Cycles

Okay, so...I read up on everything that I've supposedly done. Apparently I went a little crazy, and the minor I took in Mythology sort of caused me to go crazier. Jungian archetypes mixed in with a little pseudoscience and a lot of hysterical bullshit. Interesting stuff, but mostly self-aggrandizing crap. Hype and propaganda.

Of course that might have been the point. Or not. I'm not that person anymore, nor am I that person in the notes.  For those who ask, you saw them earlier. I've checked the cache on this blog. I've also change the password to try and keep redlight out.

I hope so at least. I want to try and disprove the theory that redlight and myself are the same entity. (Lord I hate Fight Club for making that a cliche...still a good movie though) Right now I sadly don't have any evidence. Well...nothing that disproves the theory at least. I only see him when I'm alone, and he doesn't interact with anyone else online, while I'm also active.

Episodes of DID and Time Loss are common experiences around...I dislike using the Entity's proper name for some reason still, but I don't want to return to /Construct/ as that way lies lunacy. I'll just use --- instead. Reduce him to an Abstract, although I want to look into the significance of redlight's He That Is title.

Anyway, I'm also experiencing incidents of uncontrollable coughing. Another common occurrence, but...I have a plan. Apparently, for a while, the Title system, and immersing myself into the identity of...well...whatever I was...was enough to protect me a little from the effects of --- presence and attention.

Also, memetic weapons work as a form of protection. The Fire Extinguisher worked too for a while. I have a new theory, looking over my notes.

Weapons cannot work. It's a classic trait of Monsters, blades breaking upon it's back, scales impervious, etc.

Memetic 'weapons,' the Operator Symbol, and the Fire Extinguisher worked. These are not weapons. These are Defensive Tools. Items that install a sense of safety, security, and protection.

I have an emergency first aid kit in my house. Inside it is one of those little unfold-able thermal blankets. During a coughing fit, accompanied by minor delusions (Voices, Whispers, small specks of light, etc.) I got it out and wrapped it around me. The effects subsided after two minutes and did not return.

This is probably a temporary item, as are all elements currently. However, I'm certain that similar items will have similar effects, possibly.

No sightings of either --- or redlight.
Have experienced an estimated time loss of 30 minutes.
I keep hearing voices, if it's redlight or ---, or my own voice when I was completely insane...I don't know.

It says I can't escape. I dream of an old man in an asylum, regaining his sanity only to be driven mad again and again. Watching as corpses pile up around him...impotent and helpless. Worse than useless. Leading people to their doom...and --- keeps me alive...because I'm it's greatest ally...

Ugh, have to stop. Regain composure...unable to delete this crap though. Nausea and coughing fits otherwise...damn it.

Keep working. It's my only option. It's my only fate.

Questions

Okay, ummm...who are you guys and how do you know me?

Who was that guy in the park? I mean I read a little up on this guy, but come on...it's a guy wearing a suit and pantyhose over his face exploiting this story. Right?

I'm trying to make sense of this stuff...especially the stuff that I apparently wrote myself when I was in the hospital after the car crash. It's all disjointed though. No one's organized enough, but it's the only connection I have.

Also, who the hell is this guy in the red hoodie that I keep seeing across the street from my bus stop? He's got that circle with the x on it on his hood, so is he involved?

Who was I?

Rob. Rob. Rob. You disappoint me.

It seems he just can't help himself.

Why couldn't he just have let things be?

Trouble is I can't exactly remove memories of a family member's passing...not without dealing with FAR too many people. That stupid cousin of his...

Then he sees Him by the playground across from his work (He That Is must feed, would you begrude a Lion watching his prey in the veldt?), and what does he do?

Approaches Him, which scares off the Kids, causes Him to slip back into the woods...and now he's calling the police and looking on the damn web about this.

I know you people will grab him back, so grateful to have one of your standard bearers back...

You have no idea how annoying it is that I'm forbidden to just remove him.

Fine. He wants back in? Let's go Robbie. I know EXACTLY what your fate is going to be...

Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...
Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...


I'll make you all BEG me to remove him.

Nausea

Let it never be said that I wasn't a generous man,


Hard to concentrate. Harder to write. I wake up on planes, or in the middle of meetings. My life is not my own anymore. A character in a story.


Can't access the blog anymore. I don't remember my password.


I had a college friend who was, still is, a writer. Little short stories, horror stories, heh. He says the old phrase 'My character took a life of its own' is a signature of a poor writer with a poorer imagination. Characters do what the author tells them to do, nothing more. 


Gah, I look at my writing. If it isn't nonsense that turns the Core Theory into a joke, it's faux philosophic babble. Sarte mostly.


I understand what I must be trying to figure out. The nature of the sickness, the insanity, the time skips. It has something to do with the imbuing of Him onto myself. Just as this suitcase at my feet has become MY suitcase while also being a Black Suitcase, a $29.99 suitcase, My Second Business Suitcase, The Suitcase I spilled coffee on that one time and now there's a stain there, and a Hartmann knock-off. 


It is all these things, but also none of them. It's a suitcase. Not even that, just some leather and metal really. 


Yet when I think of definitions of Myself, in these lucid periods, I only can think of 'Robert, a Victim of the Slenderman.' Any other sense of self just seems...alien to me. Thus, I am his to use like an object on a shelf. I have no other identity. It's what's happening to the others, what will happen to the next victims.


Look at M. What is he now? Is there anything other to his being than a Runner?


It's one of His subtle tricks. You stop being who you were, and slowly lose yourself to this thing. The Hallowed are proof really.


Robert (Sage) is no longer me. That's another person really. Unhinged, insane, driven mad by the fight, but I know that he doesn't suffer. I'll give myself over to that eventually. He's stronger anyway. However Robert (Sage) tried to do too much, burnt out, let himself drink his own kool-aid, and now...well...babble and insanity.


It almost worked.


I'm not giving up though. There's ways around this. Robert (Sage), for all his lunacy, is still holding Him back and gaining a following. The Core Theory has a shred of solid ground. 


I will keep on working on this until I am dead.


The Chain contingency plan is stupid, but it's the only thing I can come up with right now. Don't know if the file will be deleted by the office, or if the person who sees this will start it, or if someone breaks the chain down the line. Also it endangers others, something I promised I'd never do. 


I'm so tired. 


vs,r yo eoyj okB tep ud oy qieja yjrm rgwewa dyo;; giow


I thought it would be kind to put up the last bit of Robbie's little 'chain.' I hate cliffhangers, and just to show you how hard Rob here crashed. As always, the offer's open, just say 'please.'

Regards,

r

Stupid stuff

I don't know why Rob is bothering me this crap. I get an email from this guy I met like twice in my life, it has a password to this blog, instructions to post this, change the password, and then mail this scrambled stuff to some guy I sorta knew from College.

I know Rob, so I called him up about this. He doesn't know anything. Says that this blog got hit by some crazy fiction spammers...something like the whole 'I love bees' thing way back. He says to ignore it, probably a scam to get email passwords and such to spam porn ads or whatever, to just junk the whole thing.

So, I did.

Favor

Okay, Robbie told me to post this when I got pinged by his blog. Keeping out of this stuff. Too weird for me.

The problem is to find that point where a person starts to begin to...I don't have the right term for it. Hard to think. Don't know how long this lucid period will last, so need to make the most of it. It's a concept of one's place in the universe I suppose. I am who I am. I exist in this current time. I understand the world to this extent.


Maybe that's why He's so frightening. The Lovecraftian concept taken to a new height. Back then, the concept that humanity was not only alone in the universe, but insignificant as well, was terrifying and unsettling. That is why Lovecraft was so effective. Now that concept has been more...tolerated...by society. So it's lost it's sting.


Now there's Him. He can be anywhere, He is Unstoppable, and you end up losing your own spot in the universe...subjugated and sublimated by Him. You are not insignificant...you are just powerless. An eternal line of 'Opening Scene Victims' in a horror movie. That's frightening. That sense of powerlessness. The point of the Core Theory is to change that, or at least alter it.


My father and my uncle used to use chess to decide who had to muck out the stables (They grew up on a farm.) and my father would lose a lot. So he studied, and trained, and learned. Then he won one game, then another, and then a whole week.


The next week my uncle said 'Now we're going to play darts.'


Of course, that does me no good if He's the one dictating what game I play, and messing with my mind.


I have an idea though. Looking into Sartre. Specifically Nausea. Well...for the few hours of the day that I still have my mind. (Haven't noticed a pattern in the timing. Not yet, at least. Try to record that as well.)

Hello

Hi, my name's Sophie. I work for this call center for a medical company. I don't know who this guy was that worked at this computer but...he...look I turn it on and I see a file titled 'For You, Important.' In it is a link to this blog, and a word document with the username and password for this blog, instructions to change the password, and this thing below titled 'To Post' and then about thirty pages of that weird scrambled stuff you get when you try to run a graphics program on a text program.

Having all of this here is creepy. So, I'm posting it, and then deleting everything. Good bye.

You have to understand something important about concepts. They can't exist in a static state or a one time only occurrence, they have to be performed, tested, examined, redone, and then realigned. Always redone over and over again until it's refined to a level of razor sharpness. 


Stories only work if they're constantly retold.


A theory HAS to be restarted and retested. Other wise the data becomes stagnant and useless.


The only problem is that I know soon that I'm going to be worse than useless. Delusional, misleading, I may get people killed. Clever thing made me into a trap. I'm already starting to see things and babble. Time loss is common place now. Set this up, hope it works, continue the Core Theory research, and keep my mind clear of fantasy and drama.


Do NOT involve whomever drops the breadcrumbs. Corruption far too easy, that was my mistake, made gamble, won a little, made bigger gamble, won a bit more, made even bigger gamble, lost it, went all in to get it back, and now I'm not sane anymore. Risk is inevitable, but there's a difference between risk and being stupid. To any I have hurt, I am sorry.


Also, and I hope to God no one is still using them, drop all titles. They're traps now. Variable nature of the creature has adapted to them. 


Hopefully this will start the next round of studies of the Core Theory. It's unreliable, but then again so is my mind. Expect babble and delusions. If by some miracle I'm still alive, try and find me in whatever hole I'm in babbling to myself.


Given up on the idea of weaponry and fighting. It's too counterproductive.


Since I'm losing my mind, losing time, losing myself, I've decided to work on that. The new goal of the Core Theory, other than the Ultimate Neutralization of Him, is to develop a way that Runners can maintain their sanity.


Hopefully, I'll finish this avenue of research before I lose my own.