoir.
Maybe that's why this is happening to me. I spend most of my time in here anyway, why not be locked in? Maybe this is god or whatever is up there telling me that I should appreciate life more, get out there. I don't know. If I get out of this, I'll ask whoever saves me on a date. Grab the bull by the horns, as they say. I wouldn't know where to start, but that would be good, right? If it's a guy, I mean. I guess I shouldn't be picky, maybe I should be more open minded. How would I even know that I couldn't date a girl? She'd probably understand me better.
No, I don't think I could. Especially because I want to have kids with whoever I marry. I guess lesbians can adopt... but I'd rather have my own. I don't think I'd be cut out to be a lesbian.
I'm not a virgin, by the way, if that's what you're thinking. Just because guys don't ask me on dates doesn't mean drunk guys don't manage to seduce me sometimes. That's the only time I get any confidence anyway. I just always make sure I end up at their place so that I can slip out once they fall asleep. I know my confidence will be gone by the morning, and I don't want to have to deal with the complicated aftermath.
I guess that should have been my New Years resolution. Work on my self esteem. I guess I've got nothing but time in here.
Sadie is back from dinner and drooling on me again. She's such a suck. I've never known any other cats to drool. As soon as she's happy and close to you, there's a wet spot. What a weirdo. She's a fat little tabby, and the best cat in the world. At least I'm not alone in here.
So, a shot at better self esteem: Hi, my name is Charmaine. And I'm hot shi
As I said, I'm Charmaine. I'm 22 years old, and I have strawberry blonde hair and light blue eyes. I'm about 5'5" and probably porkier than I should be. Maybe that's why I ended up alone with my cat on new years eve. I likely could have invited myself to one of the parties in town, it's not like I don't have friends, just no really close ones. People that I talk to at work, or at the coffee shop. I don't really have the personality to take the initiative and invite people out or anything like that.
Guys are my weakest point. I have a hard time talking to them, especially the cute ones. There are a few that I've gotten used to, but I don't think they they'd ever view me the way that I want them to. My roommates are cool, but they call me 'little sis', so I've been totally friendzoned. It sucks. I don't know if I'd really be interested in them that way anyway, but it would be nice to be pursued, you know?
There's one guy that comes into the coffee shop... that's where I work, by the way. I'm a waitress at Sally's Cafe. Anyway, there's this guy, I don't even know his name, but he has such a nice voice. I'm not sure what he does for a living, but he always looks so nice in his button up shirts and dress pants. He's got dark hair and dark eyes, super hot. Takes his coffee with just cream. Sigh.
Sometimes I feel like I'm wasting my time, reading books with my cat and waitressing, wishing that I could get married and have kids and be a happy family for the rest of my life. When I was a teenager I thought that by twenty I'd have it all figured out, I'd be an adult and I'd move on with the fun chapter of life. Don't get me wrong, adulthood is way better than high school.... don't even get me started on high school. I just felt like there would be more. And I don't feel any different then I did back then. I just have bigger boobs.
This is a pretty pathetic memoir.
Maybe that's why this is happening to me. I spend most of my time in here anyway, why not be locked in? Maybe this is god or whatever is up there telling me that I should appreciate life more, get out there. I don't know. If I get out of this, I'll ask whoever saves me on a date. Grab the bull by the horns, as they say. I wouldn't know where to start, but that would be good, right? If it's a guy, I mean. I guess I shouldn't be picky, maybe I should be more open minded. How would I even know that I couldn't date a girl? She'd probably understand me better.
No, I don't think I could. Especially because I want to have kids with whoever I marry. I guess lesbians can adopt... but I'd rather have my own. I don't think I'd be cut out to be a lesbian.
I'm not a virgin, by the way, if that's what you're thinking. Just because guys don't ask me on dates doesn't mean drunk guys don't manage to seduce me sometimes. That's the only time I get any confidence anyway. I just always make sure I end up at their place so that I can slip out once they fall asleep. I know my confidence will be gone by the morning, and I don't want to have to deal with the complicated aftermath.
I guess that should have been my New Years resolution. Work on my self esteem. I guess I've got nothing but time in here.
Sadie is back from dinner and drooling on me again. She's such a suck. I've never known any other cats to drool. As soon as she's happy and close to you, there's a wet spot. What a weirdo. She's a fat little tabby, and the best cat in the world. At least I'm not alone in here.
So, a shot at better self esteem: Hi, my name is Charmaine. And I'm hot shi
Tuesday 1 January 2013
Insane
New theory. I've totally gone insane. I'm hallucinating all of this, and I'm in a padded room somewhere but I just think it's my bedroom. That would explain why the walls feel all squishy, it's the padding. Right? So I'm typing this for nothing then. Because I'm not actually typing this, and nobody is seeing it. I've already been diagnosed and shipped off.
I don't feel insane.
Sadie is totally cool with this. She's purring and drooling on my arm as I type this. Maybe in reality I'm all doped up and drooling on my own arm. Fuck, I'm freaking out a bit again. Excuse me for a few minutes.
I don't feel insane.
Sadie is totally cool with this. She's purring and drooling on my arm as I type this. Maybe in reality I'm all doped up and drooling on my own arm. Fuck, I'm freaking out a bit again. Excuse me for a few minutes.
... it worked
I'm not even sure what to say now. I've spent the last thirteen hours trying to contact somebody, anybody, and now I don't even know how to explain what's happening to me.
My name is Charmaine Robinson, I'm from Kentigerna, Ontario, Canada, and I live at 1892 Ashton Drive. It's a white two story house with a green trim, and I'm trapped in my bedroom upstairs. The walls are melting and I can't get out.
This sounds stupid. Nobody is going to believe me. If anyone even sees this. Maybe some stoners poking around online in a few weeks will come across it and be high enough to actually look me up. For some reason this is the only outlet I can use. I've tried calling, texting, emailing, tweeting, facebook.... nothing sends. Just dead air, blank text boxes.
This is happening because I'm a loser. Instead of crashing somebody's new years party, I decided to lay in bed and read and ring in 2013 with my cat. I'm that girl. I was supposed to work today. But I'm five hours late. And nobody's called. I can't tell if my roommates are home yet because the walls have melted down over the windows.
Yeah, that's a thing. I had an alarm set on my phone for midnight so I could wake up and say happy new year to Sadie (my cat) and when I reached over to hit snooze I overreached and smacked my hand into putty. I thought maybe Sadie had gotten into something (pudding? Do we even have pudding in this house?) somehow and spilled something on the wall (from where? Wtf?) and when I turned on the light I fucking screamed.
I've almost gotten used to it at this point. Not the wall melting, but the fear making my body throb. I made a beeline for my door but it was a gooey mass without a doorknob to be seen. My windows are gone, I've tried digging through the shit but it has the consistency of squishy rubber, I can't get through it. It's not pooling on the floor either, just slowly sagging forever and ever, maybe sucking back into itself in the bottom and then running back down again at the top. I don't know. It doesn't make any physical or logical sense. But it's happening.
My throat is sore from screaming for help. I don't know how the neighbors didn't hear me. Like I said I've tried every means of communication. And for some reason, Blogger, of all things, works. Not exactly the most useful thing for me. If you're reading this, wherever you are, call the cops or fire department in Kentigerna and get them to blow my bedroom door down or something, anything... I've got a decent stash of chocolate in here leftover from Christmas and a case of raspberry ginger ale, but I don't know how long it'll keep me going.
Or call my house, tell my roommates to get their asses up here and help me. The number is 555-9027. Their names are Joel and Chris. Joel would be best, he's a beastly dude, he could probably break the door down, melty rubber and all. I don't know why they wouldn't have checked on me yet. My car's outside, they usually yell 'whatup?!' or something when they come in the door. I wouldn't possibly be sleeping at this point, also I'm supposed to be at work! Why hasn't anyone tried to find me?!
I've already exhausted the theory that I'm dreaming. I've never had such a long uneventful dream. I mean seriously, aside from the walls melting, who dreams about sitting in a room trying to use every means of social networking for half a day? This is severely fucked up. Unless I'm in a coma. Maybe the world ended at midnight and I'm stuck in some kind of purgatory. I wonder where these blog posts would go.
Maybe I should try to sleep. If I'm dreaming maybe that will wake me up. Fuck. I'm so scared, I don't think I could sleep. People always say that though and then they're so exhausted from being scared that they pass out. I'll try. Plus the faster I get this post up the faster I can start hoping to hell that somebody will read this and find me. Here's hoping I wake up.
My name is Charmaine Robinson, I'm from Kentigerna, Ontario, Canada, and I live at 1892 Ashton Drive. It's a white two story house with a green trim, and I'm trapped in my bedroom upstairs. The walls are melting and I can't get out.
This sounds stupid. Nobody is going to believe me. If anyone even sees this. Maybe some stoners poking around online in a few weeks will come across it and be high enough to actually look me up. For some reason this is the only outlet I can use. I've tried calling, texting, emailing, tweeting, facebook.... nothing sends. Just dead air, blank text boxes.
This is happening because I'm a loser. Instead of crashing somebody's new years party, I decided to lay in bed and read and ring in 2013 with my cat. I'm that girl. I was supposed to work today. But I'm five hours late. And nobody's called. I can't tell if my roommates are home yet because the walls have melted down over the windows.
Yeah, that's a thing. I had an alarm set on my phone for midnight so I could wake up and say happy new year to Sadie (my cat) and when I reached over to hit snooze I overreached and smacked my hand into putty. I thought maybe Sadie had gotten into something (pudding? Do we even have pudding in this house?) somehow and spilled something on the wall (from where? Wtf?) and when I turned on the light I fucking screamed.
I've almost gotten used to it at this point. Not the wall melting, but the fear making my body throb. I made a beeline for my door but it was a gooey mass without a doorknob to be seen. My windows are gone, I've tried digging through the shit but it has the consistency of squishy rubber, I can't get through it. It's not pooling on the floor either, just slowly sagging forever and ever, maybe sucking back into itself in the bottom and then running back down again at the top. I don't know. It doesn't make any physical or logical sense. But it's happening.
My throat is sore from screaming for help. I don't know how the neighbors didn't hear me. Like I said I've tried every means of communication. And for some reason, Blogger, of all things, works. Not exactly the most useful thing for me. If you're reading this, wherever you are, call the cops or fire department in Kentigerna and get them to blow my bedroom door down or something, anything... I've got a decent stash of chocolate in here leftover from Christmas and a case of raspberry ginger ale, but I don't know how long it'll keep me going.
Or call my house, tell my roommates to get their asses up here and help me. The number is 555-9027. Their names are Joel and Chris. Joel would be best, he's a beastly dude, he could probably break the door down, melty rubber and all. I don't know why they wouldn't have checked on me yet. My car's outside, they usually yell 'whatup?!' or something when they come in the door. I wouldn't possibly be sleeping at this point, also I'm supposed to be at work! Why hasn't anyone tried to find me?!
I've already exhausted the theory that I'm dreaming. I've never had such a long uneventful dream. I mean seriously, aside from the walls melting, who dreams about sitting in a room trying to use every means of social networking for half a day? This is severely fucked up. Unless I'm in a coma. Maybe the world ended at midnight and I'm stuck in some kind of purgatory. I wonder where these blog posts would go.
Maybe I should try to sleep. If I'm dreaming maybe that will wake me up. Fuck. I'm so scared, I don't think I could sleep. People always say that though and then they're so exhausted from being scared that they pass out. I'll try. Plus the faster I get this post up the faster I can start hoping to hell that somebody will read this and find me. Here's hoping I wake up.
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