No... it's nt fucking possible. I don't kow how, or why, but it's just not fucking happening. The Journal is Sheila's. I don't know how, but somebody mutilated her diary and sent it to me. What the fuck is going on?

Opening the box

Hey guys. I did it. I opened the box. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty freaked out. From the way my boss was freaking out, I was expecting a severed head or something, but no. It was two things: A key, which wasn't that special, since I have no idea what it goes to, doesn't work any of the locks in my house. And, far more interestingly, a book, which was the source of the burning smell. The thing was torched. It's got holes in it, and half the pages are indecipherable. I just kinda skimmed through it, and from what I can tell at one point, it was the chronicle of a person who slowly went insane. Like, batshit, seeing things screaming at the wall crazy. I'm gonna start reading it tonight, and I'll let you know if anything catches my eyes. So far all I've seen are just a few doodles and random Stream Of Consciousness writing. Anyway, I'm off TTYL guys

Special Delivery.

Hey guys, It's me again. I haven't posted in a few days because, well, nothing happened till today. I went back into work for the first time today. Didn't get much work done though. I walked in, and immediately, I knew something was off. Normally when I walk into the shop, I'm greeted by either a snide comment from my buddy Jake, or a berating from my boss. Today, neither were forthcoming. Jake wasn't even there, and my boss... well, my boss looked like hell. He looked like Alex that day I woke him up about the furniture: Unshaven, Wild-eyed, and twitchy. The dude looked like he was coming of a week-long coke binge, which is saying something for a guy who normally combs his eyebrows (Trust me, I've seen it.) He was so bad off, he barely even acknowledged me when I asked what was wrong. It was only when I asked about the things that I'd gotten in the mail that he seemed to come to life. His eyes bugged out, and he started freaking the fuck out, screaming at me to take it, and get out of his store, before he fired me. It was weird, like he didn't even recognize me... he was just screaming about not letting me bring "him" back here. Finally, I just gave up, went back to the back where the package was just sitting on a shelf, grabbed it, and ditched.

That was twenty minutes ago. I'm in my room right now typing this. The package is sitting next to me on my bed. I haven't opened it yet. Honestly, after the way Dale (My boss) Freaked out, I'm kinda nervous about it. I have noticed two odd things about it though: One, it looks like it was once wet. Like, soaked through. It's all wrinkly and swollen like something that was rinsed and dried off. Also, and this one's really weird, it smells like fire. Like there's something in there that was burned. I have no idea what to make of it. I'll probably open it sometime this week. Till then... I have no idea.

Saying goodbye

Hey gang, it's me again. I went to see the grave today. That nasty bout of whatever it was is gone, though I still feel a tad wobbly. But that's not the point. The point was, I finally mader it down to say goodbye to my ex-GF. Alex was with me. It was hard for both of us.
Perhaps I should explain a bit... Sheila and Alex had been known each other since before Time. Their parents had gone to school together, and they lived right next door to each other. They'd been best friends from birth. They even went out for a few months in High School, although Alex has assured me quite often that they broke it off, since apparently they found it a tad odd. Then, when I moved up here from Texas 2 years ago, and I found Alex through an ad on Craigslist, I met Sheila. Needless to say, we hit it off. About two weeks after we first met, she and I started seeing each other.

The months I had with her were some of the best of my life. I'd never been so happy. So, naturally, it was doomed to fail. She broke up with me in December, and I hadn't heard from her till that fateful day a few weeks ago.

It's just... really sad I guess. She was so full of life. I know that that's something everybody says when a loved one dies, but she really was. She never seemed upset, she always had a smile on her face. She was so adventurous, which absolutely baffled my parents, seeing as I perferred to stay home and sleep. It's just hard to believe she's really gone...

 Anyway, We went to the grave. It was a nice spot, I guess. On top of a hill, overlooking the rest of the cemetary. Right under this big oak tree that looks about 6 million years old. The grave stone was simple. Just a plaque reading Here lies Sheila Ruth Daniels, Sister, Daughter, Friend. 1991-2011.

I cried. Yeah, I know, you were waiting to hear it. I cried there, standing over the the remains of the woman I had once loved. I sobbed like a baby. Alex cried too, although I think for him, it held more meaning then me. Sometimes, I think he loved her more than I ever could have. He certainly was shaken up. As we were walking back to the car, he started screaming at this party of mourners a few yards away, saying "Why, why did you take her? She never did anything? Why?" I had to get him out of there in a hurry, before someone called the cops. He's been acting really weird since she died. Not sleeping, barely eating, constantly looking out the window, like he expects someone to be down on the street watching him. I feel bad for the guy. Most days, he just sits in his room and never comes out. He even had a door with a lock installed. One of those big expensive heavy duty locks. I think I might have to take him to a shrink. I'm pretty sure this isn't part of the grieving process...

Here there be lulz

I know I said I wasn't gonna post till I felt better, but I found this, and it made me lol. THese guys have the right idea





Still sick, though now I know for sure that I have people aware of my existance:D I love cheap self-validation.

Feeling better.

For those of you who read my last post (Which I now know at least one did, whattsup Lucien?) I missed Sheila's funeral. I know, I know, it's basically all I've been talking about the past week, but shit came up. Namely, everything in my stomach. That's right I got so fucking sick. I was puking up stuff I don't even remember eating, my head felt like the bass to Deadmau5 song, and my nose kept spouting blood at random times. SO, despite my protests, Alex tucked me in bed, doped me up on Benadryl and Tylenol, and left for the cemetary. Meanwhile, I stayed home and tried not to die, which was much harder than it sounds. I mostly spent the day sleeping. Speaking of which, never sleep shen you're on  that many drugs. You get some really freakyass dreams. Like, for instance, I kept having one where I'm being pulled underwater by my legs, and I keep trying to scream, but I can't. Next thing I know I'm waking up, and my nose is bleeding. Just wierd shit. I'm still not feeling much better, but I'm well enough to type something up here, to prove to the world that I haven;t died. Yet.

In other news, I got a call from work today. It was my boss, da Fuhrer. He was getting on to me about having shit delivered to work. Said that if I wanted my pornos, then I could get em at my place like everyone else, instead of at work where everyone can see them. I honestly have no idea what he's talking about, and I really didn't get much of a chance to ask. So I've got something to look forward to when I get back. When that is who knows.

I've decided something as well. The minute I'm back on my feet, I'm going with Alex down to see Sheila's grave. The three of us go way back, and even though things ended the way they did, We still had a lot between us. It just wouldn't be right not to say goodbye for the last time. I guess then I could finally get on to that whole "redemption" thing I made this blog for.

Oh hey, gotta go, Alex just made me some soup, so I'm gonna go see if this one stays down better then the las 5. I'll try and post something after I'm feeling better. Night guys.

So... sick

I'm gonna keep this short, cause I can feel another barf coming on. I missed the funeral, I'm sick as dog, life sucks. Good day to you.