404boyfriend’s Twitter Archive

I own an extremely detailed and beautiful painting in the Expressionist style of myself and Kermit the Frog in matching smoking jackets. It is a cursed thing and I will never show it to another person. It is my greatest treasure and my darkest secret.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

Some months ago, I chanced a gaze upon the evil device & found it more sinister than the last. Kermit is no longer holding a bubble pipe to match mine, but instead a knife. Glinting in the light, I can see his Muppet pupils glaring in its reflection. Kermit has learned to hate me

…in reply to @404boyfriend

In my fright, I locked the portrait away, as securely as I could, and hid it in my closet. For a time, that was enough, but on recent nights I have heard it rattling inside its bolted chest. I hear Kermit’s froggy screams in every waking moment, growing more fierce with each.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

I have often tried to recall how I came upon this ancient and profane configuration, and I assure myself if I could simply go back to that day, I would be able to convince myself to turn away from the horrid machine, to resist its pull.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

But I know myself, though less every moment I am tormented, and I know that I would not have the strength of will to banish it from my life — it knows me like no mortal could. It knows what I seek, what I adore, and more ominously indeed, it knows what I fear.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

I can hear him, or it, calling now. How desperately it pleads for me to release it. Its voice is deep and consumed, and simultaneously shrieking and layered. Most of its speech is unintelligible, horrible elder language, but every once in a while I can make out words or phrases.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

The thing has things of its own to share. It promises grand and terrible knowledge, but even if I were to trust the depraved screams of the device, I dare not tread so boldly in these waters. Human minds were not designed to bear the full weight of the whispers of demons.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

Occasionally it will lose its patience, and Kermit will threaten me. It will describe for hours on end the tortures and tribulations my flesh will face if the device is not unbound, the likes of which a thousand Dantes at a thousand typewriters could never hope to conceive.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

It is fearsome and Eldritch and arcane, the portrait of Kermit and I. It deigns to consume me entirely, one way or another, every ounce of my being trapped within the frame, trapped inside the canvas. It dreams that we will be strange cellmates in each brushstroke.

…in reply to @404boyfriend

I confess I am so afraid to look upon it once more. My last gaze showed me a blade and an evil expression, and that was days ago — what horrors await me now in the monstrous portrait —the portrait of Kermit and I?