Microblog Memes

I (aurally) witnessed a kindergartener get run over by her school bus. I was on a different bus and our bus drivers were talking over the radio, then there was this ungodly wailing from the other bus. The other bus driver just kept screaming "I killed her, I killed her".

Turns out the little girl barely missed the bus, ran alongside it to catch up, tripped, and fell under the wheels of the bus.

Once we got to high school, students on the killing bus were offered counseling. I, not being on the killing bus, didn't talk to anyone about it until I went to therapy decades later.

Yellow school buses freak me out still, for that and abuse reasons.

I was in a locker room three months ago minding my own business when this oddly looking guy next to me struck up a conversation. He looked old and incredibly skinny, but you could tell his face was younger. Maybe it's a skin condition like Ehlers-Danlos, I thought.

Well, the guy was in his early thirties and said the reason for his condition was that he had been recently freed by a cartel. He had been kidnapped for years, kept without food or proper hygiene, basically working as a slave. And then he showed me a picture of himself from three years ago on his phone. He has the incredible phisique of a Greek god, beautiful face, with a six pack and well developed muscles. And there he was, skinny, thin as a pencil and with loose, aged skin.

He recounted how he had used his smarts to survive. He had been forced to kidnap others, forged friendships with his captors and even made important suggestions to the leaders to create alliances with other cartels. He was damn good at the job making people fall into the trap, schmoosing the right people and getting out of situations. He said he was honestly one of the best they had, according to him.

He went on about how he had been tortured, kept in a cellar, worked tirelessly from dawn til dusk, and then released one day. And then he told me he he still had friends in the cartel to this day.

That's when I found a break 20 minutes in of this guy trauma dumping on me and I noped the fuck out of there with some bullshit excuse. Never in my life have I ever been so scared, sad, sorry and flabbergasted of someone recounting their life story.

I'm so sorry that some people in this thread have much worse nightmares than I have. I don't recall having any nightmares that you might call visually grotesque.

When I was in High School, I apparently discovered that looking at a person signals interest in the person, and that it's possible to look at something in this way on accident, or at least without conscious planning. From this I concluded into a mild obsession to basically be conscious of what I am looking at at almost every point in time. In hindsight, it feels kind of like the "you are now breathing manually" meme. This basically only happened with two people, along with it slightly reinforcing my bias against looking at girls, because I'm probably gay anyway, let them not get any ideas.* (this thought is completely stupid in any other way than being moderately considerate. it probably didn't do anything anyway, because I'm not very socially active and had approximately 1-2 friends.)

• The girl who sat on the mirror-opposite side of the room from me in math class, which, If I didn't change seats on purpose, which I did when possible, basically put her in the center of my default field of view when not looking at the teacher. (Seating and desk arrangements in my country are very exciting.) She was really good at staring back, which is basically why I noticed that people care when they're being looked at. I don't really know whether she did this on purpose. I had nothing in common with her that would count as knowing her personally, but we did look pretty similar, so much that some people just told me this without being asked. She's the only person wearing a tie on one of the photos from graduation. I didn't feel a legitimate reason to care much, but basically, I cared because of how much I was constantly thinking about not looking at her. To my friend, I expressed myself as being kind of scared of her, though I never really said that I was scared that anyone capable of critisizing me would find out how much space this bullshit took up in my mind sometimes, or misrepresent this as being attracted or something. I also remember believing at some point that she was behind me on my way to school, (in some parts of europe, people bike to school,) as well as just actually seeing her on some paths beyond doubt, and thinking a moderate amount about what path she takes the least, which might just have been all of them, because of how rarely I saw her on the way.
• The other guy isn't really at fault or anything. He's still really nice to be with now that I've gotten over this somewhat, though I see him rarely, which probably contributed to the brainworms spreading.

*(I cultivate an off-internet bonus genre of brainworms where being asexual reinforces my faux-antiquated fear of being perceived as attracted to someone, which may or may not make sense)

When I was 13 I helped the local burnout mow lawns. He was late 20's and hung out with us teenagers from the same block. Got us weed, bought us beer. The 16yo guys I looked up to were friends (?) with him, he'd hang in the backyard fort of the lead 16yo, and he basically ran the local lawn mowing cartel of all us kids. I wanted money and it was easy and fun, hangin' with the boys. We shoveled walks in the winter.

One snowstorm morning he wasn't at the fort where we'd meet so I volunteered to run across the street to his house. Knock. Knock loud. Try the door, he didn't mind if we came in his basement entrance to his parent's house. It's dark, light on in the bathroom. 13yo me saw his first dead body that day; full bathtub with slit wrists and neck.

E: oh, reason for suicide seemed to be that he had a DUI wreck a couple months prior where a young girl (like 7 or 8) didn't die but wouldn't ever be the same... like couldn't walk or brain damage or something. He couldn't handle what he did, I guess.

When I was a kid (18?), one night a friend of my friend called us to come give this drunken girl a ride. They said they were at a party and the guy took some time to babysit her and take her home but he couldn't handle her anymore.

We went and picked her up and were going to take her wherever in the area she wanted to go as a solid for this guy. She got in the car and started berating us and trying to turn up the volume and complaining about the music. She said she had sucked dick and whatever other mess and wasn't going to put up with our shit this evening. She was much more intoxicated than I thought she would be. She requested to be taken to her car and she started giving us directions. She said she was going to sleep it off in the car so her parents wouldn't know. We planned to take her keys and come back later or something. We were honestly blindsided by how ridiculous everything got so quickly.

Turns out her car was parked at a local recycling center or something and when we pulled in there, there was a brand new Cadillac, lights came on car started. She said it was probably her grandpa. We let her out and started driving away so that they could figure it out, we wanted to be done. Grandpa didn't even stop to let her in the car or get her in her own car or anything. He immediately started following us. He tailgated us all the way down the highway back to my friend's house with his brights on. We drove normally but tried to concoct a plan. We pulled up the driveway at my friend's place about 15 minutes later and he stops short a few car lengths into the driveway.

I kind of lost it at that point and walked down the driveway to ask him what the hell he was thinking and he steps out of the car standing behind the driver side door. As I come up to him to give him a piece of my mind he raises his hands and he has a pistol pointed right at me. I guess being young and full of adrenaline I absolutely went off on him yelling what the hell did he think he was doing pulling a gun on this we were just trying to give his granddaughter a ride we didn't even really know her. I mean I got right up in his face. I can't believe I did that in retrospect, I would never do that now. After I yelled at him he dropped his hands and looked confused. Said "What was I supposed to do?" I'll never forget those words.He quickly got in his car and started to turn around. I tried to block his car so I could call the police but as I started to get on the phone he punched it and ran over my foot. Thankfully I moved to just enough to the side that it didn't really do anything. Cops showed up later and the officer stood around for a while talking to us and getting statements. He said that we have to go down to the magistrate downtown to do anything about this.

We went there and the magistrate asked us a bunch of the same questions. He did some paperwork stuff and essentially concluded that the guy who pulled a gun on me had already come by and filed a report that we were threatening him and that the two conflicting statements would cancel each other out - nothing would happen to either of us. Come to find out later on that the man who pulled a gun on me was a retired police chief from the area, very well known, who owned a local car wash. He had a sketchy past and I guess this was just another day in the life of a police officer abusing power.

I look back and think what the hell was that girl doing? Was she actually being taking advantage of? Did the friend of a friend know that would happen so he set us up to take the fall for it? Was he the abuser? Was she just being sloppy and shitty and he didn't want to get in trouble? How in the world did those things cancel each other out especially with no investigation into it. They couldn't have. I'll never forget that. I never talked to that idiot friend of a friend again and I never saw police officers the same either.

The guy who first showed me D&D when I was a kid went on to rape and murder a 90 year old woman who lived down the street during a botched robbery.

By coincidence, I inherited the RAM and CPU from the work computer of a guy who later shot up my workplace. Luckily he was the only one killed in the shooting. I still use the kit from the shooter to run my home server.

When I used to be spiritual I had a very small cult following of 12 people whose extreme believe in my lies actually showed me how frigthening Religion is.

I'm, in fact, not a horse. I only pretend to be one on the Internet.

I have scars around and on my genitals. When I was young my mom told me that I had surgery just after I was born. Now as an adult, I think I may have been born with some sort of intersex condition but I am afraid to talk to my parents about it.

Probably not as interesting, but I was woken up as a kid (teen?) by my mom screaming and running into my room/in my bed. Woke up to see my dad standing in the doorway with a steak knife. She had asked him to go to rehab. That was it. We're good though 🤙🏾

I witnessed a fatal lathe accident. The kind that would have easily been featured in rotten.com back in the day. They shut the whole shop down and noone worked for a month. It was awful.

Once put one of those plastic wrapped potatoes in my uniform apron to put back in produce at my first retail job (got abandoned in the mac and cheese section). I then completely forgot and took it home. Took it out of my apron and put it on my desk next to my car keys because "I'll remember to take it back". I did not. Lived with me for a week or something when I finally put it in my apron again because I wasn't remembering. I took it to work. I completely forgot about it and never returned it. It made this trip several times. I put it back on my desk because this wasn't working out, surely I'll remember if I see it.

Then I forgot about it for like three months. One day I look over at my desk and it's a shriveled potato with a new potato growing from its own husk...

In essence, potatoes are amazing and horrifying. Just like my short term memory lol.

I was very close to either dying or having permanent brain damage due to a stun grenade in a protest in my country. While being a completely unarmed, non-violent and basically running away/hiding protestor.

I was with a friend and a bunch of people outside our campus. Everything was peaceful and then, out of nowhere things got bad, with stun grenades and tear gas everywhere. We were used to it, but that time the tear gas was so bad that the neutralizer we brought was doing nothing. We took cover with a wall (bad idea, but we were panicking badly), and I wasn't able to breath, so I wanted us to run away from there. I told my friend to let's just run certain way, and I was so full of adrenaline and ready to run, but he stopped me. 1 second later, a stun grenade fell from the sky just 1 m away of us, in the direction I wanted us to run; no doubt it would have hit me in the head.

After that I just took his hand and we ran away, not able to see nor breath. Me holding his hand was a huge saver for both of us, as we could, more or less, guide each other. We ran some 20-30 m and just fell to the ground, but in a somewhat safe place. We crawled some 10 m more and just rest there. It took us some solid 15 minutes to catch our breath. Never said a word to my family about the whole incident.

Fun times.