Ghost Brainrot Chronicles

Date: June 13, 2025

Mood: Spiraling, Feral, Delulu, Ghost-coded

I'M BACK AT IT AGAIN. I REPEAT—I'M BACK AT IT AGAIN.

Someone, anyone, please confiscate my phone, laptop, tablet, and any other device capable of playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare edits because I have OFFICIALLY spiraled back into my Simon 'Ghost' Riley obsession. I was doing fine. I was NORMAL. And then BOOM—one edit with a grayscale filter and a slowed reverb Arctic Monkeys song and I fell. I fell HARD.

It always starts so innocently, doesn’t it? A little scroll. A little curiosity. And suddenly I’m clutching my blanket like it’s Ghost’s tactical vest, whispering "you okay, love?" to myself like a deranged Victorian widow. What is WRONG with me. I’m daydreaming about writing him love letters during deployment. I’m imagining us slow dancing in the war zone. I’m planning out his favorite meals for when he gets back from a fictional mission in my HEAD.

I swear, these edits should come with warning labels: "DANGEROUSLY DELUSIONAL. MAY CAUSE CRUSHES ON MASKED, TRAUMATISED, BRITISH MEN."

I’ve rewatched the same 15-second video clip like 37 times. The lighting. The sound design. The tortured breathing. It’s ART. He’s ART. I’m unwell.

I can’t be the only one right?? PLEASE if you're also in the trenches of Ghost brainrot, drop a comment. Let’s suffer together. Or maybe form a support group. Code name: "Task Force 141 Sad Girl Division."

Anyway. That’s all. I just needed to scream into the void. Again.

Love,
Minnie, forever haunted by Ghost's voice and that damn mask.