Thursday, June 27, 2013

The Morning After

First, I’d just like to say that as of this morning I feel exceptionally better. My mind is rather clear, and I’ve managed to keep plenty of the stress and anxiety away. Last night I took two Nyquil pills and let myself pass out on the sofa. While the Nyquil gave me some weird dreams, it allowed me the best sleep I’ve had in a while. Praise Vicks!

Now, I’d like to talk about last night.

The figure that was standing outside my house, as weird as he may have been, I don’t believe it was Smiles. This guy just didn’t match the appearance, or at least I don’t think he did. One of Smiles’ many striking features is His ‘oh-so-fabulous’ Ziggy Stardust hair. The figure looked like he was wearing a hood, or something of the like. I wasn’t able to make it out too clearly but it also looked like he was wearing something over his face, something I know Smiles’ doesn’t do. I’m fairly certain He’d rather shave His head than cover His grin.

For the time being I’m going to assume Smiles’ and the figure are connected in some manner. Hey, I could be wrong! It’s entirely possible that whoever was standing on my street as just another neighborhood punk who felt like creeping me out. Personally, though, I will assume a connection and take some more caution around here.

In other news, I’m leaving for Florida today! Yeah, I know… Completely brought that up out of the blue with no previous mention whatsoever! A few months ago, an old friend asked me if I was interested in coming down for a week. I know for a fact that he mainly wants me to help him move, but he threw Disney and Universal into the deal so I won’t complain. My only regret is not finding the motivation to finish hooking up the security cameras outside my house. It would have provided some comfort to have those while I’m away. Too late now, my bad!

The most likely outcome of this upcoming week will probably be a significant lack of posts until I return. We’ll see what happens!

That being said, I should finish up what I was saying about last night.

Which is absolutely nothing!

Alright, see you in a week.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Alright. I just woke up from my extended nap, but at least I felt exceptionally better upon opening my eyes.

The keyword in that sentence is felt.

I was feeling fine, rejuvenated even. I got up from my bed, left my room, walked downstairs, and into the office. I sat down at the very same seat I am currently sitting in, did a little swivel, and brought my fingers to the keyboard.

Of course, I have the worst habit in the world of letting my eyes flick in all directions every few seconds. So, of course, when my eyes brushed over a faint shadow outside the window I suddenly came to a halt. Now, mind you, it was dark. It still is dark. I would naturally attempt to pass it off as the exterior darkness messing with my already paranoid state of mind, everyone would. However, the street outside my house is consistently illuminated by the front porch lights of the house across from mine. Oh, and some blue-ish light from a room I can only assume to be their laundry room.

(Note: Why the FUCK don’t they ever turn those lights off? Their electricity bills must be ridiculous!)

The tipping point that caused me to do a double take was the fact that, in both forms, the light created a perfect human silhouette. So, of course, I looked.

I really, really, really regret that action. Why? Because I feel much more shitty than I did when I was running on low sleep.

I shared a very Weird Al-esque ‘Then he looked at me, and then I looked at him.’ moment with the figure on my street, not letting my eyes depart. You know how in most horror movies, the hero/heroine looks at the dark figure across the street for several seconds before looking away only briefly? Then when they look back, the figure mysteriously vanished? Yeah, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I refused to give him the satisfaction of being creepy.

I think he understood this, either that or he just didn’t give a shit, because after a few seconds he raised his right arm, waved briefly, turned, and walked out of the light.

How do I know the figure was male, you wonder? Well, I can’t really say with full certainty. However, I’m basing my judgments off the fact that the figure had a pretty masculine frame. Plus, his overall demeanor and the way he ‘walked’ just seem pretty male too me. Then again, I’m a paranoid and crazy asshole so I can’t say much.

I just remembered that I was supposed to talk more about the flowers and stuff in this post. Honestly, though, I don’t know what else there is to say. They contain a message that I’ve already figured out, I know what all of this is an omen for, and I’ve already shit my pants like twice. What else? I know I’m probably skipping over something, but I have a pounding headache and have dealt with more heebie-jeebies in a single day than I’ve had in over a year.

I don’t think I’ll bother sleeping tonight, I’m not exactly tired right now. Although, I really should be trying to preserve as much sanity as I can despite the past two days. I might just take some Nyquil and let it knock me out. At least then I’d get a decent night’s rest around here.

The downside to that, though, is that I won’t be able to wake up if He breaks in. I really don’t feel like dying, actually. I know a lot of people in my position who would want nothing more than to just off themselves already, but I don’t.

Something must be wrong with me.

I just took a break to rest my head. Maybe I am a bit tired. I really shouldn’t be letting all of this get to me. I’m pretty sure I promised myself to never let myself get overly paranoid, or let my head become clouded for that matter. I’ll update tomorrow morning, hopefully with a clear head and a better grip on my emotional stability.

Sounds like a plan.

The Flowers

After getting a few decent hours of sleep, I think I’ll be relaxed enough to talk more about yesterday. Let’s start with the pinnacle of last night’s entertainment, shall we?

The bouquet of flowers.

Other than what it means, there’s nothing special about these flowers in the slightest. I suppose most people would consider the arrangement special, but I just don’t see it as anything to be surprised or perplexed by. There are four different flowers in the arrangement, each of which are types you don’t usually see in a typical bouquet. The four types of flowers that appear in the arrangement are Marigolds, Celandines, Sweetbriars, and White Clovers. Not necessarily in that order, but then again I don’t really care about listing this kind of thing in the proper order.

Anyway, after doing a little research on the language of flowers I found the meaning for each. This is the part where I put things in the proper order (Or at least what I consider the proper order).

  • White Clovers - I promise
  • Celandines - Joys to come
  • Sweetbriars - Simplicity
  • Marigolds - Pain and suffering

A most delightful message, don’t you agree?  I’m simply flattered by the consideration that went into this arrangement. Why, I’m practically blushing!

Ech, I don’t do sarcasm well. I digress. At this point I’d assume most of you would be asking yourselves, ‘But Drayton, what does the language of flowers have anything to do with a seemingly normal bouquet of flowers? What are you possibly trying to get at here?’ but I figure that those of you who don’t find me completely crazy and are still reading this blog must be aware of what I’m experiencing. If you don’t, and are just reading this for shits and giggles, allow me to enlighten you in a segment I’d like to call Storytime with Drayton!

Alright Boys and Girls, are you ready? Are you sitting comfortable in your seats, wrapped in your cozy blankets? Fantastic! Let’s begin:

Remember those Phobic Entities I spoke of last night? Well that’s exactly what we’re dealing with here! Specifically, we are dealing with an entity by the name of ‘The Smiling Man.’ This delightful motherfucker represents the fear of stalkers and serial killers, a most delightful combination. One of the many hobbies He likes to entangle Himself in is the act of sending his victims a bouquet of arranged flowers, often using the Language of Flowers to send a message. He has a preference of burning, gouging out, or otherwise damaging his victims’ eyes. Delightful, right?

Now you may ask yourself, why is he called the Smiling Man? Well, simply put… It’s because he smiles, you fucking idiot. It’s an unnatural smile, though. A smile that is just a little too big for his face, if you know what I’m saying. Think Jim Carey from How the Grinch Stole Christmas, that smile he does. Like that, only just a bit wider.

That’s enough storytime for now. Thinking about it, that segment got old really fast. Don’t judge me, I’m running on low sleep and fear.

Where was I?

Fuck, I’m getting forgetful. I have to really try to stay relaxed, keep my head clear and all that. One sec, let me scroll through this post again.

Right, Smiles McGee and the flowers.

Sorry, I fell asleep there for a second. Why am I apologizing, this is a blog post that you’re reading progressively without any gaps. Jesus Christ, this really is a testament of my sanity.

Thinking about it, maybe I should get a little extra sleep. Maybe that’ll clear my head a bit more and I’ll be able to coherently finish this story.

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

An Introduction

In light of recent events, I’ve decided to start documenting my life on a blog. I’m doing this, both in the name of archiving everything for reference, and to preserve my own sanity.

Why a blog and not a journal/personal document, you ask? Well, if I’m going to spiral into madness while my life turns to shit, you should have the common fucking decency to read about it and feel sorry for me. Although I’d completely understand if you felt no sympathy for me whatsoever, I’m kind of an asshole.

Anyway, I’m bad at introductions so I’ll make this short and simple. My name is Drayton. Drayton is my surname and, no, I will not tell you the rest. I go by the username QuirkedCuriosity on most websites and social platforms. Knowing this you may call me Quirked, Quirk, or just Drayton. I really have no preference. However if you call me anything else without my explicit permission, I’ll call you out on it. In which case I will use plenty of profanity and other terms I’ll probably invent right on the spot.

Asshole, remember?

Introductions aside, let me talk about my day! I woke up this morning with my room looking like a complete mess, so nothing unusual there. After doing absolutely nothing aside from just lying completely still for an hour and a half, I found the energy to get out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. I prepared myself a lovely meal composed of a half-burnt egg that I somehow managed to mutate into a breakfast sandwich with the assistance of old cheese, charred bacon, and a stale bagel.

Needless to say, I don’t know how to cook. (Note to self: buy more Frosted Flakes)

Following my morning meal, I spent the next thirty minutes on the Porcelain Throne. After that I watched three hours-worth of television shows on Netflix, and then took a soothing cold shower. It would be pointless to give you the exact times at which I did all of these things, as that would make me more pathetic than I am comfortable displaying.

I dried myself off, put on the same clothes I’ve worn for the past two days, and sat down at my computer. Now, one thing you should know about me is that I love my computer. If it were sentient I’d highly consider marrying it, no joke. This computer has gotten me through situations thick and thin, with only some minor damages over the years. I take good care of her, and she does the same for me. We’re a team. I’ll touch more on my computer and what we’ve done together another time, I’m not looking to make this too long.

The abridged version for this part goes a little something like this: I browsed the internet for the next nine or so hours. No, I will not disclose my history. Comfort levels, remember? I will say that a good three fourths of browsing was spent on research.

I know a lot of things, okay?

Not normal things, or at least things people consider ‘normal’ these days. None of that. Well, okay, I do know a lot of that kind of stuff too but that’s not what I’m trying to get at.

Supernatural, paranormal, other-worldly stuff, yadda-yadda-yadda; That’s the kind of stuff I’m talking about. I know a lot of you will think I’m crazy. Hell, I’d think I’m crazy too. All I can do is assure you that I’m not and get on with this post.

For the past four years I’ve been dealing with some nasty shit. Luckily I managed to get out about a year and a half ago, but not entirely. Sometimes I’ll get some weird e-mails, or the occasional desire to briefly help out others who are in the position I used to be in, but past that nothing. I haven’t had any encounters since I got out, which I’ve thanked my lucky stars for every day I wake up.

Encounters, you ask yourself? What encounters, Quirk?

I guess the best thing I can currently describe Them as without sounding too silly would be Phobic Entities. 
Beings that exist outside of natural law, and are essentially the worst things in the entirety of creation. There are several of these bastards, and I’ve dealt with each pretty personally. Again, I’ll spare you the details for now and get to the point of this first entry before I head off to sleep.

I got off my computer around the time the sun was starting to set. It was at this point I began the daily routine of doing nothing but finding excuses to entertain myself until I was tired. There’s a point I get bored of browsing the Internet, okay?

I was playing a mean game of Solo-Scrabble when my doorbell rang.

A visitor? Oh boy!

I opened my door and, of course, no one was standing there. I live in that part of town where all the neighborhood kids are obnoxious and ding-dong-ditch your house on a bi-weekly basis. I was about to close the door and deadbolt it, but of course my eyes had to wander downwards before doing such.

It was sitting there, right on my doormat. A single object that just filled me with anger and fear, so much so that I almost screamed and slammed my door shut.

It was bouquet of flowers.