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ChristmastideThe cottage hearth beams warm and bright,
The candles gaily glow;
The stars emit a kinder light
Above the drifted snow.
Down from the sky a magic steals
To glad the passing year,
And belfries sing with joyous peals,
For Christmastide is here!
Candy Apple Punch
6 cups cranberry-apple drink
3 cups water
15 hard cinnamon candies
1 (6-ounce) can thawed limeade concentrate, undiluted
Combine all the ingredients in a large pitcher. Cover and chill 8 hours or until candies are dissolved. Pour mixture into a large Dutch oven, and cook over medium heat until thoroughly heated
The Creepypast Survival Guide1.Mirrors and darkness don't mix.
2.Actually mirrors are a general "NO", In creepypasta world, there is nothing more sinister.
3.There is zero chance of survival if you look at the thing that no one else can see or answer its question incorrectly.
4.If you are alone at night in a creepy mental institution, take some time to consider what the fuck are you doing there, then, if it is appropriate to do so, leave.
5.Avoid going to places where everyone else who went there never came back or died inexplicably.
6.If someone stops your vehicle at night and asks to come with you, it would probably be in your best interests to politely decline.
7.Killing is the last method of survival, use it sparingly but without fear.
8.WHO WAS PHONE? is always a good thing to ponder. Also who the hell answers a phone while kissing a dead person's sexy daughter. A douche is who.
9.Get a simple .38 revolver. Load it with 2 silver bullets. If you really feel there is no chance to come alive out of a situation,
CreepyPasta- Two years agoYou've been dating your girlfriend almost two years now. You often stay late over the summer and on weekends and arrive home long after the rest of your family go to sleep.
Every night, you drive the deserted rural roads back home from a pleasant evening at her house, but you become overwhelmed by fears that you will arrive home to find your family dead in their beds. Each night, you peek into your sister's room and see she's fine and hear the reassuring rumble of your father's snore as you pass your parents' door.
You chuckle at your silly worries and drift off to sleep. Finally, one morning, you decide to tell your mother about your late-night fears amidst some jovial conversation for a nice laugh. As you tell her, a concerned look comes over her face. She sweeps the hair away from her face as she says,
"Oh honey, you know we were all shot almost two years ago."
You scream as you see the gaping bullet hole in her forehead.
Lost Episode - Boss RossBefore Bob Ross had a career television show, he shot his own home videos from his basement. This was even before he was in the Air Force. His brother, Jim Ross, recovered most of the tapes from Bob's ex-wife's home in 1995 before the fire that burned it down. There was one particular home video that disturbed him greatly, which he describes in the following text.
Most of Bob's tapes were almost generally the same as The Joy of Painting. They were fun to watch as this was an earlier version of his work and he had more of a cartoonish style back then.
I remember the last tape I watched. The video was labeled 'Joy of Painting' so I assumed that's where the title for his show came from. The tape started the same, typical way you'd see on the real show. He was smiling in his basement with a blank canvas and a cart of paints, ready to spill his imagination and make it come to life.
I noticed most of the paints on his palette were of dark reds and blacks; there were no blues, yellows, or any
CreepyPasta- One of ThemAny night, around ten or eleven PM, take yourself to a flat, open area where you can walk in a straight line for two minutes or so without running into anything. Once there, face in the direction you plan to walk, with your arms at your sides and your hands relaxed. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. At precisely 11:09 and 20 seconds, start walking. Be sure to take one step every second - no more, no less. Do not open your eyes, and do not hesitate. Count your steps in your head as you go. On the one hundred and eleventh step, say the word, "One," out loud and stop.
Your breath will catch in your throat and your hair will stand on end. For the next ten seconds, you will be unable to move a single muscle in your body, no matter how hard you try. After these ten seconds, you will be able to move and breathe again - however, you will then start to feel the sensation of cold, metal claws seizing each of your fingers by the base and plucking them clean off of your hand. It will not hur
The SpongeBob SquarePants Bootleg Episode
The following is a recording of a suicide note audio tape:
It's just a cartoon, they said. It's just a 2D drawing moving on screen, it can't harm you. Boy, they were wrong.
You might be wondering what the hell I'm talking about. Well, let me tell you quickly, since I just want to get this over with.
It happen a few weeks ago with my friends; *****, ******, ******, and **** (These bleeps here are the name of the person's friends. He, himself, who wrote this, has his own name censored due to legal reasons, the only thing we can tell you is that there were four males and one female) We were on an urban exploration – well, not an official one. We were into those things called “Lost Episodes” which were allegedly episodes from popular children cartoons that were either never aired or completely banned. Take the example: 'The Ren & Stimpy Show' which ironically does hav
Creepypasta: Future TenseCreepypasta: Future Tense
I knew something was wrong from the moment I woke up, namely that I was still dreaming. I had to be. There wasn’t any other explanation for the spectacle that awaited my dazed eyes. An abnormally lucid dream to be sure, and I’d never had a lucid dream before but I was at least familiar with the concept. Everything seemed to be flawlessly material and factual, from the flickering red numbers on my digital clock-radio to the individual fibers of my cotton sheets.
But back on topic, you’re probably curious as to what I saw. First I’ll need to briefly acquaint you with the layout of my room. There’s a rather sizable full-length mirror positioned in a straight line across from my bed. Now, in addition to seeing the room itself reflected in the mirror, there was a most unexpected fellow dwelling within the mirror itself. I say “within the mirror” because he was only present as a reflection, facing outwards in a manner that s
Creepypasta: A Household of Four Plus OneCreepypasta: A Household of Four Plus One
“Well, isn’t this a mystery?” June Peterson asked aloud.
The question was entirely rhetorical. June was the only one of the Peterson household who was home at the moment. Alex and Stephanie were off at school and her husband was off on a corporate retreat. But this was more than a bit puzzling. A pair of well-worn men’s shoes which weren’t her husbands, and obviously weren’t hers or the kids, lay discarded in the front hallway. Normally she would have assumed one of her husband’s friends had left them behind by mistake, but he had been out of town for a full three days as of today.
June knelt down and picked up the shoes before examining them. They certainly had seen better days. As she was on her way back to the living room, she noticed something even more abnormal. The door to the crawlspace under the stairs was ajar. When they had first moved into the house it had appeared to be permanently wedged sh
Creepypasta: You Are What You EatCreepypasta: You Are What You Eat
September 14th, 2014
Sleep. I miss sleep more than anything else. You don’t completely understand how much of a necessity it is until you’re reduced to no more than three hours of it each night, I suppose. But I should feel lucky that I can sleep at all. Their screaming keeps much of the staff awake for far longer than I often am.
We still don’t know why they’re always screaming, and may God damn the man who thought to engineer the things with vocal chords. Whoever decided it could possibly be a useful idea to give carnivorous plant-things the ability to vocalize their thoughts was clearly insane. And coming from me that means something. Takes insanity to recognize insanity and all that.
Anyhow, back on topic. The point of all this of course is to see whether a plant with enough specialized cells would be capable of a life similar to one of the lower orders of primates. Because a plant can support nothing similar to a
Creepypasta: How Blessed to be BlindCreepypasta: How Blessed to be Blind
Is there ever any wonder why we look to the sky?
Search in vain?
Where is God?
We don’t know
We fall in space
We can't look down
Death may come
Peace I have found
What to say?
Am I alive,
Am I asleep?
Or have I died?
- KoRn, “Hollow Life”
Parker Jameson didn’t know quite what to make of all this. He seemed to be floating in a never-ending ocean of black flame, all of humanity suspended there with him. Curiously, the umbral inferno left his flesh and clothing intact, and yet Parker could feel it burning at a more base level, searing into his very soul. Wherever the flames danced they would leave behind scorch marks in his mind in the shape of dead gods with unblinking eyes.
He vaguely recalled a life before this one, and seemed to remember that there had been a world before the oceans of black fire. But it all seemed so
Creepypasta: Without a PaddleCreepypasta: Without a Paddle
Lukas Brown was starting to become suspicious, meaning that he was almost beginning to speculate if he should have accepted this unusual solicitation at all. He scarcely knew his neighbour Gray Ridley at all, despite the fact he lived directly next door to him. What the hell could he have possibly been thinking, accepting an invite to a mountain cabin that hadn’t even been aware Gray owned until now? And on top of which, Gray had been behaving downright inexplicably starting from the time when Arranson Carmen had disappeared. Gray had always seemed a bit sullen, but forget out-of-character, he’d been positively walking on air since then! Gray had been chatty and animated the entire drive up to the cabin. His behaviour was categorically un-Gray-like.
As Lukas crawled out of the guest bedroom’s cot he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Lukas reminded himself that just because Gray’s mood had upgraded to a normal level in such a bri
Blackened I remember the world’s reaction when the new land arose from the pounding waters of the sea, a small island barely half the size of New Zealand suddenly appeared in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The island was covered in tall, leafy trees and large, rocky mountains. At first the world was in a mixture of excitement and curiosity, wondering what new adventures the new land held and how it just managed to appear almost overnight with nobody noticing. First there was simply water, and then it was there, land breaking through the water and lying there as if that had been its resting place since Pangaea. Scientists were baffled. Some called it impossible while others searched for a logical explanation to how it came to be.
America was the first nation to send explorers to survey the new land. The explorers had cameras that began filming them as they first stepped foot onto the island, and the cameras sent live footage around the world
Halfassed Micropasta ( Lost mind) Do you ever wake up thinking it was a Tuesday only to be informed it was actually a Thursday with no recognition of the past days? Just little fragments of memories or so you think those are memories of this week. Everyone else just acts normal. Filling you in trying to convince you that you just had a little mind trip and that it really was Thursday, naturally this isn't a big deal since it doesn't affect you. Every day is fairly similar. Part of a schedule you follow.
Do you ever arrive home and take a nice break to release of the struggles you've had this morning? But wait, when your friend, parents, or even co-workers asks you about your day so far did you struggle to remember what did happen? Did you draw a blank?
These are all just little mistakes in our dear program which you unquestionably live by. Glitches in your life we string together into your mind.
Pokepasta: Dead PixelsI will never look at Vaporeon the same way again…
I have loved pokemon ever since I was a kid. My first game was Pokemon Blue Version, given to me by my older brother. I fumbled around with the old game, confused by it at the beginning. But after a while, I got much better at it. By the time I reached Celadon City I was a pro. I made it to the floor of the random building with the pokeball sitting on the desk. I opened it to reveal it was an Eevee! I was so happy. I soon evolved it into a Vaporeon and trained it up all the way to level 100, to the point where I could take down the entire elite four with my precious pokemon. But soon, new games came out, and I found myself playing Blue Version less and less until it started collecting dust on my bookshelf…
TIME SKIP, 9 YEARS
At 15 years old, I was a pokemon wiz by now. I had almost all of the older games (except for the accursed Crystal Version, so hard to find!) and I could beat almost any pokemon game within a day. I also
Fact and FancyHow dull the wretch, whose philosophic mind
Disdains the pleasures of fantastic kind;
Whose prosy thoughts the joys of life exclude,
And wreck the solace of the poet's mood!
Young Zeno, practis'd in the Stoic's art,
Rejects the language of the glowing heart;
Dissolves sweet Nature to a mess of laws;
Condemns th' effect whilst looking for the cause;
Freezes poor Ovid in an iced review,
And sneers because his fables are untrue!
In search of hope the hopeful zealot goes,
But all the sadder tums, the more he knows!
Stay! Vandal sophist, whose deep lore would blast
The grateful legends of the storied past;
Whose tongue in censure flays th' embellish'd page,
And scorns the comforts of a dreary age:
Wouldst strip the foliage from the vital bough
Till all men grow as wisely dull as thou?
Happy the man whose fresh, untainted eye
Discerns a Pantheon in the spangled sky;
Finds sylphs and dryads in the waving trees,
And spies soft Notus in the southern breeze
For whom the stream a cheering carol s
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More