A place to share screenshots of Microblog posts, whether from Mastodon, tumblr, ~~Twitter~~ X, KBin, Threads or elsewhere.
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I’ve been sick at home for a few days. I blew my nose into some toilet paper, checked, then tossed it in the toilet. Saw myself in the bathroom mirror and had snot all over my mustache.
Then it hit me. This isn’t the first time I’ve blown my nose with a mustache — it’s just the first time I’ve immediately looked in a mirror afterward.
Oh my god
I was in a locker room three months ago minding my own business when this oddly looking guy next to me struck up a conversation. He looked old and incredibly skinny, but you could tell his face was younger. Maybe it's a skin condition like Ehlers-Danlos, I thought.
Well, the guy was in his early thirties and said the reason for his condition was that he had been recently freed by a cartel. He had been kidnapped for years, kept without food or proper hygiene, basically working as a slave. And then he showed me a picture of himself from three years ago on his phone. He has the incredible phisique of a Greek god, beautiful face, with a six pack and well developed muscles. And there he was, skinny, thin as a pencil and with loose, aged skin.
He recounted how he had used his smarts to survive. He had been forced to kidnap others, forged friendships with his captors and even made important suggestions to the leaders to create alliances with other cartels. He was damn good at the job making people fall into the trap, schmoosing the right people and getting out of situations. He said he was honestly one of the best they had, according to him.
He went on about how he had been tortured, kept in a cellar, worked tirelessly from dawn til dusk, and then released one day. And then he told me he he still had friends in the cartel to this day.
That's when I found a break 20 minutes in of this guy trauma dumping on me and I noped the fuck out of there with some bullshit excuse. Never in my life have I ever been so scared, sad, sorry and flabbergasted of someone recounting their life story.
I used to be Mormon
I used to be jehovas witness. Hello cousin!
Heck yeah!! I used to know quite a bit about jw from the exjw subreddit but it's been years since i frequented it. Now i just know there are a lot of similarities
I had half of my face ripped off by a dog when I was a kid. Skin and flesh was just hanging off of my face and I almost lost my right eye.
Doctors did a great job patching me up and you can't even tell that anything happened unless you know where the super subtle scars are.
After taking a car door to the head during heavy winds, I experienced immediate and recurring night terrors/sleep paralysis for two years. They started out pretty extreme, with me waking up on my stomach with some kind of creature pinning me to the bed. I'd struggle enough to lift my head a few inches, only to find my pillow was filled with distorted, open-mouthed faces stretching out at me from the material.
As time went in the hallucinations gradually waned in extremity, though never becoming anything comfortable. I would open my eyes to see a phosphorescent grid encompassing my walls, or millions of flies on my bedroom ceiling. Once my cat was staring up at them too, and I believed what was happening was real, only to wake up a moment later facing a different direction, and my cat fast asleep at my feet.
Eventually it's as though my soul became heavy or something. I slept on the top floor of a two-story home, with a very old colonial-era basement below it. I would constantly find myself one or two floors directly beneath my bed, all but glued to the ground and trying with all my might to crawl out of the damp, dark cellar toward the stairs, but too sluggish and/or paralyzed to do it. I felt terrified down there in the darkness. Eventually the adrenaline would wake me up safely in my bed.
Throughout the entire ordeal I would somewhat frequently open my eyes to see some sort of ghostly or transparent entity looming over my bed, leaning over or staring down at me. The last night I ever experienced an episode, I woke up to see that very entity, but I realized suddenly that the entity was me. It was me standing there, looking down at myself. I became angry. I felt like these episodes had ruined my life, and made sleeping something I no longer looked forward to. The rage came to a head. I activated every nerve in my body to try to break free of the paralysis. I gritted my teeth as I succeeded, groaning the words "FFFFRUUUUCKK YYRRROOOOUU!!!" as I bolted up from my bed and lunged through my own ghost. Then I never saw it again. In fact, I never had another night terror since. It's been years now. A decade at least.
I grew up deeply religious. Mom used to cast demons out of the house when I was little, and that ain't the half of it. Needless to say, I entered puberty with some fucked up perspectives. I started getting night terrors soon after I started masturbating, which was an accidental discovery of mine. The fact that I couldn't stop freaked me out. I thought it was demonic and no way was I gonna talk to my parents about any of it.
Fortunately for me, I was always fascinated by science and sci-fi. I loved sharks, astronomy, history, and Star Trek. For middle school I attended private Christian school or home school, but for 9th grade I demanded to return to public school. My parents relented. The demonic night terrors still tormented me nearly every night, but one day I read an article about sleep paralysis in a science magazine in the school library. It explained everything I'd been going through for several awful years.
That same night I experienced another episode. I felt lucid enough to remember the article and realize what was happening. Instead of impotently begging Jesus again for help, this time I simply thought, "fascinating." Then immediately woke up.
It has never happened to me since.
The people who fuck with libraries can all burn in hell. Libraries save lives, from exactly those same people.
When a friend of mine was a little kid, someone drove past, jumped out of their car, and ran over and grabbed him trying to kidnap him.
He was just confused about what the guy was even doing, but grabbed onto a chain-link fence and wouldn't let go, so the guy was yanking him and yelling at him to let go, but he was able to hold on. Eventually the guy gave up and ran back and sped away. While he was being yanked on the fence, he was worried because the ball he'd been playing with was rolling down the hill, and he was worried it would go somewhere he wouldn't be able to find it and he would lose his ball.
When the guy left, he went and retrieved his ball, psyched that he was able to get it back. He thought no more about it and kept playing, and then later that day told his mom about what happened.
She lost her mind. For some reason, he thought she had also been worried about the ball, and he kept telling her he'd been able to get it back after, so it was all good.
When I used to be spiritual I had a very small cult following of 12 people whose extreme believe in my lies actually showed me how frigthening Religion is.
I (aurally) witnessed a kindergartener get run over by her school bus. I was on a different bus and our bus drivers were talking over the radio, then there was this ungodly wailing from the other bus. The other bus driver just kept screaming "I killed her, I killed her".
Turns out the little girl barely missed the bus, ran alongside it to catch up, tripped, and fell under the wheels of the bus.
Once we got to high school, students on the killing bus were offered counseling. I, not being on the killing bus, didn't talk to anyone about it until I went to therapy decades later.
Yellow school buses freak me out still, for that and abuse reasons.
By coincidence, I inherited the RAM and CPU from the work computer of a guy who later shot up my workplace. Luckily he was the only one killed in the shooting. I still use the kit from the shooter to run my home server.
Aren't you worried that the ones and zeros that sent him mad could still be hidden as a transient memory just holding on inside a part of the RAM that you have up-to-this-point not made use of? What about if it's just biding its time hiding, waiting for the right moment to come out?
The guy who first showed me D&D when I was a kid went on to rape and murder a 90 year old woman who lived down the street during a botched robbery.
