era:gitm

My roommate is gone.

This is real, im a bit freaked out, maybe im crazy… I don’t know.

This started yesterday, but ill start with some of the details. Me and a good friend live… or lived together. He was a gamer and so was he, we both smoked weed, and we both listened to metal. He worked night shifts for his work and I worked the normal 9-5 so we didnt hang out very much.

We were really good friends and always got along even though we seemed to be each others pet peeves. He listened to the angry death metal, most of which I cant stand and I listened to the melodic metal. He always smoked out of the bong and I always smoked my vape, which he hated. He was always playing mmorpgs, which I again cant stand and I played shooters which he hated. None of this seemed releveant or weird to me till now.

Yesterday he was off work that night so we were actually hanging out for once. My bed time roles around so I go out for a cigarette, and when I come back in I say “goodnight man, see you when I see you.” And he looks up from his mmo and stares at me dead in the eye and says “yeah I dont think so.” Then looks back at his screen, I was tired and stoned so I didnt respond or even think twice about it.

Today I got home from work and noticed a few things I thought were odd. When I logged into the xbox usually his profile is before mine, and now his profile is gone.

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Personal Glitch in the Matrix

So I experienced my first personal Glitch in the Matrix the other day. I was getting ready to go walking (maybe looking for Pokémon? Why? Who’s asking??) and was looking for my walking shoes. I had found one (I made sure to put it on the arm of the couch so I wouldn’t “find” this one, thinking it was the other, and be disappointed.) and was looking for the mate… like I was diligently searching for this thing. I looked all over the living room, under the couches, everywhere. I kept feeling like it had to be on the shoe rack by the front door. So I went over to it and didn’t see the shoe. I put more effort into it and moved things around and still didn’t find it. Keep in mind this shoe rack is in complete disarray. It is not organized. Shoes are just thrown all over each other. So I decide to sit in front of this shoe rack and take every shoe off of it, to make sure the one I’m looking for isn’t hiding behind something or buried in the back corner or something ridiculous like that. I took every shoe off and didn’t find it, so I threw all the shoes back onto to rack, haphazardly. I resign to the fact that the shoe is not on this rack, no matter how much I would swear it’s there.

Here’s a picture of the shoe rack and basically what it looked like at that moment:

Then I get a text.

For whatever reason, I decided to stand up and turn my back to the shoe rack to read this text. I finish what I am doing on my phone and turn back around toward the rack, and lo & behold my shoe is sitting there. And not like sticking-out-of-the-pile-somehow-I-just-missed-it-earlier. Like all the rest of the shoes look like someone took their entire arm and pushed them back into to rack to almost make a framing wall around the shoe I was looking for. Like there was now a big empty spot in the center of this shelf with my shoe sitting in it, almost being presented to me.


Here is a picture of what my shoe looked like when I found it:

I looked at the couch and sure enough, my other shoe was sitting on the arm. I now had both my shoes. I know for a fact that shoe was not on the rack, but after I turned around and turned back again, it was right there for me??

Probably the weirdest shit I’ve experienced so far.
For most of my childhood, my family was on the run, and I didn’t even know it.

Between 1989 and 1998, my family moved over twenty times. About twice a year, we’d get completely uprooted and have to start our lives over in a new city. My sister and I thought nothing of it, since we were army brats and relocating had become second nature to us. Every morning, our parents would change into their military uniforms, drop us off at school, and drive away in our rusty old clunker of a car. What my sister and I didn’t know was that our parents had gotten discharged in 1991. We weren’t moving because they were being reassigned: we were running.

It was summer of 1998, and we’d been living in the same dingy apartment for seven months. My parents were getting a little stir-crazy waiting for their new assignments. This was the first time we’d stayed in one place for so long, and I started believing we’d finally found a permanent home. Maybe I’d be able to make friends and actually keep them for once. Though the mood at home was tense, what with my parents constantly whispering between themselves, my social life was booming. I was being invited to birthday parties, went to sleepovers, and even signed up for an upcoming school trip. Things could not have been any better, until the night I went to the park alone.

That evening, my parents were entertaining an old woman with a floral shawl covering her head. They didn’t even notice me sneaking out the door. I made my way down the apartment complex, crossed the street, and walked into the park. On an old chain swing stood a man who seemed normal from the neck-down: he wore a bright blue scarf, a black t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and running shoes. Things got a little weird from the neck-up: he had on a white mask that almost seemed to glow in the dimming twilight. His dirty blond hair fell over the solid curved edge lining his forehead. The mask was smooth and plain. The only details on it were the small holes where his nose should have been, a large black void for a right eye, and a smaller hole for a left eye.

I know that I should have turned and left right then, but like a moth to a bulb, I couldn’t turn away. He’s a murderer, a kidnapper, a mugger, the worst scenarios raced through my mind, but my frantic distrust could not stop my feet from drawing nearer.

I was snared by the gravity of his silent presence and circled around him several times before stopping face to face. Not a word was spoken between us. He gestured for me to follow. In a dream-like trance, I did.

The masked man limped a few yards ahead of me, paying no mind to whether I had followed or not. He knew that I would. As the city blocks passed, I realized that he was leading me on a meandering path through my own neighborhood. Familiar storefronts passed by us on both sides, their windows dark and gazing out at the two of us like empty skulls. When he took a sharp turn through an alleyway, I should have known better than to pursue. In that dark alley, I stopped in my tracks and, instinctively, he paused as well.

“Can I see what’s under your mask?” I asked.

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131103 Sistar “Give it to me” Youtube music awards

cr:aochan55

I called in sick, and somehow "I" showed up for work

by reddit user johnchapel

Part One

Okay, so, I’m really losing my head here, and I’m really scared. I know we all “agree” nosleeps are real, and treat them as such, so I don’t know how to express that this is really real and the past 24 hours have been the most frightening of my entire life, so please, someone help me get some answers.

I run promotions in a club in my hometown. As such, I’ve spearheaded a particularly popular weekly where I host to local DJs, in an effort to expand the music scene and get talent out of their basements and into the world. It’s been running for 4 years. Part of this hosting, obviously, includes arriving to the club early, setting up, putting on music, and DJing myself until the opener comes on.

I have done this every Tuesday since August of 2010, and I never called in sick, or missed a single Tuesday (with the exception of a particularly icey night in 2011, due to the entire town shutting down, including the club).

This most recent Tuesday (3 nights ago), my stomach hurt terribly. Enough to where I really couldn’t get up, and it was making me pretty nauseated. So I decided, for the first time, that my best friend, DJ partner, and frankly, one of my favorite DJs Dylan (aka The Sexbox) could come in and cover for me, since my gear was already set up, so he could play on that, and use the laptop for visuals. (We have TVs behind the stage that play weird stuff).

So I text Dan, who is the bar manager, at 8:48pm: http://imgur.com/ZbziPj4

The image is posted simply to illustrate that this HAPPENED, nothing more. But I tell him I’m sick, and that Dylan can cover for me. Dan says its fine. So I get up, go to the bathroom and try to…ya know…empty my stomach, head back to my room and text Dylan: http://imgur.com/CgLkyyK

Notice the last text in there. About Dennys. I’ll get to that later.

So I’ve got a bottle of coke to settle my stomach, and I recently torrented the entire Fast and Furious collection, because I’ve never seen em, but by the point, I’m already up to Tokyo Drift. So I kick that on and sip cold coke, finish the crappy movie, went downstairs and made a little food thinking i should probably eat before I sleep, although I didn’t eat much. Then I took an anti nausea pill. then put on the fourth movie in the series and fall asleep while watching it. Sometime around 1 am, I imagine.

That was my entire night. I sleep like a baby and wake up sometime around 1:00pm Wednesday. I’m a lazy bitch, I know. Dylan hits me up on facebook. I’m happy to screenshot the entire thing if that’s nessecary, but for now, I’m just going to copy and paste the entire thing unedited (except I’ll add the names beforehand so you know who’s saying what) Also, I apologize if you think chatlogs are mundane. It’s just that this is actually what transpired.

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[SOYOU FOCUS] 140510 Ma Boy @ 2014 Lush Smelly Concert 

(SoCool /Loving U/Alone/GITM) cr:남상미

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My song of the day <3

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[FANCAM]140312 SISTAR (SOYOU) GITM @ Bio Industry Expo Osong Korea 2014

cr:crystal castle