Hello. I am sure some of you have heard the news of my sister's passing. She was found early yesterday morning in her apartment. Our family is devastated.
Along with a cracked memory card containing a few graphic images, a note was discovered on her desk that referred to this blog. Posting this, in some way, is her only dying wish.
Here it is:
"I DREAMT AGAIN LAST NIGHT.
I dreamt of the Man in the Long Coat.
Something had changed...
Something had shifted.
I walk into the [redacted] he stands in.
My legs felt like anvils,
my jaw tensed up.
CAN YOUR JAW BE SO TENSE IN A DREAM?
I felt as if my teeth were going to shatter from the pressure.
HIS EYES WERE EMPTY HOLLOWS DESCENDING INTO HIS SKULL.
I glanced behind me where I saw another dark figure immersed in blackness;
the kind of blackness that hides in the center of a shadow.
HE WAS PLUMED LIKE A BLACKBIRD.
The tension from my body left,
all that remained was the engulfing coldness.
I felt everything.
THE STILL AIR AGAINST MY SKIN,
THE SOLID EARTH BENEATH MY FEET.
As soon as I woke up, I was deflated.
MY CREATIVE ENERGY HAD BEEN STOLEN.
I knew it.
I know it.
They're back and they want to get in.
I took my memory card out and popped it into my computer; perhaps I could salvage some remaining photographs.
They're rapping at the door again.
The memory card I used can't be corrupted because it's brand new, but the images have glitched.
Now they're yelling from outside the door.
All except for two.
I'm ignoring them.
One was of a man in a horned mask lurking the woods.
They don't sound angry, they sound distraught.
Then there was one of me.
The sound of a dying rabbit.
The image shows blood running out of my mouth like a stream of tears.
The smell is seeping into my apartment;
it smells awful.
I'm looking at the camera as if I know something, then the photo disappeared.
I wonder if they can hear me sobbing right now. Would they even care.
I am currently writing this on a sheet of lined paper, as my computer crashed immediately after this discovery.
The knocking is getting louder;
I can barely hear myself think, let alone write.
The smell is overwhelming, my eyes tearing up.
I'll transfer these words online when the screams stop.
My hands are shaking.
THEY HAVEN'T LEFT YET."
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Am I awake?
Am I dreaming?
THESE THOUGHTS PASS THROUGH MY MIND LIKE A TURNTABLE.
I am no longer able to distinguish what is real and what is not.
I am not sure when my sleep begins or ends anymore. There is definitely something wrong.
The other day, I was walking alone in the woods behind my apartment again.
I SAW A MAN.
Not unusual along the trails and with my recent mental state. There was something about his presence that stopped me dead in my tracks.
I went to grab my phone to snap a photograph; a second goes by.
I look up.
He isn't there anymore.
The worst part of seeing this, and I know it sounds crazy, but
I COULD HAVE SWORN THAT HE HAD A BIRDLIKE MASK ON.
My memory is distorted, differently depicted every single time that I relive the moment.
SOMETIMES HIS BODY MOVES LIKE A SHADOW. OTHER TIMES HE IS STILL,
I CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD.
I have secluded myself from my family and friends.
It has been weeks.
My phone is filled with messages that I fear to respond to.
There are knocks at my door that I cannot bare to answer.
Even literature and films that I used to immerse myself in during states of isolation connect back to the Man in the Long Coat.
Or this man in the woods with the mask.
It's almost as if my beloved culture has been rewritten in favor of this nightmare that I am living...
or not living.
THE ONLY RELIEF I HAVE IS MY CAMERA.
I got it back from the shop;
it still does not work right.
It is worse than before.
THE REPAIR COMPANY COULD NOT FIND A SINGLE ISSUE WITH IT.
I AM STILL USING IT,
drawn to it;
IT SPEAKS WORLDS BEYOND WHAT I CAN TYPE HERE.
I managed to take a few shots in the woods that day. They are not my usual style.
I AM COMPELLED BY SOMETHING WITHIN.
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I'M HAVING SOME TROUBLE, RECENTLY...
distinguishing reality from my dreams.
Ever since I saw the Man in the Long Coat in my slumber, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him.
HE OCCUPIES EVERY SINGLE SLEEPING MOMENT.
All of my dreams. And even now, as I'm pretty certain that I am awake...
his memory is a vivid presence in my mind.
I'm drawn more towards my passion than ever before.
IT'S ALMOST LIKE AN OBSESSION.
IF I DON'T CREATE…
AM I AWAKE OR NOT?
Also, I'm not sure how exactly to describe this feeling, but it seems as if...
the Man in the Long Coat is a dark friend who is pushing me towards greatness with my art.
HE IS HAUNTING MY WORK,
a friendly reminder of life's contrasts.
Dark and light.
Morning and night.
I'VE TAKEN SOME MORE PHOTOGRAPHS.
My camera is in the shop with that light metering issue so I've resorted to using my cell phone.
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I have not been compelled to pick up my camera for quite some time now. Over an entire year without one image captured on my SD card.
PHOTOGRAPHY CAN BE A DIFFICULT MEDIUM.
Inspiration needs to be in direct proximity in order for anything to come to fruition, let alone satisfy my own standards.
I felt magnetized to my camera after a bizarre dream I had:
IT STARTED OUT IN THE WOODS BEHIND THE HORSE FARM.
I AM STRUGGLING WITH MY LENSES AND FRAMING A FORGIVING COMPOSITION.
I feel eyes on me.
Silence, the crunch of the sticks beneath my feet and the smell of burnt leaves...
God, it was very deceiving...
I turned and saw a seemingly disjointed [redacted]. I was drawn to open it and fearful of its possible disappearance.
It took a push but the [redacted] creaked open, almost independently, and there was a long...
and I mean long and dark [redacted].
The feeling of someone watching me grew and I rushed, frantic down the [redacted].
THEN I SAW HIM.
THE MAN IN THE LONG COAT.
I could see the outline of him, but no details. He was shining a [redacted] onto a long [redacted].
My footstep brought a sudden thud that echoed throughout the small [redacted] and immediately the Man in the Long Coat turns to look me in the face.
It was so fast but I saw just....
THE SHAPE OF HIS BLACK AND GREY, SUNKEN EYES -
the [redacted] engulfed his body and he was gone. And I woke up.
I went out for a shoot after the dream with a friend who had been bugging me for months to visit some abandoned buildings.
I took this image.
NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I CHANGED THE SETTINGS...
opened up the aperture...
cranked up the ISO....
THE DARKNESS EMBODIED THE PICTURE.
These two things are probably unrelated.