(no subject)
We still kill the old way. Take them by the hair and drag them along the ground, over the rocks until they stop screaming.
The best laid plans always seem to go to waste.
Beach was not as promised. Jibbed. Got stoned alone in the garage. (Aidan, your friend was right, people who get stoned do always seem to talk about it. It's lame. I should stop.)
It was kind of nice though. Me, Tyrone and Katie took the scenic route back from the beach. It was still sunny, and we had ice creams. I want ice cream. I want ice cream right now.
You know those moments where you just crave other peoples company? Friendship and intimacy, a cuddle or even just someone stroking your shoulder. It's actually kind of Vampiric. People feed off each other. Or symbiotic. We need each other to live. You can paint things any way you want. We're all a little like Countess Bathory. We die a little in the sunlight, we go to extreme measures to avoid losing our youth. Maybe I should do a rewrite of the story of Countess Bathory in a modern setting, where she has cosmetic surgery and harvests the fats and materials out of younger girls, aspiring models who go to her for guidance. She hacks off their hair to make extensions for her own. When they catch her and bring her in, they identify the hair of more than 350 seperate people woven into her own.
On that note, I'm going to go read Buffy Fanfiction. Or Harry Potter. Or any genre you feel like recommending.
The best laid plans always seem to go to waste.
Beach was not as promised. Jibbed. Got stoned alone in the garage. (Aidan, your friend was right, people who get stoned do always seem to talk about it. It's lame. I should stop.)
It was kind of nice though. Me, Tyrone and Katie took the scenic route back from the beach. It was still sunny, and we had ice creams. I want ice cream. I want ice cream right now.
You know those moments where you just crave other peoples company? Friendship and intimacy, a cuddle or even just someone stroking your shoulder. It's actually kind of Vampiric. People feed off each other. Or symbiotic. We need each other to live. You can paint things any way you want. We're all a little like Countess Bathory. We die a little in the sunlight, we go to extreme measures to avoid losing our youth. Maybe I should do a rewrite of the story of Countess Bathory in a modern setting, where she has cosmetic surgery and harvests the fats and materials out of younger girls, aspiring models who go to her for guidance. She hacks off their hair to make extensions for her own. When they catch her and bring her in, they identify the hair of more than 350 seperate people woven into her own.
On that note, I'm going to go read Buffy Fanfiction. Or Harry Potter. Or any genre you feel like recommending.