gntle @intoanotherether - Tumblr Blog

centuria-deactivated20140805

Peter Shire—Henry, 1982

distance

like a mirage in the distance i distract myself with daydreams and geometric formations picking out the dandelions this is obsession this is a pattern of talking to myself i look for angels everywhere i am i am in the garden i have been here in bed watching the sky change from blue to black like someone hit it see the moon? it's killing something in the distance

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Trying Existentialism

If you must take the risk of walking between two somewheres between the times of 2am and 7:30am, stay in the center of the street. I learned this on a late-night bike ride back home after a sleazy occasion with a cross-eyed stranger in a cemetery next to a new sprout of granite in its garden: it was in the dark o-clocks of the day's witching hours. Our faces were poured over with thick darkness that blurred us out into a couple of featureless shadows, and we shared words about what our faces were like so the sex could extend into visual dimensions. He had a freckle configuration the shape of Colorado and parted his hair down the middle which he explained in terms of Moses parting the seas. He'd been there alone to dwell on death existentially and defended that the best way was to be surrounded by people who were already dead. My cemetery visit was made out of personal interest.

He sparks a lighter and lights himself a smoke, "you know, I don't really like smoking cigarettes." "Why do it then?" "It's convenient." The wavering dot of red burned against the night sky. The June humidity draped over like curtain of black velvet. He was laying against a tombstone and I was laying with him. Before then, I'd never tried existentialism.

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kissedbythevoid

How can you grieve so much over something so seemingly meaningless?

grimreaperman

serdcestakana

filipisaway

Antarctica

I'm about to reveal a lot here, things I just can't keep to myself any more. Everyone needs to know what's going on before it's too late. Listen, I know this is going to make me sound crazy, but everything I'm writing here is absolutely true. I don't know how else I can prove it, but it's really real, I swear. I was witness to something bigger than life itself, I saw it in Antarctica on an exploration tour in the mid-90's. For a little background, I was a fully granted member of the Illuminati and even served leadership roles in my chapter. I'm no longer involved, do not wish to be associated, and regret my time with the organization. But when I was still active, there was a huge preoccupation with Antarctica. We just wanted to know what was, like, really there. A lot of ridiculous, hyped up conspiracies were thrown around, but in the end, there was no real telling what was waiting there and no one could say for sure until someone went.

"Operation Antarctica" was the theoretical exploration plan but hadn't been written any further than to the extent of "go there and come back." It was always thrown out at round-table discussions and meetings, but that was a fearful trek that asked for a lot of commitment, to say the least. I was just divorced and fired from my job, so feeling a bit lost, I thought maybe it'd give me some purpose. All it took was asking if anyone would go with if I went. We left a few days later, a small group of four, myself included. What can I say? We were blinded by curiosity.

It was such a rush, just to get there was the most liberating thing. We didn't go out searching for anything in particular, just any sort of truth. What we found was something else, we found Antarctica. We didn't see any secret government towers or experiments, we didn't run into the Free Masons, and nowhere did we come across uncontacted civilizations or extraterrestrials. I just wish any that had been what we'd found otherwise. People need to know what's out there, no matter how deeply disturbing or hysterically sickening it is. You'll probably never hear from me again after this.

I saw Antarctica. And I'm paying for seeing what I saw, Antarctica punished me it. No one was allowed to see what we'd come to find and for a good reason. The others I'd ventured out with took their own lives, they just jumped into the Arctic waters. I didn't go home alone, though. Antarctica sent a creature back with me, it followed me all the way back home, right behind me at a distance. It never tried to hurt me or make any kind of contact, not even a sound. I couldn't make out too much of what the thing looked like, it could have been a shadow for all I knew, about the size of a raccoon. I thought it'd return to its icy wasteland once I'd reached home, but it never left. It stayed around. Once I reached the mainland, it disappeared from sight, I thought it'd left and I could forget everything I'd just seen and move on. There'd be trauma, I knew that much. Dreadfully, I found that the creature would be there to greet me in my driveway when I got home. Seeing it in clear view, I practically vomited. It scurried away on all-fours after I'd pulled up, as if it was just making me aware of its presence. It didn't help that I lived tucked away in the rustic mountainside. My brother and I built the cabin I'd come to live in after my divorce. She took the house, and I always wanted to try a life of solitude, so, that's exactly what I did. I dismissed the encounter as a woodland critter to put myself at ease, but in the back of my head, I knew it was the Antarctic creature. How it found me, or my house was something I had no idea of, only that it was lurking around.

The following Saturday morning, a couple days later, the thing appeared on my back porch. It still kept a distance, far away enough away to park my Jeep in between us, but close enough for a full view. My immediate reaction was to throw my coffee mug at my door, and thankfully, I didn't break it. The creature didn't seem startled, but slowly backed up and walked away, looking back at me the entire time. Never did it blink or show any expression.

I'd have interactions just like this with it for years to come, every single day, and still, to this day it watches me. It lives in the woods around my house. The thing is like a small, hairless primate, bones clearly defined and walks around like a spider on human-like hands, a face like a chimp and big, glowing yellow eyes. It doesn't end. All I can do is try living with it, and I've had no choice but to get used to its gaze. Most mornings, I can expect to find it pacing around on my back porch. If it isn't there when I wake up, that's what'll terrify me. What I hate about it most is that its cries sound human. I'll find the creature pacing around my yard, and when it sees that it's got my attention, it'll stop and stare at me through the slider door on my back porch. It'll stare at me while I sleep, crying all night outside my bedroom windows. I've screamed for forgiveness until my voice gave out.

I saw everything in Antarctica, I know what's going on up there. If there is any one single person or group who knows what I'm talking about or going through, please contact me. I can't be the only one, but I really just might be.