Tuesday, July 5


it started with the slender man. the tall, faceless businessman was terrifying in his own right, but then others appeared. they werent members of the slender mans race (if he had a race), but were similar in what they inspired: fear.

thats stupid. everything inspires fear. you can be afraid of anything. pencils. paper. beets. the kitchen sink. water. being eviscerated. fear is everywhere. fear is everything.

fear fear fear fear
far far far far
fa fa fa fa
a a a a

screaming theres screaming outside i can hear it but maybe its inside maybe im the one who is screaming why am i screaming are they here are they coming for me

i tried playing the game i tried writing something but the writers block was too much i couldnt think i couldnt write anything and the rules dont make sense and the game isnt a game it isnt a game at all oh god please help me

we made it up and it all came true anyway
every single word

welcome to
the fear mythos

Sunday, July 3

A List of Fears

A list of Fears. I need to make a list. I don't know why. I've already made them I know, but I need to list them again. Make a list and check it twice.

The Slender Man
Fear of strangers, fear of the unknown, fear of the woods, fear of tall men, fear of faceless figures peering into windows, of black tentacles ripping apart bodies.

The Archangel
Fear of the afterlife, of the invisible god, of religion and stark reality and nothing you ever do will ever matter and you will die alone and suffer forever and ever.

The Black Dog
Fear of being found, of your deepest secrets being let loose upon the world, of everything you ever wanted hidden away set free and all you can do is open the door and let the dog in.

The Blind Man
Fear of forgetting, of getting old, of waking up one day and not remembering who you are or how you got here or where here is or where the blood on your hands came from and the blood on the walls and the gun on the floor and the bodies at the table.

The Choir
Fear of what others think and say about you, because you know you are worthless, you are never good enough for anyone, always a disappointment to your parents and your friends and everything you ever did was crap so why not just end it all.

The Cold Boy
Fear of being cold, being cut off from those around, because why would they want to associate with an outcast, with someone as distant as you, as cold as you, so cold your heart has frozen.

The Convocation
Fear of being taken away, of being grabbed by hundreds of beaks and claws and being swept into the sky, into the wind, and the ground goes away and everything goes away and you are just a worm, a worm in the vastness of the sky.

The Dying Man
Fear of dying, of feeling that ache, that sickness in your stomach, that split in your mind that tells you "We are dying, our skin is sloughing off like siding, we are dying, let us in let us in let us in."

Fear of drowning, drowning in water, drowning in obsession, obsessing over everything, every neat little thing, everything in its place, a book over there, a CD over there, a glass of water right here and a tendril rising from the water and taking out everything that was you and putting in itself instead.

The Eye
Fear of judgment, of knowing that no matter where you go, how you hide, you will be found and judged for your sins, for your crimes, for everything bad you have ever done.

The Empty City
Fear of being lost, of wandering down empty streets and looking backward and not recognizing anything, of worrying and rushing from building to building, hoping to find shelter from the city that never stops, the city that's always changing, always different, always hungry.

The Manufactured Newborn
Fear of the future, of what the future may bring, of machines that crush and kill and stab and build more of themselves over and over again until they have replaced you, until they no longer need you.

The Nightlanders
Fear of the unseen, of the things in the dark, of the shadows that pass across your wall and you jump until you realize that it was nothing, it was a trick of the light and then you start to feel woozy and lightheaded and nothing is where you left it and you fall to the ground as your mind is reordered to their liking.

The Plague Doctor
Fear of disease, of contagiousness, of watching your skin break with boils and pus, of becoming a walking infection that feels only pain and can only scream in agony.

The Quiet
Fear of nothingness, of oblivion, of complete and utter void.

The Rake
Fear of brutality, of waking in the night with whispers in your ears and knowing that it was only by its whim that you are alive, until the moment when it runs its claws across your throat and the thin red line starts bleeding.

The Wooden Girl
Fear of being a puppet, of being controlled, of being a toy (remembering perhaps some of the things that you did to your toys when you were a kid) and knowing that all of your actions are hers, everything you do is because of her, and without her you would not move a muscle.

Friday, July 1

Yesterday Upon the Stair

I met a man who wasn't there.

He wore a dark brown coat and a fedora, even in the blazing sun. He said his name was Dalmas and that I had created him. He said that I wasn't real. Not real like them. That I was just a shadow of a thought. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it and then told me to play the goddamn game.

He was playing the game, too, he said. He was playing the game because I made him play it. And now I was playing it.

How can I play without rules, I asked him.

There are rules, he said. But they are unheard and invisible and ineffable. They cannot be understood or explained. But rules are rules, he said. And we have to play by them.

And then he slowly faded, like words written in disappearing ink.

Monday, June 27

Little Slices of Death

I think that's what Edgar Allen Poe called sleep. The dark doorway of dreams. I'm getting less and less of it these days. I know why, you know why.

It's Isaac's fault. Why did he show me them? How did he show me them? I was blissfully unaware. Ignorance was bliss for me.

And now I can't find him. I've looked in the library each day, in the same room, but he's never there. He's gone.

Disappeared like a dream.

Sunday, June 26


I get these fucking headaches. They just...don't go away for a while. I hope it's not the doctor. He always scared me the most after the Slender Man.

Fuck. What am I going to do?

Saturday, June 25

Nothing Known

Can't concentrate. Every time I walk down the street, I think I see them. Birds in the sky. Dog in a yard. Man with sunglasses.

I don't want to leave my apartment. I don't. But I have to. Have to go to work. Dont be afraid no fear please no fear

Thursday, June 23

No Ledge

What do you do? When you know? When you know the world is a lie?