What's with that hair?

[jchrisobrien]

Sunday was the Angel marathon at Jen and Kevin's house. We picked the more memorable episodes to review, and I was impressed by all of them. There are some damn fine episodes that came out of that show, as was evidenced by one of the guests, who prides himself on being cynical and jaded, getting drawn in by the series. I think I will have to review my older tapes as well. The evening would have wound down nicely, but I forced myself to stay awake to make lunch for the next day, and was plagued by ghosts and mind tricks until I finally fell asleep.
Ghosts and mind tricks you say? It's that uncanny ability your mind has to attach grim importance to the little clicks and ticks that a house makes. The ones that graduate from innocent clickings to the measured steps of a stranger walking towards your room, in the dark. Or some incorporeal entity that will do horrible things to, that wants you to turn and face it just before it descends on you.
One of these days I will do fear training. I'll walk down to the basement with a penlight or candle, turn out all the lights, and sit there for fifteen minutes in the dark. Once I've mastered that, I'll graduate to watching something really creepy, and delving down to the basement. If I don't show up for when I'm supposed to meet you next, well, at least you'll know where to look.

Comments

[spriggan.livejournal.com]

my current plan is to work on being brave in public. as for being brave in private, in basements, fuck that.

where to look for chris

[heatray.livejournal.com]

in the basement.

in the corner.

face mottled and twisted and paralyzed in fear, mouth gaping in a frozen scream.

i kept seeing little dead girls lurking in my closet last night. fucking Ring.

[alonewiththemoon]

Last night I dreamed that we got six inches of snow overnight. Then I dreamed that I woke up and we really did have six inches of snow. So it was really very confusing when I finally really did wake up and there wasn't any snow at all.

When I was being a paleolithic archaeologist in Spain, we spent a lot of time in caves. We walked into one deep cave, about half a mile in, to see some cave paintings which were up in a little crevice that only a few people could fit into at a time. We needed all the flashlights to illuminate the paintings, so while the guides took us up in groups of two or three to look at the paintings, the rest of us stood in the most absolute and utter darkness I have ever experienced in my entire life. It was tangible, this darkness; you could grab handfuls of it. I waved my arms around in front of me and of course I couldn't see them, but somehow that still surprised me, and it made me wonder how I knew I'd moved them at all, and I touched my shoulders to make sure I was moving my arms. Then I wondered how I knew I wasn't just standing on some tiny platform no bigger than my feet with infinite depths around me, and then I made myself stop wondering that. In the darkness we heard a thud like somebody dropping a cantalope and when the guides came back my friend Fred was on the ground bleeding from his scalp. He had turned his head and smacked right into a stalactite and gave himself a slight concussion. It was so dark you couldn't know that you were right next to a massive piece of stone, even if you had seen it before the lights went away. It was truly a strange experience.