u/Equivalent_Glass_463

Today, I'll be going out to get some new shoes, and then have a big lunch at a local restaurant. I heard they have good burgers there, so I'm very excited. Having fun on my birthday already!

Twerkipedia Wiki | Fandom

Today, I'll be going out to get some new shoes, and then have a big lunch at a local restaurant. I heard they have good burgers there, so I'm very excited. Having fun on my birthday already!

Long story short, they thought my content was too inappropriate, and it wasn't. It's been almost two weeks, but I'm not giving up hope.

For more context, please read (and maybe consider signing) my petition (linked in comments). Thank you.

P.S. How is this related to Thomas, you may ask? Well, I would consider myself something of a Thomas YouTuber because I would often upload Thomas-related content and stuff, so there's that. One of my proudest Thomas-related works so far was a narration dubbing of Thomas & Gordon, which I did to celebrate the shows 40th anniversary. I've also been planning to make bigger forms of content on my channel, such as my own fan episodes/stories and stuff like that.

August 18, 2026 - Originally posted on r/sadposting on the same day (today)

That's how old I'll be tomorrow. I've always looked forward to celebrating my birthday, and I still do. But this year, it feels a little different.

Usually, I have the full day on my birthday to have fun and engage in whatever celebration my family arranges for me. I'm forever grateful to them for all of that. But tomorrow, I'm not going to be free all day, because I have a shift at work that I accepted a couple weeks ago. My shift goes from 4 to 9 PM, so I will have the entire morning and first half of the afternoon to have some fun, but in the end, it still won't be the full day.

I'm sure if I wanted to, I could just call out of work tomorrow and give myself the entire day. But even if my co-workers and boss understood and let me have the day off, I still can't bring myself to call in because of how starved I've been this month for paychecks. Furthermore, I can't seem to shake off some somewhat minor-but-annoying unwanted thoughts from my head, but that's a whole other discussion I'd rather not share (not right now at least).

However, there is something I will admit. I know countless others that are my age or around it have made these kinds of statements before (even if not word-for-word), but I have so many mixed emotions about being a year older, and the most dominating ones are sorrow and nostalgia. I'm not necessarily saying I "regret" being somewhat eager to grow up when I was younger, like the rest of us, but at the same time, I have no idea how else to put it. I graduated college three months ago, and I've had a great summer, mixed with working, enjoying the typical summer activities, and spending time with friends and family.

But over these past few months, I never talked much to my family about what I wanted to do for my birthday. I told them to just surprise me with whatever kind of celebration they could come up with, and I would just see where it went from there. And now that my big day has creeped up, I'm starting to feel upset that I won't have the full day to have all the fun I want. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I just can't seem to bring myself as much joy out of so many great things I have, as they did when I was younger.

I guess I just don't want to keep growing up. Not because I don't believe I can amount to anything, but because, in one way or another...I don't want to. To put in hard work at a real job, to get out of my own comfort zone, or even following my dreams of achieving notability in this life, feels like I have to give up so much of myself to the point where I can't enjoy the good things if they're not going to be around forever. I often wonder how much happier I'd be if I never had to prove anything to anyone, knowing that I wouldn't have to waste so much time pleasing others when I would rather enjoy loving myself. While it's not my intention to come off as selfish by saying that, I can't find any words that would make it sound non-selfish.

Bottom line, I miss being a kid. I crave to spend the rest of my days having fun with my inner child and being able to enjoy the things that make me feel good without thinking of others' perspectives of being afraid of judgement. Feeling these emotions and having these thoughts at such a time when I'm meant to look forward to celebration feels so unique to me, even though I'm not the only person in existence to experience it.

Even wrapping up this post, it feels like there's so much more I could say. If there's anything selfless about this message, I want it to be that anyone else that shares these same feelings and thoughts know that they are not alone. Bottling them up will only make you feel worse. I know it sounds cliche, but it's true. Whether you openly admit it or not, deep down, you know that every last one of us has these experiences, and there is nothing wrong with that. It shows how connected we are, and how much we mean to each other.

I'm still kinda struggling to lift up my own spirits, so if anyone would like to chip in with their own feedback, I'd like that a lot.

Thank you so much.

August 18, 2026 - Originally posted to r/sadposting on the same day (today)

That's how old I'll be tomorrow. I've always looked forward to celebrating my birthday, and I still do. But this year, it feels a little different.

Usually, I have the full day on my birthday to have fun and engage in whatever celebration my family arranges for me. I'm forever grateful to them for all of that. But tomorrow, I'm not going to be free all day, because I have a shift at work that I accepted a couple weeks ago. My shift goes from 4 to 9 PM, so I will have the entire morning and first half of the afternoon to have some fun, but in the end, it still won't be the full day.

I'm sure if I wanted to, I could just call out of work tomorrow and give myself the entire day. But even if my co-workers and boss understood and let me have the day off, I still can't bring myself to call in because of how starved I've been this month for paychecks. Furthermore, I can't seem to shake off some somewhat minor-but-annoying unwanted thoughts from my head, but that's a whole other discussion I'd rather not share (not right now at least).

However, there is something I will admit. I know countless others that are my age or around it have made these kinds of statements before (even if not word-for-word), but I have so many mixed emotions about being a year older, and the most dominating ones are sorrow and nostalgia. I'm not necessarily saying I "regret" being somewhat eager to grow up when I was younger, like the rest of us, but at the same time, I have no idea how else to put it. I graduated college three months ago, and I've had a great summer, mixed with working, enjoying the typical summer activities, and spending time with friends and family.

But over these past few months, I never talked much to my family about what I wanted to do for my birthday. I told them to just surprise me with whatever kind of celebration they could come up with, and I would just see where it went from there. And now that my big day has creeped up, I'm starting to feel upset that I won't have the full day to have all the fun I want. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I just can't seem to bring myself as much joy out of so many great things I have, as they did when I was younger.

I guess I just don't want to keep growing up. Not because I don't believe I can amount to anything, but because, in one way or another...I don't want to. To put in hard work at a real job, to get out of my own comfort zone, or even following my dreams of achieving notability in this life, feels like I have to give up so much of myself to the point where I can't enjoy the good things if they're not going to be around forever. I often wonder how much happier I'd be if I never had to prove anything to anyone, knowing that I wouldn't have to waste so much time pleasing others when I would rather enjoy loving myself. While it's not my intention to come off as selfish by saying that, I can't find any words that would make it sound non-selfish.

Bottom line, I miss being a kid. I crave to spend the rest of my days having fun with my inner child and being able to enjoy the things that make me feel good without thinking of others' perspectives of being afraid of judgement. Feeling these emotions and having these thoughts at such a time when I'm meant to look forward to celebration feels so unique to me, even though I'm not the only person in existence to experience it.

Even wrapping up this post, it feels like there's so much more I could say. If there's anything selfless about this message, I want it to be that anyone else that shares these same feelings and thoughts know that they are not alone. Bottling them up will only make you feel worse. I know it sounds cliche, but it's true. Whether you openly admit it or not, deep down, you know that every last one of us has these experiences, and there is nothing wrong with that. It shows how connected we are, and how much we mean to each other.

I'm still kinda struggling to lift up my own spirits, so if anyone would like to chip in with their own feedback, I'd like that a lot.

Thank you so much.

August 18, 2026

That's how old I'll be tomorrow. I've always looked forward to celebrating my birthday, and I still do. But this year, it feels a little different.

Usually, I have the full day on my birthday to have fun and engage in whatever celebration my family arranges for me. I'm forever grateful to them for all of that. But tomorrow, I'm not going to be free all day, because I have a shift at work that I accepted a couple weeks ago. My shift goes from 4 to 9 PM, so I will have the entire morning and first half of the afternoon to have some fun, but in the end, it still won't be the full day.

I'm sure if I wanted to, I could just call out of work tomorrow and give myself the entire day. But even if my co-workers and boss understood and let me have the day off, I still can't bring myself to call in because of how starved I've been this month for paychecks. Furthermore, I can't seem to shake off some somewhat minor-but-annoying unwanted thoughts from my head, but that's a whole other discussion I'd rather not share (not right now at least).

However, there is something I will admit. I know countless others that are my age or around it have made these kinds of statements before (even if not word-for-word), but I have so many mixed emotions about being a year older, and the most dominating ones are sorrow and nostalgia. I'm not necessarily saying I "regret" being somewhat eager to grow up when I was younger, like the rest of us, but at the same time, I have no idea how else to put it. I graduated college three months ago, and I've had a great summer, mixed with working, enjoying the typical summer activities, and spending time with friends and family.

But over these past few months, I never talked much to my family about what I wanted to do for my birthday. I told them to just surprise me with whatever kind of celebration they could come up with, and I would just see where it went from there. And now that my big day has creeped up, I'm starting to feel upset that I won't have the full day to have all the fun I want. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I just can't seem to bring myself as much joy out of so many great things I have, as they did when I was younger.

I guess I just don't want to keep growing up. Not because I don't believe I can amount to anything, but because, in one way or another...I don't want to. To put in hard work at a real job, to get out of my own comfort zone, or even following my dreams of achieving notability in this life, feels like I have to give up so much of myself to the point where I can't enjoy the good things if they're not going to be around forever. I often wonder how much happier I'd be if I never had to prove anything to anyone, knowing that I wouldn't have to waste so much time pleasing others when I would rather enjoy loving myself. While it's not my intention to come off as selfish by saying that, I can't find any words that would make it sound non-selfish.

Bottom line, I miss being a kid. I crave to spend the rest of my days having fun with my inner child and being able to enjoy the things that make me feel good without thinking of others' perspectives of being afraid of judgement. Feeling these emotions and having these thoughts at such a time when I'm meant to look forward to celebration feels so unique to me, even though I'm not the only person in existence to experience it.

Even wrapping up this post, it feels like there's so much more I could say. If there's anything selfless about this message, I want it to be that anyone else that shares these same feelings and thoughts know that they are not alone. Bottling them up will only make you feel worse. I know it sounds cliche, but it's true. Whether you openly admit it or not, deep down, you know that every last one of us has these experiences, and there is nothing wrong with that. It shows how connected we are, and how much we mean to each other.

I'm still kinda struggling to lift up my own spirits, so if anyone would like to chip in with their own feedback, I'd like that a lot.

Thank you so much.

First submitted to Creepypasta Wiki on July 10, 2026. Loosely inspired by The Amazing Digital Circus.

6:30. Sharp. She was just waking up from 7-8 hours of sleep, as usual. It wasn't exactly a peaceful slumber, and she still felt tired when waking up, but she was satisfied at getting the bare minimum almost every night despite struggling to make herself doze off in the last hour before her scheduled bedtime. One thing that made her feel dully content, was rejecting the idea of a "perfect" night's sleep, for she wouldn't have to waste so much time chasing for nonexistent excitement that wasn't worth even the smallest sense of anticipation. Not if it couldn't last, anyway.

Denise followed her routine. She had her jentacular spread of eggs, bacon, and baked potatoes on toast before brushing her teeth, followed by doing her hair and makeup. It was now 7:30, and Denise was sitting in her office room, attending a virtual meeting with her newest clients while simultaneously working on her spreadsheets and self-help book. The latter was seen as "satirical, but effective" by the test readers that were her friends and family, or at least what was left of them after a long time; her best friend had unexpectedly moved to New York after college, and her parents, while still supporting her neutrally, hardly called anymore. What could have happened, she thought.

It was during the last few minutes of the meeting that Denise started to feel it. What she noticed was something unlike she had ever felt before, even to the point where she wondered if it was something that anyone else could feel. One moment, she was being her usual, eerily monotonous self, and the next, she was feeling different not only about her surroundings, but how she perceived them. Everything felt...unfamiliar.

Impossible. Denise knew how her life worked. Every detail was supposed to click with her, and yet, all of a sudden, it all felt new again, but not in a good way. The world she saw around her looked just like it was supposed to, and the environment behaved exactly as it should. Even the media she consumed was the very same, from the news channels to her streaming services. It was real... but not.

She fed her questions to every search engine she could find, but none of them could give her the answers she needed. They just kept referring her to shrinks that looked more stereotypical than those in the most generic Hollywood hits from the mid-to-late-20th century. Denise had tried counseling before, and it never worked for her mind or her wallet. Even the highest-rated therapists would lead her in a loop that teases you with the idea of getting close to the goal, only to throw you back to square one without warning.

Feeling a sudden rush, Denise rose from her chair and entered the most intense brisk of her life. She walked right out of her front door and took to the sidewalk. As she traversed the area, she looked around, observing as much detail as possible, no matter how big or small. Every last building, street sign, vehicle, cloud, fellow pedestrian, all of it should have felt normal and familiar, and it looked just like it was supposed to. But that was the problem: it looked right, but looking is not the same as feeling. There had to be more than what Denise's own mind was letting on, and that was saying something, considering her history.

After walking for ten whole miles, in what was definitely twice the time she ran her 8K in state champs, Denise found it. The nearly run-down house at the edge of the woods. The temporary residence she and family friends would claim while on vacation. One of New England's finest. It was her second most-remembered childhood place, right behind her old home. Yet here she was, wondering why she couldn't grasp the memories she shared with it. Why did it feel so out of place here now?

Presently, a couple walked by. Denise asked them if they knew if anyone lived in the house anymore, to which they said they didn't, and continued on their way. She hadn't expected anyone else's input to be of any help, but she felt some control over her sanity by having it anyway. With nothing visibly stopping her, she walked up to the house. She engaged in a pattern of knocking on the door three times, looking both ways at the surrounding neighborhood, and repeating the two-step cycle a few more times. After the third time, she tries the knob, and it was unlocked. If she were in a classic cheesy gorefest motion picture, this would have creeped her out, but here, when reality was making too much sense, she at least expected some taboo moments of ridiculousness.

Denise stepped inside. In spite of the interior having seen better days, she stood firm, determined to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was happening. As she explored (or re-explored) the downstairs rooms, she felt like she was playing two different parts: A determined detective investigating a scene, and a calculated estate agent trying make the best possible pitch. She knew that acting that this would make her seem suspicious, but that was just what she wanted, so the universe would acknowledge that she wasn't a drone more mindless than what the administrations and enterprises used to peep on the average Joe or Jane.

Eventually, she wandered upstairs. The floorboards creaked ever so softly. Denise was cautious, but she still remained unphased by the atmosphere. She peered into each room she walked by, but didn't bother going into most of them, not because they all looked similar, rather they all felt similar in category. Save for the one room at the edge of the hallway she did enter.

She remembered this room just as much as her own bedroom as a kid, if not slightly less. It was just as she last left it, from the tea party table setup to the makeup station she used with her friends, siblings, and even her high school flame. He had taken up bending the norms from that point, eventually leaving her for a burlesque mistress in the Town of Tinsel. If only she had taken drama little more serious just for a chance to win him back.

Denise rummaged through the bedside table drawer. Nothing. She garnered the same results from every other dresser and box. Annoyed, she was about to turn back out, when she saw one last box. A small one. Never seen before. She picked it up and examined it scrupulously and gingerly, before finally opening it. A small sheet stared back at her, with a single word. By itself, it was jumbled, reading "Tɘϱɿoʇ." Usually, this is where the lead would gather with the group to find the word in some "magic" scripture, in typical cryptic fashion. Denise wouldn't even have to fumble through the smallest scriptorium in Connecticut, let alone the country. She already knew what it was.

What it meant.

Dropping the paper, she speedily stepped out of the room, down the stairs, and back out of the house, entering another walking rush, this time every so slightly faster. It was now the sunset hour, and Denise was walking back home at the time she should have been on her balcony. Everyone who passed her gave her looks, but not of confusion. Instead, they seemed to show gestures of approval, as if her behavior was supposed to be giving off a favorable atmosphere. While this bothered her, it pressured her to keep moving so she could be away from them quicker.

When she finally arrived back at her house, she walked right in and locked all the doors and windows. Even though it was fairly dark, she still drew all the curtains and blinds. Her entire day had been more eventful than every last second of her life so far combined. All that was needed now was a means to communicate. Denise hastily set up her devices, running all of her socials. She needed to reach all audiences, not only regardless of identity, but also of morality; anyone that was either "good," "bad," and everything in between needed to hear this. When she was ready, she started recording, and began.

"If you are hearing, seeing, or feeling this, then I am gone. That's how all of them are, but not this one. I will still be here when you see this, but you won't know. It sounds terrifying, but it's not what should be scaring you. Be afraid not of what this message means, but rather of what happens when you blend knowing nothing with knowing too much. I could explain myself here and now. I want to. But I shouldn't, because, chances are... you already know."

Just as she was about to stop the recording, she saw it. There, in the background of her recording, was the figure. It bore no resemblance to your average horror movie killer, ARG entity, analog monster, or anything other. This wasn't a breakthrough for the world, but for the universe, as no other living thing had taken on such a shape. It was so unique, that trying to replicate it through any form of art was beyond impossible, even obliterating the boundaries of the term.

The figure's outline was a person, like any other that had walked the earth. Simple. Its shape was anything but. What Denise saw in this thing was something that shouldn't be possible, but simultaneously \*was\*. The form was not just one; it was an amalgamation of every human being in existence, past, present, and future. From complete strangers to her friends, family, and even herself. Seeing them all the same time.

Denise stared into the eyes of the figure for a moment longer through the camera, before grabbing her extra ring light rod. She gripped it firmly, ready to strike. As her mind raced, she called out "Lights on," before jolting around and swinging the stick. She closed her eyes and shouted boldly as she swung in the entity's direction. As soon as she heard the thud, she stopped, breathing heavily and keeping her eyes closed for a few more seconds. When she opened them, the first thing she saw was the rod she was pressing down on her bed. She looked up.

Nothing.

Was it never there? Did it escape? There was no way to tell, even though both were possible. Denise dropped the rod, her hands shaking. They never did before, or at least not in a long time if they did. And there she was, in that moment, afraid and alone. She was just beginning to feel that all her efforts were in vain. That her message would be dismissed, and everything she lived for would have been for not. Just as she was closing her eyes again, barely breaking into tears, she heard it. Behind her.

-Beep-

Her monitor screen had changed. Denise sat down to get a closer look. Before her was a login page. No logo, no company name, just a blank profile icon and the credential inputs below it. It asked not for a username, but for a real name. Denise hardly hesitated by putting in her name. As for the password, she didn't have to think at all about it. Mentally unscrambling the note from earlier, she entered it, and pressed enter. The screen took a few seconds to load upon the info being entered.

But when it finally reached the next screen. Denise gazed at the text before her, and smiled.

Welcome back...

Denizen

Originally posted on r/seriousconversation July 22, 2026

In relation to other posts I've made about my reluctance to continue maturing/adulting, I want to share another idea I've often thought about.

What is the point of human society? I mean, for the past hundreds of thousands of years, we've been the only species on this blue and green dot that have structure, while pretty much all other organisms have unlimited freedom from expectations (not counting the ones we domesticated and all that shit). Yeah, all other animals have to focus on surviving, but they don't have to think about ANYTHING if they don't want to. They can do anything about having to:

\* Pay for anything (traveling, food, etc.)

\* Wait for anyone or anything

\* Get approval

\* Consider societal norms (biggest example coming to my mind is mannerisms; you can't tell me you aren't annoyed by other people calling out small "bad" manners that we all do every day without thinking so deeply about it)

\* Worry about rules/laws, because it doesn't apply to them.

\* And so on.

If I were to wake up tomorrow and was informed that society had been completely abolished, you couldn't imagine how thrilled I'd be. First thing I'd do? I'd just go. Nothing packed, no specific destination in mind, just away from everything and out into the wild. To be free of all shackles and traverse the plains, woods, seas, and mountains with nothing holding me back would be the greatest achievement ever. At least for me.

Would I miss some of the good things that came out of organized civilization (prepared food, the internet, social interaction, entertainment, etc.)? Sure, for a while, maybe. But I'd be too busy enjoying this new level of practically unlimited freedom to care that much. Hell, we can make our own entertainment, wherever and whenever we want, with absolutely no pressure from deadlines or agreements that often take away creative freedom. With not one single person or entity to be the boss of me, there's no limit to the possibilities of what I can do.

This is most definitely my autism talking, but sometimes, I feel like almost every law and regulation under the sun is an insult to human potential in terms of adventure. You have to admit that one of the biggest reasons that travelling around the world is so difficult, especially today, is because they have all these rules that prohibit you from going to specific places without specific permission. Is it really fair that we have to pay for tickets just to go to places that other animals can just walk, swim, or fly to for free? In my brutally honest opinion, I don't really think so.

And if you REALLY dig through your thoughts, every single rule that we're expected to follow was just made the fuck up. One day, it was okay to just take whatever you wanted, and the next, some scribbles said "nah that's illegal now." So, should everything become legal (in the sense of all law just ceasing to exist completely), I would be able to rest my mind knowing that I'd never have to answer for anything, whether or not I was aware of doing something that was against the rules. I'm not saying I would do anything super dramatic like off anyone (even though nothing would be preventing me in this hypothetical "society-less" world), because, even with all of this in mind, I still have some moral agency. On that note, I would still avoid doing any harm to certain people in my life, mostly family, my closest friends, and even potential romantic interests (or could I technically call them "mates"? Probably). As for strangers or people that would pose a threat to me and others? That would be a different story.

Well, it looks like I'm rambling again. I could add more, but this feels like a good place to pause. Who knows if I decide to add more to it, but right now, I will just take a breather from getting all of this out of my system. I can't stop you from interpreting this however you like, and I'd probably take it with a grain of salt if I was the reader instead of the writer, but I don't think you need to take this too seriously, as it's mainly a rant and the product of feelings I have about the world based on my experiences. Still, I am open to feedback, as always, and I hope that we can all learn something from this about ourselves, myself included.

That's all for now. Peace.

Originally posted on r/seriousconversation c. July 23, 2026

In relation to other posts I've made about my reluctance to continue maturing/adulting, I want to share another idea I've often thought about.

What is the point of human society? I mean, for the past hundreds of thousands of years, we've been the only species on this blue and green dot that have structure, while pretty much all other organisms have unlimited freedom from expectations (not counting the ones we domesticated and all that shit). Yeah, all other animals have to focus on surviving, but they don't have to think about ANYTHING if they don't want to. They can do anything about having to:

* Pay for anything (traveling, food, etc.)

* Wait for anyone or anything

* Get approval

* Consider societal norms (biggest example coming to my mind is mannerisms; you can't tell me you aren't annoyed by other people calling out small "bad" manners that we all do every day without thinking so deeply about it)

* Worry about rules/laws, because it doesn't apply to them.

* And so on.

If I were to wake up tomorrow and was informed that society had been completely abolished, you couldn't imagine how thrilled I'd be. First thing I'd do? I'd just go. Nothing packed, no specific destination in mind, just away from everything and out into the wild. To be free of all shackles and traverse the plains, woods, seas, and mountains with nothing holding me back would be the greatest achievement ever. At least for me.

Would I miss some of the good things that came out of organized civilization (prepared food, the internet, social interaction, entertainment, etc.)? Sure, for a while, maybe. But I'd be too busy enjoying this new level of practically unlimited freedom to care that much. Hell, we can make our own entertainment, wherever and whenever we want, with absolutely no pressure from deadlines or agreements that often take away creative freedom. With not one single person or entity to be the boss of me, there's no limit to the possibilities of what I can do.

This is most definitely my autism talking, but sometimes, I feel like almost every law and regulation under the sun is an insult to human potential in terms of adventure. You have to admit that one of the biggest reasons that travelling around the world is so difficult, especially today, is because they have all these rules that prohibit you from going to specific places without specific permission. Is it really fair that we have to pay for tickets just to go to places that other animals can just walk, swim, or fly to for free? In my brutally honest opinion, I don't really think so.

And if you REALLY dig through your thoughts, every single rule that we're expected to follow was just made the fuck up. One day, it was okay to just take whatever you wanted, and the next, some scribbles said "nah that's illegal now." So, should everything become legal (in the sense of all law just ceasing to exist completely), I would be able to rest my mind knowing that I'd never have to answer for anything, whether or not I was aware of doing something that was against the rules. I'm not saying I would do anything super dramatic like off anyone (even though nothing would be preventing me in this hypothetical "society-less" world), because, even with all of this in mind, I still have some moral agency. On that note, I would still avoid doing any harm to certain people in my life, mostly family, my closest friends, and even potential romantic interests (or could I technically call them "mates"? Probably). As for strangers or people that would pose a threat to me and others? That would be a different story.

Well, it looks like I'm rambling again. I could add more, but this feels like a good place to pause. Who knows if I decide to add more to it, but right now, I will just take a breather from getting all of this out of my system. I can't stop you from interpreting this however you like, and I'd probably take it with a grain of salt if I was the reader instead of the writer, but I don't think you need to take this too seriously, as it's mainly a rant and the product of feelings I have about the world based on my experiences. Still, I am open to feedback, as always, and I hope that we can all learn something from this about ourselves, myself included.

That's all for now. Peace.

**First submitted to Creepypasta Wiki on July 10, 2026. Loosely inspired by The Amazing Digital Circus.**

6:30. Sharp. She was just waking up from 7-8 hours of sleep, as usual. It wasn't exactly a peaceful slumber, and she still felt tired when waking up, but she was satisfied at getting the bare minimum almost every night despite struggling to make herself doze off in the last hour before her scheduled bedtime. One thing that made her feel dully content, was rejecting the idea of a "perfect" night's sleep, for she wouldn't have to waste so much time chasing for nonexistent excitement that wasn't worth even the smallest sense of anticipation. Not if it couldn't last, anyway.

Denise followed her routine. She had her jentacular spread of eggs, bacon, and baked potatoes on toast before brushing her teeth, followed by doing her hair and makeup. It was now 7:30, and Denise was sitting in her office room, attending a virtual meeting with her newest clients while simultaneously working on her spreadsheets and self-help book. The latter was seen as "satirical, but effective" by the test readers that were her friends and family, or at least what was left of them after a long time; her best friend had unexpectedly moved to New York after college, and her parents, while still supporting her neutrally, hardly called anymore. What could have happened, she thought.

It was during the last few minutes of the meeting that Denise started to feel it. What she noticed was something unlike she had ever felt before, even to the point where she wondered if it was something that anyone else could feel. One moment, she was being her usual, eerily monotonous self, and the next, she was feeling different not only about her surroundings, but how she perceived them. Everything felt...unfamiliar.

Impossible. Denise knew how her life worked. Every detail was supposed to click with her, and yet, all of a sudden, it all felt new again, but not in a good way. The world she saw around her looked just like it was supposed to, and the environment behaved exactly as it should. Even the media she consumed was the very same, from the news channels to her streaming services. It was real... but not ~~really~~.

She fed her questions to every search engine she could find, but none of them could give her the answers she needed. They just kept referring her to shrinks that looked more stereotypical than those in the most generic Hollywood hits from the mid-to-late-20th century. Denise had tried counseling before, and it never worked for her mind or her wallet. Even the highest-rated therapists would lead her in a loop that teases you with the idea of getting close to the goal, only to throw you back to square one without warning.

Feeling a sudden rush, Denise rose from her chair and entered the most intense brisk of her life. She walked right out of her front door and took to the sidewalk. As she traversed the area, she looked around, observing as much detail as possible, no matter how big or small. Every last building, street sign, vehicle, cloud, fellow pedestrian, all of it should have felt normal and familiar, and it looked just like it was supposed to. But that was the problem: it *looked* right, but looking is not the same as feeling. There had to be more than what Denise's own mind was letting on, and that was saying something, considering her history.

After walking for ten whole miles, in what was definitely twice the time she ran her 8K in state champs, Denise found it. The nearly run-down house at the edge of the woods. The temporary residence she and family friends would claim while on vacation. One of New England's finest. It was her second most-remembered childhood place, right behind her old home. Yet here she was, wondering why she couldn't grasp the memories she shared with it. Why did it feel so out of place here now?

Presently, a couple walked by. Denise asked them if they knew if anyone lived in the house anymore, to which they said they didn't, and continued on their way. She hadn't expected anyone else's input to be of any help, but she felt some control over her sanity by having it anyway. With nothing visibly stopping her, she walked up to the house. She engaged in a pattern of knocking on the door three times, looking both ways at the surrounding neighborhood, and repeating the two-step cycle a few more times. After the third time, she tries the knob, and it was unlocked. If she were in a classic cheesy gorefest motion picture, this would have creeped her out, but here, when reality was making too much sense, she at least expected some taboo moments of ridiculousness.

Denise stepped inside. In spite of the interior having seen better days, she stood firm, determined to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was happening. As she explored (or re-explored) the downstairs rooms, she felt like she was playing two different parts: A determined detective investigating a scene, and a calculated estate agent trying make the best possible pitch. She knew that acting that this would make her seem suspicious, but that was just what she wanted, so the universe would acknowledge that she wasn't a drone more mindless than what the administrations and enterprises used to peep on the average Joe or Jane.

Eventually, she wandered upstairs. The floorboards creaked ever so softly. Denise was cautious, but she still remained unphased by the atmosphere. She peered into each room she walked by, but didn't bother going into most of them, not because they all looked similar, rather they all felt similar in category. Save for the one room at the edge of the hallway she did enter.

She remembered this room just as much as her own bedroom as a kid, if not slightly less. It was just as she last left it, from the tea party table setup to the makeup station she used with her friends, siblings, and even her high school flame. He had taken up bending the norms from that point, eventually leaving her for a burlesque mistress in the Town of Tinsel. If only she had taken drama little more serious just for a chance to win him back.

Denise rummaged through the bedside table drawer. Nothing. She garnered the same results from every other dresser and box. Annoyed, she was about to turn back out, when she saw one last box. A small one. Never seen before. She picked it up and examined it scrupulously and gingerly, before finally opening it. A small sheet stared back at her, with a single word. By itself, it was jumbled, reading "Tɘϱɿoʇ." Usually, this is where the lead would gather with the group to find the word in some "magic" scripture, in typical cryptic fashion. Denise wouldn't even have to fumble through the smallest scriptorium in Connecticut, let alone the country. She already knew what it was.

What it meant.

Dropping the paper, she speedily stepped out of the room, down the stairs, and back out of the house, entering another walking rush, this time every so slightly faster. It was now the sunset hour, and Denise was walking back home at the time she should have been on her balcony. Everyone who passed her gave her looks, but not of confusion. Instead, they seemed to show gestures of approval, as if her behavior was supposed to be giving off a favorable atmosphere. While this bothered her, it pressured her to keep moving so she could be away from them quicker.

When she finally arrived back at her house, she walked right in and locked all the doors and windows. Even though it was fairly dark, she still drew all the curtains and blinds. Her entire day had been more eventful than every last second of her life so far combined. All that was needed now was a means to communicate. Denise hastily set up her devices, running all of her socials. She needed to reach all audiences, not only regardless of identity, but also of morality; anyone that was either "good," "bad," and everything in between needed to hear this. When she was ready, she started recording, and began.

"If you are hearing, seeing, or feeling this, then I am gone. That's how all of them are, but not this one. I will still be here when you see this, but you won't know. It sounds terrifying, but it's not what should be scaring you. Be afraid not of what this message means, but rather of what happens when you blend knowing nothing with knowing too much. I could explain myself here and now. I want to. But I shouldn't, because, chances are... you already know."

Just as she was about to stop the recording, she saw it. There, in the background of her recording, was the figure. It bore no resemblance to your average horror movie killer, ARG entity, analog monster, or anything other. This wasn't a breakthrough for the world, but for the universe, as no other living thing had taken on such a shape. It was so unique, that trying to replicate it through any form of art was beyond impossible, even obliterating the boundaries of the term.

The figure's outline was a person, like any other that had walked the earth. Simple. Its shape was anything but. What Denise saw in this thing was something that shouldn't be possible, but simultaneously *was*. The form was not just one; it was an amalgamation of every human being in existence, past, present, and future. From complete strangers to her friends, family, and even herself. Seeing them all the same time.

Denise stared into the eyes of the figure for a moment longer through the camera, before grabbing her extra ring light rod. She gripped it firmly, ready to strike. As her mind raced, she called out "Lights on," before jolting around and swinging the stick. She closed her eyes and shouted boldly as she swung in the entity's direction. As soon as she heard the thud, she stopped, breathing heavily and keeping her eyes closed for a few more seconds. When she opened them, the first thing she saw was the rod she was pressing down on her bed. She looked up.

Nothing.

Was it never there? Did it escape? There was no way to tell, even though both were possible. Denise dropped the rod, her hands shaking. They never did before, or at least not in a long time if they did. And there she was, in that moment, afraid and alone. She was just beginning to feel that all her efforts were in vain. That her message would be dismissed, and everything she lived for would have been for not. Just as she was closing her eyes again, barely breaking into tears, she heard it. Behind her.

\-Beep-

Her monitor screen had changed. Denise sat down to get a closer look. Before her was a login page. No logo, no company name, just a blank profile icon and the credential inputs below it. It asked not for a username, but for a real name. Denise hardly hesitated by putting in her name. As for the password, she didn't have to think at all about it. Mentally unscrambling the note from earlier, she entered it, and pressed enter. The screen took a few seconds to load upon the info being entered.

But when it finally reached the next screen. Denise gazed at the text before her, and smiled.

*Welcome back...*

***Denizen***

It's pretty cool. Feel free to check it out.

Originally started on January 17, 2023.

Originally started on November 16, 2022.

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