Spooky Fridge Raiding

To start with, lets address the comments. What the fuck. So, apparently Slender Man has "Proxies" that work for him. I have one question: Why the flying fuck would anyone ever want to work for something like that? That Morningstar asshole is apparently one of them, as is someone dead named Sam, or Nightscream, and someone named "Redlight." Most importantly however, is that our anonymous shithead commenter is also a Proxy, which means for certain that we now have actual psychopaths coming after us, in addition to Slender Man and... The Spinner, I guess. There is also a... Community or something. I don't know... Actually... How the fuck did all these people find my blog anyway? 

Goddammit it doesn't matter, does it?

Slender fuck has been getting aggressive. I didn't think he could move when you are looking at him, but clearly I'm an idiot for thinking something like that has actual rules... I was busy staring out the damn window for him, when Carlos came in and yelled. I turn around, who do I see? The Slender Man standing in the middle of the room. So I, naturally, opened the nearest window to jump out, but by the time I turned around he was gone again.

This shit isn't funny. I'm sure that faceless asshole would be laughing at us if he had a mouth.

Sleep is getting difficult too. Every fucking night it sounds like someone is moving around in here, but neither Carlos nor I have seen any hint as to who. Well, I mean physically. The comments last post make me think it is our mysterious anonymous douchebag commenter. I guess it's supposed to scare us, or intimidate us or something? Coming in our room and moving shit around? I think you fucking opened our fridge once or twice? Did you find what you needed, Jackass? Help yourself to some Pepsi or some shit? Christ...

I haven't heard anything about more dead students, so that's good. Just feels like we're spinning our wheels here. I know there were more people watching that video with us... I don't remember how many, but it was a good room full. We've got to find them. We've got to. There is strength in numbers, and between all of us, we'll figure out someway to kill this fucker.  

Go Away

OK, I don't even know how to make this blog Private, or even if you can do that, but I do fucking know how to check the view count, and I do every single fucking time I come on here, just to be sure. I know someone stumbled across this, so I am asking you. Please Go Away. This is meant to be a private blog to express my thoughts and feelings after a traumatic incident, as ordered by my Therapist. It wasn't even my idea to begin with, I just decided to go along with it because my therapist told me it might help. OK? So please go away. I know you have visited this blog multiple times, whoever you are, and I know you aren't my Therapist, because I asked him. So really, please... This is some sensitive stuff here.  

Introduction

This is really a waste of energy. Hello world, and weirdo internet creepers. My name is Jeremy, professional student. And what the hell do I write now? Jeez. This really isn't my idea of a good use of time or energy, but Doctor Despinos thinks it'll be good for me or something. Sure it will. At least he means well, but this therapy crap is going nowhere. I mean, I know after whats happened, I probably need it, but... I really don't want to talk about it. Not to him, not an empty blog and not to anyone else. I've said all that needs to be said. It's done.

But I guess, if we're paying for this, I might as well torture myself a bit. Get our money's worth. So I'll do this blogging thing when he tells me to, or if for some reason I actually do end up liking it. Gotta keep an open mind, right? Like, maybe future me will come back and read this to say "hey, this is where I turned everything around, made something of myself and achieved all my dreams." Stranger things had to have happened, right?