bliumchik: (quantum)
Today was a good day for the nervous system! Low pain levels, a few spots of numbness but Doc Arkady warned for that - I'll give him a buzz if it's worse tomorrow, but it shouldn't be doing anything horrible. Not so much luck on the skeletal front, no less than seven joints came loose and had to be popped back into place - by number four my dad was grimacing harder than I was! It does look worse than it feels, I'm told 65% of a general population sample will usually experience nausea at the sight of a musculomechanical connection point. No problem with one or the other, or even the diagrams, usually. Only the juxtaposition in the flesh, so to speak.

Of course that can't be a problem for me.

I found some more hair and peelings on my pillow this morning - it looks like the entire right side is rejecting the skin grafts... or rather the skin's rejected me, and honestly I'd feel lonely too if I was half a scalp with steel where my bone foundation ought to be. I suppose I ought to get rid of the other side's worth, too, but on the other hand a single pigtail might look nice. Sort of gives a softer touch. Not that anyone's touching it, for all that matters. CallMeEvelyn keeps telling me to write down all my, you know, feelings, along with the physical crap, but I say it's only a matter of time before they replace those with motor oil as well, and what's the point. But fine: ventures outside today - one (milk went bad early. Who needs the calcium anyway, am I right?) Recoils - nine and a half (and I'm being generous, but she checked herself and smiled, so fuck it). Outright hate-speech: three. Flirting and/or plain comeons: nil, again. What the hell did the goddamn shrink bother warning me about mech-perverts for if none of them hang around here, that's what I want to know. Oh, and the fucking protestors are back, because some fucker insisted on full fucking media disclosure and letting David fucking Koschie interview the fucking Cute Ones, isn't that right, DaveAndAngela? FUCK YOU. I said boo to one of them, he nearly fainted. Mankind For Man indeed, more like Mankind For Fucking Wusses, right?

Anyway, how're y'all doing out there? Did someone get out to John's place and rescue him from the Dullest Hospice Worker In Existence? I know the guy can't walk or talk but when she's around, who'd wanna? Also Fi!! You never posted about Cute Comic Book Store Guy!! Cough it up, dammit, some of us are living vicariously here!
bliumchik: (quantum)
So yesterday was proof positive that none of you read the links I post.

Rabbit Hole Day. I missed it last year for reasons of forgetfulness, but this year I managed to kick it off in true creepy style. Aussie participants have to make a splash because the twenty-seventh hits us before anyone else. 'cept the New Zealanders. *waves*

Um, so in sum: still not crazy. Also not eaten by slimy things. Next year you guys should participate, twill be much more fun :P
bliumchik: (Default)
It's not quiet outside anymore. It's buzzing. It's not like cicadas or crickets, it's not like a chainsaw or a vibrating mobile... it's this sort of shaky humming sound, like laboured, metallic breathing. The thing upstairs is getting louder too. Something's dripping. I think I know what it wants.

Oh god, I think I know it.
bliumchik: (Default)
I'm pretty sure it's got all of upstairs now. The salt obviously, well, didn't work. Maybe I should get out of the house, but it's getting sort of dark and I just realised the birds have been quiet all day. That isn't normal. Actually, now that I think about it, I can't hear anything from outside the house. And the more I stare out the windows the more I get the feeling that I'm looking at... a security camera loop, or. Something. It's just weird. Anything I'm not looking at directly is sort of fuzzy.

the whispering is making my head hurt.

Is anyone. Nobody's commenting. Nobody's posting. Is it the world that's gone away or is it me?
bliumchik: (Default)
Okay it's in the hallway. There is no way this can be a good thing. Shit shit shit what the hell. Definitely coming down from the attic, the ceiling's taken on this weird rubbery texture and the stuff is kind of... kind of seeping through it eugh.

I can't go back up there. It's looking at me. The fucker doesn't even have eyes, but I know it can see me. It's whispering down the stairs. I don't know what it's saying.

I mean, I kind of feel like I could know what it's saying if I tried hard enough but no way in hell.

Is anyone else getting weird shit...? This is really. This is not good.
bliumchik: (Default)
I think it's coming in through the attic. Okay this sounds crazy but there is a vent going from my attic to the main bathroom and it is not supposed to do that. And. There's all this. Melty stuff. Oh my god what the hell.

If there are tentacles I'm moving to Alice Springs.

ETA: Okay there aren't any tentacles. And I'm less freaked out now that there's an actual tangible sort of thing to accompany the vague feeling of, of, I don't know, presence.

But I am not going into that bathroom for hell or high water. God. I thought the spiders coming through the vent every winter were bad. Ugh. This is just wrong.

I um. I don't know what to do, something tells me the CSIRO is not who I'm gonna call here. So I sort of. Spilled a shitload of salt in the doorway. Just in case. Hey, that reminds me, I should start watching Supernatural again. Anyway I'm just. I'm just gonna pretend it's backed up plumbing or something and try not to think about it.
bliumchik: (Default)
People have this thing, I know, where we're conditioned to see people everywhere - it's an old survival skill. It's called pareidolia when you overextend, you know, start anthropomorphising at random, virgin mary on toast la la la but.

But I swear to god there is something in my house.

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