Sunday, April 15, 2012

Best Laid Plans

I'm still here. Still alive.

I don't have time to answer where I've been or what I've been doing right now, except for what the last day and a half for me was like. Yesterday...I woke up screaming. And I mean, really, really fucking screaming, bloody murder for at least the next...three hours?
fuck I'm not even sure how fucking long it was it was just awful and

I remember feeling like I was on fire. I didn't see him anywhere, I couldn't have through all the smoke and flames. But then...have you ever pulled a muscle? Imagine that, but one thousand times worse, like every single muscle in your body is being tugged so hard it's going to snap loose from underneath your skin. That's the feeling I woke up to yesterday morning, early in the morning...

and then I saw her eyes.

I don't know exactly whether or not I was awake or asleep. Writhing around in pain on top of a roof top only lasted so long, and then I don't remember anything but her eyes. when I finally came out of it, I knew I had to finally bite the bullet and check her blog, read it for the first time in months. And she's gone. She's dead. I'm never going to see her again, none of us are. What am I really supposed to say? 'Sorry I betrayed and hurt you, Elaine, I hope you have a nice afterlife'? God, it makes me sick just joking about it. I can't. I can't bring myself to feel...anything positive.

It must have been obvious to everyone by now that Elaine and I carried on a relationship during our times together at Hope. I practically helped co-run the thing. And then, when I was done, I ran it into the ground. I'm such a nice guy, aren't I?

I never meant to hurt her. I loved her. I still love her. God, I love her so much and I'm never going to get a chance to sleep in late and hold her in my arms and brush hair out of her eyes and tell her everything is going to be alright ever again because it's not going to be alright, never again. I want all those things, but "you can't, always get, what you want" am I right? So I'll just say what needs to be said and hope that maybe...maybe...probably not likely...I can heal.

So most of you know the things Elaine did before, and what she has done in recent months. But you don't know her in private like I do. Not many of you, anyway. You don't know the woman who shook with nerves almost constantly, who was always peering over her shoulder for the next danger to face. Not because she was worried that she would get hurt, no, but because she was worried that someone she cared about might get hurt by whatever was looming just around the corner. And whenever anyone did get hurt, she cried and blamed herself for it all. It was irrational but it was Elaine. She was crazy but she cared so damn much about all of us.

About me. And I blew it, didn't I?

A few words will suffice to tell what little remains of this story...I was and still am in love with Elaine Logan, a now-dead woman. She was insane until the very end, with more problems than you could count with four arms, and that was just the way we all knew and loved her(most of us anyway.) She was a friend so incredibly loyal that it might make the most steadfast knight embarrassed with his own disloyalty. She was a fighter who never gave up on the people she loved even when it got to the point that she was hurting herself terribly. I know that people get tired of the cliche about 'not speaking ill of the dead' but I feel like Elaine deserves I hope that we can all give her some peace, finally.

That's all I have for now. I'm too tired and to hurt to post about what I've been doing, but there's a reason I've been out of commission for a while...and that reason is that I haven't. You'll see.

Goodbye, Elaine. I love you.

Peace and love.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

No Lodging for the Mad

So after my big, epic announcement, you'd figure I'd have some shit done, right?


But I have been running around formulating a plan based on this new decision of mine. Rest assured, I'm not a complete fucking bum.

See the plan is coming together. I haven't got all the equipment I need yet but I will, and soon. I'm going to go make some connections. I know who to talk to, I've talked to plenty of people during my time on the run, and when you need to get shit done without tipping anyone(hint: whoever the fuck is still following me) there are a specific set of people you can go to for that sort of thing. I'm a pretty resourceful man, believe it or not, guys. My money doesn't come from nowhere. Shit, my ideas don't even come from nowhere.

But right now, what I really need, is a warehouse.

Peace out,

Friday, March 2, 2012

Risking what now?

What the fuck have I been doing with myself lately?

Well, as plenty of you probably saw, beating up on people who really don't deserve beating on. I met with Gargoyle so I could pick a fight(don't let him fool ya, it was my fuckign idea) and have a chat with someone who didn't know me and it turned out pretty fucking interesting.

See, he said a lot of things to me that got me thinking. Some of them he left out of that post of his, but he did a mostly good fucking job of recording our interactions so I wont bore you by repeating what you already know. I'll just go over my end of the event.

We met up on a really sunny day. I mean really, really fucking sunny. It was so bright the pavement hurt my eyes, and I could barely tell it was him when he started walking up. I was actually prepared for a fight: bastard dresses up crazier than I do, and I'm covered in operator tats from like fucking head to toe. He had on a torn up red hoodie and camo pants for some fucking reason. The guy's kind of a wirey mess, with his face all bandaged up and his hair all scraggly and cut wrong. He kind of vibrated, he was real fucking skinny and bent out of shape looking.

So we got to talking, and before you know it its an all out brawl and let me tell you, that wirey little fuck can throw one hell of a mean punch when he wants to. Or when he's blacked out, whichever. haha All I know is I'm surprised we didn't get fucking stopped by the cops on that dinky little roof of ours, cause it was a good fight. Shit got hard fast, so when he went down I figured I'd take him down to the alley and help him sit down. He mumbled a lot about that "Onewinged" guy he's always going on about on his blog and being able to get through some "code" of his...

And you know I just sat there looking at him. I started thinking again, like I used to in the old days. Instead of just feelin gcrazy, I actually wondered about shit. I thought real hard...something like

"What have I been doing lately? Is this what it comes down to? Settling scores byscraping up people I could be making friends with? Fuck if this is making a difference I don't want to do it anymore. I want to change. I have to do something, and fast, to find out what I could be fucking doing better. Like in the old Testing days."

Then Gargoyle and I had that discussion, and I reazlied...I dunno why the fuck I stopped Testing! I guess after I left Scott's place and those financial types kidnapped me, I got fucking lost in my own head. This shit changes a person you know? And it let it change me in a bad way.

After that I paid for Gargoyle's lunch and we split up. He said one more thing to me that wasn't meant to be inspirational, but it was. Something like "You know I spend all my time on rooftops but I look up to you and M anyway." I thought that was real fucking nice of him to say. So Gargoyle, if you read this, I am sorry for hitting you over the head like a gazillion and one fucking times.

So you know how I keep talking about not wanting to burn the fuck out? Well I ain't gonna. It's time to get my shit in gear again. it's time to risk death for real. it's time to start fucking testing again.

Peace out,

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Not Afraid

I'm not. I don't want to be, not anymore. There's nothing that corrodes worse than fear.

I checked into a hotel earlier tonight. it's not as though I think it's safe, but I've run out of money and I'm meeting up with someone soon. Maybe I'll have more to say about that later, maybe I wont. It depends on how I feel when I get to it. haha, you guys don't get much about what's going on with me, I'm sorry about that. I try to make a difference but what can I do with only words? I don't know, nothing ever seems to come from what I post on this blog anymore, so...

well, maybe I'm less afraid of Slenderman and more afraid of fading out. Turning into a ghost. It wouldn't be the first time that that's happened to me. When I checked in to the hotel, this old man in the lobby came up to me to tried to make conversation. He was really white haired and whitered, but sweet.

"Ya look like you've had it rough, son." He said.

"Yeah." Was just about all I could respond. "I guess I do."

"Let me tell you, I know what that's like. I fought in the Vietnam War...that shit changes a person. You," And he pointed really intense like at me. "You look like you've seen a war. Like that's changed you. My advice, get yourself some help, and then go do something about it. Go, help other people, do something worth your time, 'cause you got plenty to do with what ya got."

And just, all I could think to respond was, "Yeah." That was it. Nothing but a one word answer that I wasn't okay with and couldn't build a conversation with. His words just really stung. and he left shortly after that so I didn't get to tell him all the things I want to do. I don't even know all the things I want to do. That's what bugs me. I guess I'm just sick of being stuck with shitty circumstances: shady financial organizations experimenting on me, people I care about disappearing right before my eyes(or me, disappearing right in front of them)

and on top of all that there's some fucking Eldritch Abomination that shows up in my hotel room and looks terrifying and it wont go away and it has tentacles for miles but there aren't miles for them to exist within so the world has to stretch and bend and break and

you get the point. I'm going crazy and fading away at the same time, and I'm not okay with that. I need to do something about that. But I don't know what.


"It's better to burn out, than to fade away."

Peace out,

Thursday, February 2, 2012


trying to get myself into the right mind-set for posting has been hard.

You know everywhere I look when I read the blogs I see death and despair and the same old rise and fall, and its genuinely exhausting enough that I've considered giving up on it all, moving to some secluded place somewhere and carving out a life without all of...this. but then I guess I couldn't do that with Slenderman watching me all the time. Why bother? We all think we're doing good, we make some gains, and then what?

we fall.

But I think it was the song that this post shares a title with that said
"Love is not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

so I guess that's why we keep fighting, and that's why I'm making this post. I'm still fighting, guys, I promise. I don't intend this post to be a bitch fest though. You guys need an update on what's going on with me, I figure, or at least I figure those of you still watching want one anyway. Fuck it. I don't care. I'm just talking to a computer screen anyway.

After I left Lis and Tia last month I sort of...wandered. I dunno that I ever felt liek settling down, so when I needed sleep I passed out in gutters or in subway stations(hey gargoyle, I'm almost as far down as you are now!) Didn't see much of Slenderman around, funny enough, and all that time I don't think I did much roof top living. I just didnt have the will to go that high, and bring myself that close to the bleak, grey sun.

Eventually i think I realized that I was only hurting myself by moping. I forgot to eat a lot. I didn't do much but walk, and although that apparently put a good fuckin distance between me and SLendershit, it did nothing but fill me up with the rage and pain and demons eating me alive from the inside. Not to mention the damage it did to my grizzled beard and fucked up joints. I look pretty bad right now.

But you know, that couldn't last, I'm just not that type of person. I am not a ghost. I stopped being a pussy and now I'm back, and I hope you'll all have me even though I've done and said some terrible things. I still have one of the blackest souls that I'm aware of, but at least I have my life, and I'm never giving that up. I'm never giving you guys up, either, not while He's out there torturing all of us. I need to get back into the game and maybe help find a way to combat all this shit. Like in the old days.

And with that said, I've been sitting here at a McDonalds for the past forty five minutes thinking about all the shit I've seen on the blog and you know what? I'm tired of seeing people like me get shit on by the other side. What, we're terrible horrible monsters because we've defended ourselves from you? "Oh boo hoo, the nasty awful stinky evil Runner killed a proxy without even asking her for her name!" You know what?

Fuck you.

We didn't choosethis anymore than you did, and we sure as hell didnt ask for your stuck up, self-righteous opinions on everyt fucking thing. we're in this together and we need to start acting like it. You don't get to take the moral high ground just because you're doing what you have to do, just like we're doing what we have to do. We've all done awful things. All of us. no one is free from this guilt, this sin. And if you think you have any right to judge someone then think again. Because I learned the hard way that doing that can only get people hurt, killed, and broken. So don't you fucking tell me I'm an asshole when I throw a punch because a punch has been thrown. No. That shit does not fly, from this point forward, that shit is done with and if I hear it I promise you you will not like the consequences.

Time to go. Thats my little rant for the day. As usual, Shaun River, all hot air and no action. But at least i've got my head on straight for the time being, sort of. I'll be seeing all f oyou soon.

Peace out.

Monday, January 2, 2012


blah blah blah Here we are again, right? Christmas and New Years and Thanksgiving have passed in a blink. Where the fuck does the time go? I find myself more and more slipping into this crevice of reality where nothing is real and everything around me seems distant or not quite right. I'm not me anymore, or at least not who i thought I was. My own sins have caught up with me I guess, reminded me I'm not half the man I thought i was.

that's a comforting thought, huh?

Sarcasm aside, what is comforting is that I'm not really on the road yet, but by the time I actually am I might not have a chance to post this for lack of internet access, so I'm going to put it here now. I'm still hanging out with Lis and Tia and I wont lie that even though its been hell, with everything thats gone down in the past week, but I've still been glad for the company and distractions for the holidays. Its nice.

Right. Righty right right.

I'd love to stay longer but there are some things irking me that I just can't help but think might feel better if I lfet. No offense to either Lis or Tia, I'm sorry for all the trouble you guys have been put through, I just...need to sort my head out, is all. I need to stop living in nightmares and wandering around ,feeling old pains from those who have gone. Speaking of those who have gone, I cannot imagine the pain most of us must feel for those who have been lost recently. We took a hell of a blow. There's no getting around that. We'll miss all those who are gone, but we must press on.

It's the only thing to do.

It's no fault of you or Tia's, Lis, so stop blaming yourself. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't swat me on the head anymore, please and thank you. Much as I love the attention, you know me, I'm not one for the kinky stuff.

Heh. I'm glad I can at least laugh nowadays. That's a start, anyway.

Peace out,

P.S.- those vids from my time in Chicago should be up in a week or so.

EDIT: Also, I'm told theres some sort of post up here on the blog about Scott, but...I can't see it. I've had the thing read aloud to me and I don't have any idea what the fuck its about. I remember Scott opening a journal, but I don't have it with me or anything so I couldn't have posted the thing...