Smiley

The first time I met Smiley was in a dream. I know, I know, that's not the most interesting thing in the world. But it was where we first met. So far, I can remember the dream, so I figured I should note it down.

I was tied to a table, slowly being dismembered. First my fingers were clipped off, then my toes. Smiley was enjoying it - at least, I assume he was. If you've seen Slenderman, then you'll have an idea of what Smiley looks like. No extra-long limbs, but a similar black suit. He had no eyes, nor any sockets where they would go. Same for his nose. All he had was a mouth, stretched ear-to-ear in a sadistic grin. The corners of his mouth were held up by hooks. Blood dripped down into his teeth.

He wasn't a surgeon. He hacked away at me, piece by piece, and no matter how much I begged or threatened or cried, he kept going. My screams echoed in the room, and they seemed to fuel him. A gravelly voice echoed in the room, whispering over and over to me, "Feed the masses! Feed the masses!" I don't know what I was to do. Was my flesh food for others? I never found out.

I didn't die. Despite me losing organ after organ, no matter how much I bled, I didn't die. Even when I was just a head, I was screaming. And when that cleaver slammed down between my eyes... I woke up. Sweating, shaking, freaked out of my skin, and wishing I never fell asleep again in my life. I tottled over to my sink to wash my face.

Smiley was there in the mirror. Only for a split second, but he was there.

Questions and Evaluations.

I make no mistake, I am semi-drunk as I write this. I have recently been informed that I'm not the best friend I could be. While this, in it's own, is not bad news - I mean, really, not every friend is the best they can be, or we'd all be best friends - it has brought into question a lot of things, especially regarding certain incidents.

I won't name names or give details, as I want to protect the parties involved. I don't expect to get feedback from this - no one really reads what I write anyway - so, this is just me and my thoughts.

I always had an image of myself that I held myself to. I never did think I was the best person I could be, nor did I believe I was the worst. This train of thought I'm currently on is brought about by a certain individual who brought to my attention several pieces of information that have caused me to look at myself and see who I am.

I've been known to ridicule those who say, "I'd give my life for you." My reason is that dying for someone else is easy, as there are no consequences to deal with. But giving up everything BUT your life for a person... That is when you see who is who. And I always thought I was at least semi-reliable, that my friends could count on me when it mattered. I now question that line of thought. I see myself now as being a selfish person, unwilling to give up the smallest comfort for people, even my friends. Is that who I really am? I've been informed by a friend that I'm a hypocrite. While I don't doubt this in the slightest, the reason for the statement is what eats at me. I was told that, without intent, I've offended quite a number of people. I've also offended many on purpose, but not these. I can only think that I am childly selfish. As long as I get what I want, I am content to let the world and all it generates pass by unnoticed. I don't like to trouble myself with other's problems. I always assumed they would think the same.

Perhaps I was mistaken.

Either way, this goes up on the blog, It doesn't matter who reads it, comments on it, likes it or not. I have no one else to turn now. I need to think this through with a clear head. But one thing I do know, and cowardly or not, it does scare me. And that is the burning question in my mind. Several, actually. The first is one of culling. I'm quite fond of culling my friends - both online and in real life. I go through the lists, see who still merits my friendship, and let the rest know that they are no longer required. Brutal, rude, insensitive, yes. I won't make excuses as to why I do it. But one thought has never really crossed my mind until now: I may talk of who is worth my time. Have I ever thought of who's time I'm worth? The answer is, no I haven't. I'm selfish, so I wouldn't bother.

The other question is one that really scares me. As I've stated before, I thought I had an image of myself. I thought I knew who I was. What scares me is the fact that I am undeniably wrong about who I am.

This isn't something suicidal. I have no intentions of ending my life anymore. I've been through that phase (which, incidentally, taught me that I'm a coward. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here typing.)

But I have to ask myself if I am who I really think I am. A lie, told often enough, becomes the truth. Even if it is just someone lying to themself. In that case, have I deluded even myself into thinking that I am a better man that who I really am? Am I simply covering up my shortcomings and falsehoods with bravado, with piss and vinegar? Because I look at myself right now and see nothing of who I thought I was.

The scariest question has yet to come, though. I was informed that I should let go of my obsessions - anime, games, the like - and attend to real life and the trappings it holds. That I can always play later, and when friends show up it's not enough to just say "Sup!" and leave it at that. I need to work harder to maintain my friendships.

The question that bothers me is simple: If I was put into a position to choose between my creature comforts, or my friends, what would I pick? The easiest answer - the expected one - is that I pick my friends over my social bubble.

What scares me is that I don't know if that's true.