Adrian Maples
Bio
Stories (3/0)
Letters To Morgan
Morgan, Hi. My name is Emmanuel Teijeiro. I just heard you got 40 years. This makes no sense to me. Murderers get less time than that and you guys were children that were neither crazy or criminals but programmed telepathically by a cult and I think it might be beneficial for me to offer insight into the missing details. The cult formed in 1984 and comprised of three children all under the age of 10. The name of the cult was Candle Cove, the same name as a creepypasta found on the Reddit forum thread /nosleep where you encountered one of their programs known as Slenderman. The original cult did no work outside of making agreements which were then peripherally received and adopted by rotating writers. In 1992 the cult director now age 16 reformed the cult in Kalamazoo by writing a new script called Slenderman, a nickname members of his family had given him in early childhood which he was not fond of so he demonstrated in this script exactly why. The names of three children were written in this script. Morgan Geyser, Anissa Weier, and the girl you stabbed. In 1992 you didn't exist beyond names written on this page which was read by three people then burned. It was a short script. It said that you would sneak out during a sleepover and stab your best friend nearly to death by instruction of a voice in your head then start walking in the direction of a distant forest under the impression that you would find Slenderman and his house there. The administrators of the Forum thread have no knowledge of the existence of this script or who wrote it and technically he doesn't exist because that person was me and I'm 42 years old now. It's helpful to understand that in 1992 my 16 year old self wasn't thinking very clearly either but we are adults now so if this note even ever reaches your hand in light of the circumstances maybe it will fix the error that occurred here. In my mind I was doing this as a psychic attack on the tobacco industry. In the eighties the term Slenderman was street slang in reference to a cigarette and also carried a host of other senses including a facilitator of underage smoking, an advertiser, male genitalia, and a demon that lures children into the forest and turns them against each other who could be summoned by a witch also referenced by this term. The way I figured it since we were minors we would all get away with this and the peripheral shock would reach the heart of its true target whoever that was at that time, I can't tell you now because honestly I don't remember, it was 26 years ago. I just don't feel you should be accountable for some cryptic shit I did when I was 16 and for the record I have no connection to any of the creepypasta people or /nosleep thread users. I'm just a dude that was really pissed off when Nickelodeon bought out Pinwheel and turned my perfect children's programming haven into a goddamn advertising circus for Hasbro toys because I was fully aware even back then that advertising human trafficking tobacco and homicide are all the same animal that kind of looks like this to a child:
By Adrian Maples3 years ago in Criminal
Ghostbusterbuster's Playlist
My name is Adrian. This isn't my legal name. I have an appointment to change it at the courthouse in two weeks. I was a prolific songwriter in my childhood. I continued writing songs in my adulthood but nowhere near as much. I was a teenager between the years 1989 and 1995. When I was thirteen I was still listening to oldies on the radio but gradually started picking up on pop as a result of flipping through the stations on my own when the airspace wasn't occupied by my parents or siblings. I lived in Chicago and the station I eventually stumbled into and hung out with mostly at that time was Q101, the alternative rock station. I still flipped over for a fix of oldies and also fell into spells with the hiphop stations B96 and Z95, which was also simultaneously mainly a rock station where I'd hear stuff like Guns N Roses and David Lee Roth. I was also a fan of programs on NPR. My tastes were fairly eclectic. One day I stumbled into a dirty damaged NWA cassette on the sidewalk in my neighborhood and got into rap too. My folks hated it. An interesting thing that happened while listening to the alt. stations was hearing my own songs, which progressively occurred with greater frequency in passing time. I would point out that a song playing on the radio was mine but my folks dismissed or ignored the sentiment and these experiences just became distant echoes. Sometimes though, I liked the songs and they'd become my favorite songs, and many of my favorite songs were my own songs. It was strange I guess but this is how it was. When I got to high school, I became aware that an underground cult following of some description was following me around so I delivered more songs through them until I dropped out of high school and ran away from home, continuing to write songs from Ann Arbor Michigan. When I wrote songs, I signed them with the names of the artists I wanted them to go to instead of my own and to this day have been formally credited with nothing since my identity has remained largely undisclosed. Things happened this way because I was raised by criminals, but I myself am not a criminal. I'm just a songwriter who wrote a lot of songs you might have heard. I recently began logging original author memoirs connected to these songs which are collecting in a working autobiography draft and also on a YouTube channel. If I posted them here, the word count would grossly exceed the entry quota. I'll share one lyric backstory here with you, though. Just one. This is the backstory to Stay Gold, released by and currently formally credited to First Aid Kit.
By Adrian Maples3 years ago in Beat