gunner-mack-silas-blog - Tumblr blog

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holden-eric-coby‌

PSUEDORUSERA2HK974L: Even on your best days? That sounds rough. Yeah, I guess I live in the moment. When you put it like that it doesn’t sound so bad. Thank you, actually. 

PSUEDORUSERA2HK974L: I know for a fact that it’s definitely not going to work out for me, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. GoT, huh? That’s cool. Think I’ve seen a couple of those, don’t really follow it. Not much of a binger, I guess, but I imagine doing that kind of thing is extremely satisfying. Can you confirm or deny? 

I sink back into the couch cushions, sufficiently calmed from participating in this tiny text conversation alone. It’s like nothing matters except the brief waiting period for notthebeatles to shoot me a message. I can’t explain why it’s so soothing. Something about the ‘new message’ notification makes me feel validated, or something. I’ve never been big into long text message conversations, but I think I can get on board with this. 

PSUEDORUSERA2HK974L: What is your name? 

It’s a shot in the dark since I remember Holden telling me that the real appeal of this app is that everything remains anonymous. I’m not sure if I feel the need to remain anonymous. From what I know of this person, so far at least, he seems like he’d be a decent friend. Quickly I add:

PSUEDORUSERA2HK974L: Why are you using this app?

NOTTHEBEATLES: That sounds more depressing than I meant it to, I think. I mostly like my life. 

I fear I’m just not driving home the point I was trying to make, but I don’t want to bore this guy by continuously rehashing how I’m on the ‘grass is always greener’ train.

NOTTHEBEATLES: I’m sorry to hear that, man. Why do you think it’s not going to work out?

NOTTHEBEATLES: Satisfying? I suppose that’s one way to look at it. Shows like GoT, any show that has some big, epic, long plot with a million characters and possible outcomes is... terrifying to watch? Maybe I get too invested, but I think, maybe, that’s a sign of good storytelling. You get all nervous that something may happen to your favorite character or something. But yeah, it’s a great show. I like that it has complexity and each time you re-watch an episode, you notice something different. There’s clues scattered throughout. I’ve got theories about the end, but I won’t bore you with that.

My head starts to get hot, so I unplug my phone and roll over. My bed creaks underneath me and I know it’s time for a new mattress, but I don’t exactly have the funds for that shit right now. 

This guy hasn’t changed the username that the Pseudor app gave him when he signed up, and it makes me wonder why he’s bothering to pay for the premium version. I always thought it would weed out the weirdos from those that take it more seriously. Then I wonder when I became the kind of guy who takes anonymous online dating/relationships seriously. I heave a sigh and rub at my eyes. All this blue light is definitely bad before bed, but I’m enjoying this guy.

When I’m settled in comfortably on my left side, I look at my messages again. My teeth sink into my lower lip. Part of me just wants to tell this guy my real name. I know the chances that he actually knows me in real life are slim, but I did put the location filter on. It’s not like my name’s all that common. I swallow tightly and go with the name my parents were going to name me originally, but changed their mind last minute.

NOTTHEBEATLES: Jonah. You? NOTTHEBEATLES: Probably the same thing most are doing on this app. I guess I got bored and hooked on it and realized it’s hard to meet people when all I do is work with the same handful of faces all day. What about yourself?

[gunner-mack-silas-blog]

holden-eric-coby‌

relaxthekraken: Hey. I’m here. It’s actually just water! Glad you like it.

relaxthekraken: Nice to meet you, Ian. I’m not in the habit of giving out my real name on here, but you can call me Jett. What is your pic of?

LONGTREKLOST4: Oh, I see it now. LONGTREKLOST4: What’s up Jett? Fake names... pseudonyms... are what this app is about, isn’t it? LONGTREKLOST4: Mine is this cool alley in NYC that I stumbled upon.  LONGTREKLOST4: Do you swim?

[gunner-mack-silas-blog]

Be unapologetically proud of your WIP, your characters, your ideas! To hell with what everyone else says or thinks! Love them with your whole heart, and scream it to the skies!

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How to escape after being buried alive in a coffin.

It could happen to anyone. People bury a person alive to scare them or to get rid of them. In this situation, rely only on yourself.

Do not waste oxygen. In a classic coffin there’s only enough oxygen for about an hour, maybe two. Inhale deeply, exhale very slowly. Once inhaled - do not swallow, or you will start to hyperventilate. Do not light up lighters or matches, they will waste oxygen. Using a flashlight is allowed. Screaming increases anxiety, which causes increased heartbeat and therefore - waste of oxygen. So don’t scream.

Shake up the lid with your hands. In some cheap low-quality coffins you will be able to even make a hole (with an engagement ring or a belt buckle.)

Cross your arms over your chest, holding onto your shoulders with your hands, and pull the shirt off upward. Tie it in a knot above your head, like so: This will prevent you from suffocating when the dirt falls on your face. 

Kick the lid with your legs. In some cheap coffins the lid is broken or damaged already after being buried, due to the weight of the ground above it. 

As soon as the lid breaks, throw and move the dirt that falls through in the direction of your feet. When it takes up a lot of space, try pressing the ground to the sides of the coffin with your legs and feet. Move around a bit. 

Whatever you do - your main goal is to sit up: dirt will fill up the empty space and move to your advantage, so no matter what - do not stop and try breathing steadily and calmly. 

Get up. Remember: the dirt in the grave is very loose, so battling your way up will be easier than it seems. It’s the other way around during a rainy weather however, since water makes dirt heavy and sticky. 

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LONGTREKLOST: Hey, you on?

LONGTREKLOST: I really like your profile pic. What is that?

LONGTREKLOST: I’m Ian, by the way.

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Stress, anxiety and depression are caused when we are living to please others.

Paulo Coelho (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[gunner-mack-silas-blog]

holden-eric-coby

I read his texts. Then I read them again.

For a moment I just sit there, holding my phone but looking forward, staring into space as I think about what he said. Can’t really relate but he worded it so perfectly, so eloquently. That was so poetic. Need me some more of that. 

Woah. 

What just happened?

I think I just forgot where I was for a second. Wow. Different.

I don’t even know how to respond to this. I’ve never talked to someone like this before. I… I don’t… usually get this deep with people. Ever. I just don’t.

In fact, I feel nervous. How am I going to get on his level? This is like, actual communication with another person. It’s like all of a sudden: a friend. Just like that. Just – BAM!, I have a friend. This is crazy.

PSUEDORUSERA2HK974L: I am sitting on my couch dreading work tomorrow as well. Got myself into a pickle which I’m currently trying to not think about. The TV’s on too but I never know what to watch at night. PSUEDORUSERA2HK974L: Is it sad that I don’t daydream about being in other places? It’s not that I love my job- I don’t. But I can’t even think of somewhere or something fun enough that I’d rather be doing.  

NOTTHEBEATLES: So, you kind of live in the moment?

I guess I’ve never met someone who didn’t consistently wish they were anywhere else but where they are. It’s why vacations were invented. We all need to dream about that faraway place we might never get to go to get us through our boring routines.

NOTTHEBEATLES: I guess I get consumed at work a lot. I get zoned into whatever I’m doing... But even on the best days, I guess I want to fly off somewhere. Change my name, start over. 

I realize that sounds kind of depressing, like I’m running away from something. I’m not. I’m really not.

NOTTHEBEATLES: I’m the same, about work. In a bit of a predicament. Hope it works out for you. NOTTHEBEATLES: Also? Nothing good is EVER on TV. I’ve been binge watching Game of Thrones again though. Can never go wrong with that.

[gunner-mack-silas-blog]

Be unapologetically proud of your WIP, your characters, your ideas! To hell with what everyone else says or thinks! Love them with your whole heart, and scream it to the skies!

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holden-eric-coby

“That’s really gross…” I whisper, unsure if he’s serious or not. Piss drinking though, ugh. I really don’t want to think about that right now. I blink my eyes hard a few times. Nothing worse than a mood drop when you’re drunk, huh?

I mean… I’m not upset about the piss drinking even though that’s just not my thing. I’m more annoyed about Mack. I’m annoyed that he just walked away with that guy when we were talking. Like he doesn’t care to give me the time of day, which is fine. I guess I’m just not used to that. But whatever though, because I don’t need friends. Who needs friends?

I realize my gaze had sort of dropped onto the floor, so I look back up at Silas just in time to hear him asking about Coby. Not even Silas wants to spend time with me. Of course not. I lick my lips, press them together, and think about how even Ethan took off. 

I blink slowly a few more times, feeling my stomach turn and turn and turn. And then I get dizzy. And even more annoyed. I swear, I’m always having some kind of mental breakdown lately. 

“Yeah, whatever,” I say, cold. “Let’s go find Coby. Where the fuck’d he go anyways.” My hand catches on Silas’s shirt for a moment, tugging slightly before my arm drops back to my side, hanging loosely. I shoulder my way through the crowd just in time to spot Coby dancing with some girl. Shit, they’re like grinding on each other.

I reach behind me and my hand lands on Silas’s arm again. I point to Coby. “Looks like your boy is busy trying to get laid.” I then lean forward and vomit.

My ears are buzzing.

The second I see Coby with some girl, dancing like that, I stop caring that Holden seems irritated. I stop thinking about Corona and Mack. I’m just warm and my head starts tingling. 

All thoughts of rage slip from my head the second I hear Holden retching then a sickening splashing sound against the ground. A big circle clears around us. A few people scream and jump back. Everyone’s making a face. The scent of acidic bile hits my nose and I’m retching now, too.

I’m a sympathic vomiter. Always have been. Within seconds of Holden throwing up, I empty the contents of my stomach onto the floor right on top of Holden’s.

When I look up again, I spot Coby glancing my way. We meet eyes for a second before I turn and push my way back through the crowds.