There is a detective who said something. He said to "make the bastard work for his food". I don't know if he eats us or not, but I agree
Don't give up. Get even. Consider every possible theory. If not Tulpa, then get a dagger of cold, hard iron and stab him in the face. If not a fairy, pray for strength and attack. If not a demon or minor god, try fire. Try poison. Try fish (they apparently piss him the hell off, so there may be something there)
Just keep trying. Don't give up hope, and assume that he CAN be defeated. Even if he can't, well, you kept him distracted, did you not? And making him waste time is still a victory, even if small
I'm currently sitting in a footpath I intend to try in vain to sleep in tonight, my clothes encrusted with filth, having been driven away from everything I hold dear by an entity so alien, so monstrous, that I can't even understand the extent to which there is no hope. And there is no hope. Hundreds, hundreds of people, all over the world, and not one can tell me what He is. Not one can give me anything other than more questions.
So sure, I could throw everything under the sun at Him. I've got the knives. Fuck, I could make a youtube series, like "Will it blend?"
"Will it kill the fucking Slender Man? Today, five eggs!"
The fact is, there's nothing. There's nowhere to start. I can't risk getting close enough to attack Him. I can't risk doing anything other than running in the opposite direction, or He. Will. Kill. Me. He'll tear me apart. What will optimism have done for me then? Huh? What use is a sunny fucking disposition when I'm being torn apart?
Christ, I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't...I can't do anything, not without Him being there, ready for me.
And that's the tragedy of it. I'm already dead. We all are. We're already done. We're just not cold yet.
I'm sorry, but if you're not even willing to try then you might as well throw yourself off a bridge. Don't hang off the edge of your worry and discontent, living a half life dedicated solely to gathering up our validations while rejecting our attempts to help you.
You don't know if she's dead. Only that she's missing, and hasn't been found. You want a goal? A reason to keep going?
Find her.
Or hurry up and kill yourself so that the rest of us can move on and figure out how to defeat Him. You are quickly becoming useless baggage.
Find her? And here I was thinking the solution was to start a haberdasher's. You genuinely think I've not been trying to? But I don't even know where to start!
Don't feel hopeless. That means he's winning
ReplyDeleteThere is a detective who said something. He said to "make the bastard work for his food". I don't know if he eats us or not, but I agree
Don't give up. Get even. Consider every possible theory. If not Tulpa, then get a dagger of cold, hard iron and stab him in the face. If not a fairy, pray for strength and attack. If not a demon or minor god, try fire. Try poison. Try fish (they apparently piss him the hell off, so there may be something there)
Just keep trying. Don't give up hope, and assume that he CAN be defeated. Even if he can't, well, you kept him distracted, did you not? And making him waste time is still a victory, even if small
You don't get it, do you?
ReplyDeleteI'm currently sitting in a footpath I intend to try in vain to sleep in tonight, my clothes encrusted with filth, having been driven away from everything I hold dear by an entity so alien, so monstrous, that I can't even understand the extent to which there is no hope. And there is no hope. Hundreds, hundreds of people, all over the world, and not one can tell me what He is. Not one can give me anything other than more questions.
So sure, I could throw everything under the sun at Him. I've got the knives. Fuck, I could make a youtube series, like "Will it blend?"
"Will it kill the fucking Slender Man? Today, five eggs!"
The fact is, there's nothing. There's nowhere to start. I can't risk getting close enough to attack Him. I can't risk doing anything other than running in the opposite direction, or He. Will. Kill. Me. He'll tear me apart. What will optimism have done for me then? Huh? What use is a sunny fucking disposition when I'm being torn apart?
Christ, I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't...I can't do anything, not without Him being there, ready for me.
And that's the tragedy of it. I'm already dead. We all are. We're already done. We're just not cold yet.
I'm sorry, but if you're not even willing to try then you might as well throw yourself off a bridge. Don't hang off the edge of your worry and discontent, living a half life dedicated solely to gathering up our validations while rejecting our attempts to help you.
ReplyDeleteYou don't know if she's dead. Only that she's missing, and hasn't been found. You want a goal? A reason to keep going?
Find her.
Or hurry up and kill yourself so that the rest of us can move on and figure out how to defeat Him. You are quickly becoming useless baggage.
Find her? And here I was thinking the solution was to start a haberdasher's. You genuinely think I've not been trying to? But I don't even know where to start!
ReplyDelete