Cryptidcore

monday, september 10th: arson

Today Warren Miller lit a painting of his (recently ex) girlfriend on fire in the courtyard outside Ms. Duke's room during fifth period and almost burned down the school. It was awesome.

Imagine: Warren Miller in denim cut offs and that ratty red flannel without the sleeves, cigarette poking out of his mouth, dropping matches onto his surprisingly life-like painting of Delia Jung's face.

He's suspended now.

I'm also suspended now. Apparently lighting matches and chanting Light it up, light it up! is a suspend-able offense.

Madelyn was happy to remind me of all the consequences of having suspension on my record (oh no, what will colleges think HA) — but to be honest, I'm relieved I get to sleep in for the next three days.

Anyways, this whole story is just to say that my mom sent me to therapy today. She must have called up friends at the hospital to get me in as a favor or something. Emergency therapy for her arsonist delinquent daughter.

The therapist was thirty-five-ish probably and super hot and stylish with her glasses and her notebook and her pencil skirt. She took one look at me and said "you seem bored," to which I was like Yeah. Duh. 

And then she basically told me to get a hobby. Like I'm a 45 year old father of three. Thanks for your professional advice.

So then three hours later I'm about a third of the way through a box of donuts, watching X-Files re-runs on Hulu, when Madelyn calls and wants to know what I talked about in therapy.

Nosy, yes, but that's Maddie.

So I told her all about my hot therapist and how she recommended I get a hobby, thinking, like an idiot, that we would laugh at oblivious, well-meaning adults and then we'd carry on to whatever drama happened at school after I was sent home.

I should have known better. Maddie has about a thousand hobbies and they'll all look amazing on her college transcripts. If she had it her way I'd become like deeply invested in photo journalism or I don't know writing music or something. I could practically hear her fantasizing about watching me perform at open mics.

So I decided to start a stupid blog.

The way I figure it, I'm technically following instructions — alone, in my bedroom, where no one can bother me. Plus, the likelihood of anyone reading this is like basically nil. Nobody reads blogs unless they're lost looking for where the lasagna recipe starts.

So there mom and Maddie and hot therapist — I have a hobby. I'm a blogger now. So hip. I can feel myself morphing into a minimalist DIY vegan lifestyle blogger already. I'll be promoting $300 crystal water bottles before you know it.

Idk how to end a blog

Xoxo lmao ☠️

AUTHORS NOTE

Hi, this is Tilly -- I'll be popping in at the end of Shiloh's original posts to make any relevant comments. And as always, I'll include the link to her original blog so you can see the whole, unedited post if you want to. 

shutupshiloh.com/2018/09/06/the-journey-begins/