Sunday, December 14

i'm standing in my basement. in the corner. i don't keep anything in my basement, leaving it empty and wonderful. the floor is concrete and the walls are bare cinder blocks. a lightbulb hangs from a string. and i stand in the corner.

morning ritual, you see? i just try to be as still as possible. so the shaddows can't find me. it's practice for real life where the shaddows can kill you. my basement shaddows are harmless. creepy, but harmless. so i stand still for practice, practice for real life.

and i've been doing this for some time. years i think, but i couldn't tell you how many. years seem to blend together, especially when all you're doing is trying to stand as still as possible. here comes a shaddow. it sniffs my arm, my shoulder, neck, but it doesn't seem to recognize me as important for eating or Attatching. it sniffs the floor, more floor, the wall, and another shaddow. no problem. i'm fucking good at this.

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