Candy-Coated-Blue Gray

That's the exact color of paint that I now have spotted all over my skin and clothes.  But I have my window opened and I think the air and sunlight is doing me wonders.

I kinda lied to my mom this morning, saying that I was too sick to go to school.  I don't pull this often, so she let me get away with it.  I think she's just been generally worried about me lately.  I couldn't keep my ever growing despair completely from her notice.  But she didn't press me beyond what I'm comfortable with, after all, she's used to dealing with me being like this.  I've never been the happiest kid.

I'm getting off topic.  I lied to her about being sick so that when she went to work today I could have some time alone in my room with the fresh new can of paint I have acquired!  It was just calling out to be painted with.  Honestly, I've always been kind of an art geek.  I love drawing and painting, and I always have, and that's why there were so many materials around my room to mark up my walls with.  But I just couldn't bear to get rid of them.  It's been a while since I painted consciously.

My walls are about halfway covered, I tell you, it's a very relaxing feeling seeing all those words disappear behind fresh blue paint.  As if they never even existed.  Maybe they never will again.  Maybe it's just a state of mind thing.  And my state of mind has never been clearer.

I feel like myself.

Oh crap, I got paint on my laptop.  That's what I get for breaking to type up a post without washing my hands.  The smell of paint and trees is everywhere.  It's beautiful.  Better get back to work.  Catch you guys later!

Ash Gray

I doubt anyone noticed, or cared, but I haven't been on here in a few days. Probably Malcolm was the only one who realized since we email far more often than I post here. I have been rather laid up for all of yesterday and some of today. I think I'm better now, though.


It started with another one of those dreams.


I was standing in darkness, alone and empty. It was nice though, peaceful. Like how I imagine dying will feel once this is all finally over. But I couldn't see even darker shapes moving through the darkness, and then something weirdly slimy was stroking down my arms. From the experience of other dreams like this I suppose it was those tentacles again. And there were voices all around, the screechy laughing from last time, but also soothing tones and whispered ones. It was hard to tell what they were saying, but I knew that they were good things even though the voices that said them scared me.


Then all of a sudden I burst into flame. A huge, raging bonfire all around me and its light beat back the shadows. They recoiled, their sweet words becoming hisses and screams. I could see the darkness better now than when I had been encased by it, and I looked out at it with interest. It seemed so small now, pushed back by my fiery shield.


And now the fire started whispering, and it only had one voice. About how it would protect me and love me. I almost believed it until something drove me to look down at myself. Even though I felt no heat from the fire around me, my body was burning and bubbling, melting off my bones. As I dissolved into a puddle I screamed for the cooling shadows to come back to me, but they couldn't penetrate the fire. The fire that saved me only to kill me.


I woke up sweating to find the most extensive of my wall decorations yet. It must have taken hours. I, or my body, had gathered together pieces of paper and burned them. Their ashes lay scattered about on the floor, but mostly I saw them finger painted on to my wall in the shape of a giant heart.


And Malcolm, I felt him right there, on the edge of my brain. I don't know how I knew but I felt him right there, about to take over. Everyone else who reads this, I'll explain soon, I just don't feel mentally up to it right now. So I stared at the ashen heart and I felt him growing like fire and then a huge black wave washed over me. Y'know, metaphorically. But I knew it was from Him.


The wave pushed the fire back deep down into where it came from and at the same time hit me with the strongest bout of slendersickness I have ever had. I was lucky I made it to the bathroom before I started vomiting uncontrollably. I was nauseous and had a splitting headache and I spent almost all of yesterday laid out on the bathroom floor, which is not how I like spending my weekends. At least my mom didn't send me to school today.

But the fire was gone. It was strange, almost purposeful. Like the sickness was sent to keep him from coming back. That's silly, though, right? I mean, why would he care? He wouldn't care that much about me.  

I hope my paint comes soon.  Or I'll run out of wall space and who knows where I'll draw next?

Lonely Gray

I've never really been very popular.  I doubt that comes as any kind of shock to you guys.  I had friends when I was really little, but then I showed myself as the freak I am and everything kind of spiraled downhill.  I guess that parents were a little scared to let their kids spend time with me.  And the kids had an easy enough time ganging up against me.  Kids are good at that.  I don't blame them, I'm not exactly fun to be around and it's not worth the danger.

I figure I have gotten as used to loneliness as possible, but being lonely isn't something you can just get used to.  It hurts like muscle cramps in the bottom of your stomach.  I mean, compared to the Slender headaches I've been getting recently, it's not that bad.  More dull ache, less stabbing pain.  If I don't spend time in public places, sometimes I can pretend that I'm only alone because no one's around and not because no one would hang out with me anyway.

But that's all okay.  I'm fine with that.  I've accepted that as my way of life.

This post is for different reasons.  It's about happier things.  I know, it's unexpected to see happy things on this blog.  But I am happy.

I made a friend!  Or at least, a pen pal.  A guy who responds to emails if I send them.  Usually.  It's Malcolm from Rain or Snow Services!  He and his coworkers agreed to my request for a can of paint in order to paint over my increasingly extravagant sleep drawings.  So that should be coming up soon, but meanwhile Malcolm and I talked for a bit and he's really super nice.  This is the first time in a long time that I've had real social interaction with someone who isn't my mom.  And it's nice to be able to talk with him about this Slender stuff without worrying about ruining his life.

Apparently, though, there's someone else who loves me.  Recently more and more of my unconscious doodles have been rather....personal.  

My Dearest Gray 
or
I love you Gray
or
Gray, let me protect you from the world

and just a few minutes ago when I dozed off in the middle of writing this post,

You can't trust that so-called friend.  He doesn't love you like I do.

It's taking a lot of effort not to panic.  Malcolm said he'd help me figure out what was going on.  I trust Malcolm.

Unconsciously Gray

The drawing situation is getting worse. I close my eyes for a bit and when I open them again (what I think is seconds later) I've doodled all over my skin, my notebooks, my bedroom walls. Operator symbols, crude drawings, words sometimes. Usually about darkness, but sometimes about fire. I even snapped out of a nap yesterday to find myself gouging something into my desk with my pencil. I woke up too soon to try and figure out what it was going to say.


It started with “let m”. I have some pretty good assumptions of what it was the beginning of, but I'm trying not to think about it. The less I remember how screwed up I am the less scared I am. But that's basically a lost cause at this point. I'm both too screwed up and too scared.


I should start being less obvious about it, though. The last thing I want is for any of this to reach my mom. If she saw my graffiti covered room she'd send me back to the Hospital. Or she'd start trying to understand me. She's big hearted like that. And the last thing I'd want to do is infect her. She heard the details of what happened to Graham from the police report, I couldn't keep her from that, but she has no idea what caused it. And if I get to choose she never will.


So I should probably figure out how to sneak some paint in to my room to cover up the most obvious things. And I should start trying to get control over myself while I'm asleep. I don't even know where to start on that project, but it's an important one. I don't want to do anything serious while I'm not myself. And I don't like the feeling that I'm not in control of my body. I've had too much of that in my life.



I just feel so helpless to stop it. Why is this happening to me. I don't deserve this. Every time I walk to the bus stop I see Him, standing there, off in a patch of trees, staring at me. And smiling. I don't know how something without a mouth can smile, but I feel His smile like burning directly on my soul. It's very hard to breathe when He is around. No one can accurately describe that feeling.