Sunday

I’m not sure why I’m writing this down on paper and not on my computer. I guess I’ve just noticed some odd things. It’s not that I don’t trust the computer… I just… need to organize my thoughts. I need to get down all the details somewhere objective, somewhere I know that what I write can’t be deleted or… changed… not that that’s happened. It’s just… everything blurs together here, and the fog of memory lends a strange cast to things…

I’m starting to feel cramped in this small apartment. Maybe that’s the problem. I just had to go and choose the cheapest...

I'm a پرستار of CreepyPasta just as much as the اگلے guy. I read it almost everyday. Recently, I have been reading Sonic.exe.

It was okay. Just like any other. A guy gets a video game disc from a friend and has a letter with it. He reads it and thinks its a little joke. Obviously there's something wrong with it. Ignoring the letter he puts the disc in the computer. He then notices strange things about, has many openings where he can take out the disc and destroy it, but keeps playing out of curiosity. At the end he hears a voice and a plushy ends up being behind him and looks like the thing he...