(no subject)
it's just been one of those days... one of those fun days that feels like it'll never end.
now taking up a neutral opinion on the subject, i'll try and explain. a while ago a friend of mine, erika, failed her spanish class and didn't graduate. she's taking a summer course, but that's besides the point. the insanity that ensued led to every single one of her friends, and my friends, basically abandoning her for a bunch of pitiful reasons. so this morning sarah, one of the girls in question, asked me my opinion... bad idea. one does not ask me my opinion unless they are fully prepared to hear it. so i gave it to her. she ended up crying the whole morning and toni (other girl in question), is pissed at me. which is fine, i'm not feeling like it's that much of a loss right now.
they all feel so... i dunno... cold. like they offer nothing but discomfort and pain. but if they want to know what it's like to be hated, to be despised and shunned, if they want to know what it truly feels like to not exist i can make that happen.
at least i've got decemberunderground and rhiannon to keep me company. i've listened to it i think over 2 times now... since tuesday. i like it, i think it's a good cd. not as good as sing the sorrow was, but still good.
i'm also writing another short story right now
Type your cut contents here.
It’s funny how things turn out in the end. When we’re growing up and playing silly games like cops and robbers, we always want to be the good guys. And when we’re not, we’re the noble felons that do bad things for good reasons. Do we lose sight of that when we grow up, or does it just change?
Maybe it’s demented, but those are the things I think about while I’m stabbing a person in the chest. I know it’s sick to think such things at times like this, but I can’t help but wonder if I no longer care about morality or if it’s just a slightly different take on the same subject. Is it wrong that her screaming gives me a rush like that? Is it wrong that when I go home, I feel like a stranger in my own home? Is it wrong that when I wash the blood off my hands, I feel a pang of regret that it’s all over?
You see, right now I’ve got this girl by the hair, her names Susan and she lives on Broadway Street. Her numbers irrelevant now, but it’s 555-9903. she’s screaming at me, about how she’ll give me money, give me possessions, give me anything. What she doesn’t know is that all I want to do is take her life. That’s all I want. Is that so wrong? and yet she struggles. They all struggle. For some reason these humans are so afraid of death. It’s so simple, so easy really. I should know, I’ve watched a hundred times over. I know all the faces, I know all the pleas, all the screams, all the sounds. That’s probably my favorite part too, the struggle. If they just gave it to me it wouldn’t be as fun.
it's far from done, but that's what's up so far. it was really fun to write, which is really creepy actually.
i think that may be the biggest post i've made in a long time. which reminds me... my anual rant will be coming up soon, how exciting. i have nothing in mind for it this year... but i'm sure i'll think of something. feedback apreciated.
-me
now taking up a neutral opinion on the subject, i'll try and explain. a while ago a friend of mine, erika, failed her spanish class and didn't graduate. she's taking a summer course, but that's besides the point. the insanity that ensued led to every single one of her friends, and my friends, basically abandoning her for a bunch of pitiful reasons. so this morning sarah, one of the girls in question, asked me my opinion... bad idea. one does not ask me my opinion unless they are fully prepared to hear it. so i gave it to her. she ended up crying the whole morning and toni (other girl in question), is pissed at me. which is fine, i'm not feeling like it's that much of a loss right now.
they all feel so... i dunno... cold. like they offer nothing but discomfort and pain. but if they want to know what it's like to be hated, to be despised and shunned, if they want to know what it truly feels like to not exist i can make that happen.
at least i've got decemberunderground and rhiannon to keep me company. i've listened to it i think over 2 times now... since tuesday. i like it, i think it's a good cd. not as good as sing the sorrow was, but still good.
i'm also writing another short story right now
Type your cut contents here.
It’s funny how things turn out in the end. When we’re growing up and playing silly games like cops and robbers, we always want to be the good guys. And when we’re not, we’re the noble felons that do bad things for good reasons. Do we lose sight of that when we grow up, or does it just change?
Maybe it’s demented, but those are the things I think about while I’m stabbing a person in the chest. I know it’s sick to think such things at times like this, but I can’t help but wonder if I no longer care about morality or if it’s just a slightly different take on the same subject. Is it wrong that her screaming gives me a rush like that? Is it wrong that when I go home, I feel like a stranger in my own home? Is it wrong that when I wash the blood off my hands, I feel a pang of regret that it’s all over?
You see, right now I’ve got this girl by the hair, her names Susan and she lives on Broadway Street. Her numbers irrelevant now, but it’s 555-9903. she’s screaming at me, about how she’ll give me money, give me possessions, give me anything. What she doesn’t know is that all I want to do is take her life. That’s all I want. Is that so wrong? and yet she struggles. They all struggle. For some reason these humans are so afraid of death. It’s so simple, so easy really. I should know, I’ve watched a hundred times over. I know all the faces, I know all the pleas, all the screams, all the sounds. That’s probably my favorite part too, the struggle. If they just gave it to me it wouldn’t be as fun.
it's far from done, but that's what's up so far. it was really fun to write, which is really creepy actually.
i think that may be the biggest post i've made in a long time. which reminds me... my anual rant will be coming up soon, how exciting. i have nothing in mind for it this year... but i'm sure i'll think of something. feedback apreciated.
-me