The Sort-of Secret Diary of C. L. Hayes

[justwingit]

So. Once upon a time I was bored, and vaguely thought that I'd done a lot of writing Hayes, surprisingly little stuff that really ... gets into his head, so to speak. And nothing from first-person. And thus, because I have no life, I started scribbling stuff.

Thus this blight upon the surface of the world was produced.



Hi.

Alright, dammit, that's just sad. Uh.

Hi, I'm Hayes.

This is not Alcoholics Anonymous.

Hello. C. L. Hayes, secret agent. Hayes, Clarence Hayes-- NO.

Hi, I'm Hayes, and I just wasted a bunch of inches of paper.

Hi, I'm Hayes, and I missed the memo about snazzy beginnings that Grab Readers Attention. Why I won't write a book. (Not a problem, though, secret agents don't need to do novel-writing. I think. Unless you're doing, I don't know, an autobiography or something

Hi. I've got an extra spiral notebook from god knows where, and I'm bored.

Still bored.

Aren't these things supposed to be, I don't know, witty and deep and full of Insights and stuff? Life-changing events and crap? Uh, let's see, interesting stuff.

Hi, my name is Hayes and I'm a secret agent. (Interdimensional peacekeeping something-or-other, actually. Whatever. I secret agent with the best of them. Haha CI-freaking-A.)

My parents named me Clarence and so traumatized me from a young age. Too much information.

Whoever said freewriting's good for you was an idiot.

Uh. So. Coffee. How about that caffeinated beverage?