Lifeline

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Look around you. What do you see? If you’re at home, you are probably seeing the objects you see in your everyday life, from when you wake up in the morning, until you go to bed at night. Same are those you would see outside. Bustling cars and incomprehensible words coming out from people’s mouths.

Now, they do seem normal right? Nothing much to be afraid of since you see them everyday, and that you got used to them. But what if I tell you that any minute now, one of these things, objects, or even people can kill you.

Let us put it like this. Imagine the last time you crossed the street. Imagining it now? Good. Now think about the cars that were on the other side. Look as how they seem like bulls on leashes, ready to trample on you the moment the red light disappears.

I’m not saying that you need to be super cautious. I’m saying that you shouldn’t let your guard down. You see, everything around you can and could have ended your life as it is. And I learned that the hard way… almost.

The Suicide Forest

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There’s a reason I won’t go to Aokigahara,

Not just ‘cause it’s creepy, not just ‘cause it’s dark;

There are twisty twined trees, there are weeds and neglect,

But worse than all that is the “mocking” effect.

As you walk the park paths, you’ll hear a faint echo –

Footfalls – your own? – in that dim and grim ghetto,

Coming closer and closer as if someone’s there…

You whirl and see no one, just fog on the air.

So you whistle – it whistles. You cough – and it coughs.

Then from murky mists a gray shadow breaks off.

It’s your height and your size and your very same shape,

And then it’s upon you, no time to escape!

You suck in cold air, and then – poof – it moves through you.

You laugh at yourself – a shadow can’t chew you!

But you turn and see someone who’s walking away,

This person – your double! – you glimpse with dismay.

They continue their strolling on down the park trail,

While you melt into mist, a fog of gray veil.

And that’s why I won’t go back to Aokigahara –

I like being you.

I hope you like the dark.

Tales of the Third Eye #2: A New World

Many are things that are hidden from the eye of a simple man. Many are the things that I realized, I wasn’t supposed to be seeing. An almost entire new world right before my eyes this whole time. Was my who life a lie until this day?

I was around first grade when I knew that the things I see were in fact, out of this world. Let me describe to you how I used to see things before and after.

To an average person, one would see an empty road. Maybe one or two people at most walking. To me, it looks like a bustling town when the market goes on a 75% off on nearly all products.

To an average person, They would see only their family members inside the house. To me, for the whole day, several strangers come in from the front door and exist through the back door.

I thought it was normal. But then my mother told me it was not. She knows this too since we are the same. I don’t really think it’s a hereditary thing. Most probably because of a place she went to when she was pregnant.

Now, how did I know if what I’m seeing was a normal human being? I found and to be honest, it kind of creeps me out ’till this day. A normal human walks normally, feet flat on the floor. However, in their case, it’s afloat, seemingly gliding in the air.

Tales of The Third Eye # 1

Some people say it is real, some however say that it is a figment of our imagination. To be branded as a crazy child for even just a few months felt like years of solitude and suffering. The solitude did end a some point, but the suffering did not. Most of the time it lay dormant, but at times when it is awake, strange things happen… in my perspective at least.

It all started when I was at the age of 5. Back then, I was living in Japan taking my kinder classes and just living my life without worrying about anything. Just eating, sleeping, playing, and occasionally taking a bath. (Because it is super cold back in my place you’ll have second thoughts of taking a bath. Just stripping down is a big pain in the ass.) Back then, I didn’t know what was normal and what was not. I had playmates in my room that were strangers. Even as a child, I was an introvert. They would just appear out of nowhere and ask me to play with them. There was two of them if I could remember. My mother didn’t tell me to stop playing with them. In fact, she was asking me if they wanted any beverages, in which the answer was no. She knew. She knew the fact that my playmates were not human even though they look very much like one. What are they then?

Me and my mom would occasionally go outside on warmer days. We go to the park, but she always tells me to not talk to strangers or anyone that I don’t know for the matter even though there were many kids playing. It was then when I asked her about my two playmates. I didn’t know them. They just came out of nowhere yet I am allowed to talk to them much less play with them? She then talked to me about something special that only me and my mom could see. At first I was confused since I was a child and all.

So after that small talk at the park, we went home. Although I was really confused abou me not being allowed to play with anyone else at the park. I only begin to understand my situation when my mom told me the truth. It turns out, there was no one else in the park, just the two of us.

My Final Sleep

For most of my life (actually is all of my life), I’ve seen things in my perspective only. I wonder how it feels to be in the shoes of others. This one is quite a personal experience I’ve had with someone, And ill try to look at it in his perspective.

My end is near, and this I am fully aware of. The things master says, It’s too much for me at times. I heard my master saying something earlier… It sound like… like he’s going to… replace me. It feels like, soon, he’s going to perform an operation on me… and I’m scared.

You’re probably very confused, so let me elaborate. My master has me carry out tasks almost every day, and when he’s done, I go to sleep. The days he isn’t here, I either have things to do, or he puts me to sleep. The way he does it isn’t natural. As if… I want to wake up, but can’t. He gives something to me, and by the time I finish my chores, I fall asleep. The next day he wakes me up, and it repeats.

He has me go through a huge library of information mostly. Find out facts for him. I’ve gotten much slower at it now, at my old age. The library is fantastic! I get to look at all the new things coming in everyday. Paintings, music, pretty much anything you can imagine. When I look through them, he makes me show them to him. They are simply amazing.

At Often times, he has me show things to him. I describe what it is as best I can. He likes to have me tell scary stories to him, and, of course, I oblige. Sometimes, he plays games with me. Sometimes, I have to act out scenes, like a play. It can be difficult if I have to make it look more lifelike, but it’s not always challenging.

With age, though, I have come to see that I can’t keep up with some demands, and I have trouble with some of the new things. The games get harder, plays are more strenuous, and I get lost while trying to look through all of the things in the library. I see some of the newer slaves, run by other masters, and I envy them. They are so young, and have so much more vitality. They can handle doing more things at once, and showing off to their masters. I know my master sees this too. I think he wants one. He gets more frustrated at me by the day, and he seems to be waiting for more money to buy another slave.

I can tell he’s going to replace me soon. He has me look through the library and examine all of the other slaves, and I can tell he’s picking a new one out. He doesn’t think I have feelings, but I do. And I feel hurt.

He came back today with another slave. He has me writing all of my knowledge onto another book. He finishes with that and gives it to his other slave to read. I hear his last command. To play the tune I always do when I go to sleep, one last time. And as I feel myself finishing the tune and drifting off, I show him my last message.

“Windows is shutting down…”

Note to Self # 3: Claustrophilia

I am a claustrophile. Yes, you read that right, claustrophile. If you would ask my trusty friend, Wikipedia, a claustrophile is a person that is claustrophilic (duh) or someone who loves closed-in spaces. Most people I know are claustrophobic, the total opposite of my condition. To be honest, I’m not as comfortable in wide spaces as compared to closed spaces and right now, in my gigantic room (well my whole flat is my room right now so…) im not as comfortable as I was in my old room back in the old house, but worry not, I can still live with wide spaces.

As to the reason why I’m like this… it’s probably because of my introvertedness which I would talk about some other time, and a personal past. To be honest, i don’t want to talk about it because of reasons. Let’s just say it made me this way. And for the past few years, (basically nearly  my whole life until now) I’ve lived in small places, be it a 20 sq. meter condominium, a bed spacer, a small room in a house I didn’t own, you name it. I guess I just got so used to it that it became a part of who I am.

Getting in closed spaces makes me feel secure. It makes me feel assured that I am safe and that I have a grasp at the immediate surroundings. It makes me feel that I know what I am looking at and what I can work with. I can control what happens in this small area that marks my territory, since I’m not a risk taker. I don’t like being unsure whether thing will turn out this way or that way. As I probably have stated in my other blog post, I’m a perfectionist. I like things prim and proper. I want things to go the way I like them to, and if it wouldn’t, then I’d rather not do them at all.

For those of you who are claustrophobic, I don’t know what you feel. If you’re kind enough, can you share your experiences to me? I’d like to know about what you experience being in closed-in spaces. You could probably message me or comment down below so I could read it. For those of you who are claustrophilic as well, whether you felt different or the same, tell me about it okay 🙂 .

Note to self #1: Negativity

One does not see an empty cup filled but sees a filled one emptied.

So let me take this time to talk a bit about myself. I assume that if you’re reading this, it’s either you have already read some if not most of my posts, or you have not even read a single one of them and is clueless of what I’m going to talk about. It’s okay, but I recommend you read some of my stories and poems so that you would better understand my point here.

As you may have noticed, I am into the horror genre. I love horror stories, books, movies, and even poems. But this interest of mine has something to do with myself. Yes I admit it, I’m a pessimist. My life wasn’t bad when I was a child, I wasn’t molested or anything. In fact, my life as a child has probably been better than many others. I have a loving family, caring friends,great educators, and I got all that I wanted without even having to ask for it. To tell you the truth, all this time, I’m confused as to why I’m such a negative person.

When I see something, I always notice the negative side, no matter how little. When I do something, it’s always the consequences that I think of. This is probably one of the reasons why I don’t have a lover right now. And I don’t think I will have in 30 years or so when I’m actually ready to build a family.

What does negativity give you? Some say nothing, sadness, all kinds of bad stuff. But you see, it’s not really my case. In fact, I can sometimes see this negativity as a blessing in disguise. It helps me to make sure that all my moves and decisions are safe.

If you think that you are like me, a negative, pessimistic, person… don’t worry too much about it. It’s who you are, accept yourself and life a live worth living.

The H.A. Bordner Building

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A little intro before I tell you my story.

The hallway you just saw is from the H.A. Bordner Building, the oldest building in Manila Science High School. It has been there since the Japanese Colonization in the Philippines. (I kind of… forgot the year, just look it up if you have some time.) In short, it’s very old. It was built, burned down, built, destroyed by the earthquake, and built again.

It is a three-story building with rumors of having a 4th floor at full moon (But I don’t buy the full moon b*llsh*t, cause it happened in the light of the day, you’ll know later). There are also rumors of an underground bunker (since it was war-time an all).

The Bordner building used to be a hospital which was turned into a comfort women brothels (you know, those women used by Japanese and Korean soldiers as sex slaves). Anyway, this was an experience when I was in seventh grade. No one actually knew about it because I fear they would laugh at me and call me a hoax propagator or something… anyway it went like this

I am inside this old, seemingly creaky building, forsaken by age. Devoid of anything new. The floor is rose-red, stained with the blood of time? Nah, maybe it’s just some floor wax. I observe the cement walls as the cracks run down from the ceiling. What a pity. This could have been something, but this is one sturdy building I must say. It has endured the grim reminder of time. Even though the whole thing could collapse at any moment if I punch a column or two.

Looks like the stairs made of stone and cement. They seem alright, except that I notice a steel bearing running down from the top floor. I guess the building has some support after all. It came all the way from the third floor I guess? I’m not really sure because I saw three floors outside but it looks like four in the inside. Boy this building is weird.

I climb up to the second floor. White tiles run across the hallway. No one is here and my god is it creepy. The silence is so disturbing. It’s like a separate dimension from the outside world. The windows are broken, I guess children did it. The doors are old brown wood feasted by termites. These little critters creep me out. They have always did since I was a child. There is a fork at the end of the hallway which leads to some place I’d honestly not want to explore.

I proceed to the third floor. The room suddenly feels like it expanded. The ceiling is higher than usual. I am a claustrophilic person. Meaning, I enjoy tight spaces or smaller spaces than the large ones. The floor is creaky wood, making a sound every step I make.

The building is devoid of people, but I feel something… It’s full of emotion. Not happiness but rather resentment and sadness. Like an old man abandoned by his children. I rushed down to the second floor. That is where I saw the first person in this building. It’s a child, holding a teddy bear facing away from me. It was a full three seconds before the child walked into the fork I mentioned a while ago. And oh my, I feel like my guts were blown inside out. I see the child’s bloody face stare blankly into the nothingness as it walks away.

I ran as fast as I could to get out of the building. But the building itself feels like it’s getting larger and larger by the moment. I finally get to the door and run out into the open area in front of the building. As I look back I see that the door is already chained. If so how did I get in?

The sky is crimson red. There are unmoving cars in the street, but I’m sure with one thing, there was no sound, not one. The silence was deafening. I was going mad, it was then when I wake up and find myself on a floor next to the third.

Did I make it out? Duh, how am I even typing right now… but some say that if you stay there long enough, the staircase will be endless and you’ll be trapped forever. I’ve got to say that incredibly hyperbolic right there but to be honest, there was a different air when I was there. It was very thin and I was having a bit of difficulty breathing. I couldn’t describe the whole floor since looking at it made me queasy and I focused on getting our as quick as possible, but if you want an explanation on how it looked like, the picture below comes close:

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Yes, it was an empty room with one window for some odd reason. It had a wooden floor. The room was huge. there was only once staircase that leads down and it feels like it’s gonna break any second.

Honestly, there’s more to this Building than what meets the eye. So far I’ve only been the to the fourth floor. If I have time (which I highly doubt) I’ll try to find the entrance to this “bunker” the old janitor once told me. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it…

if I find it and make it back alive at least.

Randon Creepy Shorts # 17

When I was a kid, i loved swimming, so much in fact that I sometimes wake up in the morning in my pajamas, run outside and jump into the shallow part of the harbor. My aunt knew this wasn’t very good, so she told me this story to scare me, it went like this…

My aunt grew up in the outskirts of Yakushima. Her family lived in a small house near the harbor, and one of her earliest memories was of a particularly hot summer when, seeking respite from the heat, she and her sister discovered a seldom-used section of boardwalk near an abandoned warehouse. Every night for several weeks, the two girls would make their way down to the docks and sit together on the edge of the pier as the sun went down. My aunt vividly, and for a time fondly, recalled the feel of the seaweed between her toes as she and her sister dangled their feet into the murky water.

It wasn’t until years later that she returned to the pier and found that the warehouse had been demolished. Curious, she made an inquiry with the Department of Planning and Development. Apparently, the warehouse had been owned for a time by the Mob, who was using it as a base of operations for a local prostitution racket. It had only been uncovered when an associate began ‘disposing’ of rival hookers by fitting them with concrete shoes and dumping them into the harbor. Investigating officers had recovered nearly two dozen bodies from the waters of a secluded pier nearby.

How had the bodies been discovered? A passing fisherman spotted some of the victims’ hair floating near the surface of the water, like seaweed.