I owe it to you guys to notify you...of what happened to my best friendd, Rob. While he was typing this, you see, Rob started to convulse. His chest started swelling to some enormous size, and feathers poked out of his mouth. Soon, his body was ripping apart.
His blood and the remainding parts of Rob's body have now ruined my prized couch...the very couch we had taken four days of hillarious misadventures to acquire. The carpet's also ruined.
o, I almost forgot to el you about the birds.
The birds that were ripping theirselves out of Rob's torso
they kept twirping,...they just would not stop.
I watched the light go out of Rob's eyes. His last words were;
Tweet. Tweet. My beak is ever so sharp....i dont know whatthatmeant.
The birds disapeared...I think...I don't remember where they went, actually.
Why is it happening to us?
GODDAMMI BRIAN STOP FUCK STOP COPYING ME
moving out of this room
Nat's whimpering in the closert I need to go comfort the kidd
comforted him, he's fine, I guess. Not crying anymore, at least.
Panicked. I sent emails to all of my friends.
No one has replied back....
all my friemds on facebook...have changed their pics
they're all shadow people, for some reason
if only Tim was ere...he was the leader of the groupo, really he'd know what to do
the rest of the internet hardly workss...no results load on google
not evenn for porn man
NOT EVEEN FOR POORN
sorry, had to be a little lighthearted thee
i miss the tall man. at least he didnt kill us
bet all he wanteed to do was give us a guh
yes im drinking right now whjy do you ask nat
okay bedtime sorry
before i go i havbe tom ention
I hear it too.
The Deathwatches, as Stephen King called it in that novel Insomnia.
It won't stop.
I want to cut my ears off.