Blood drenched sunrise
Spelling, whoopidy doodidy doo, like I would ever give a flying fuck about how I spell. I mean who the fuck does she think she is, super intela-masta-writa? Bah, I don’t need her advice I’ll follow my own goddamn rules, that’s what everyone successful seems to do anyway. What would I do following every single construction? And that’s not even going into all the blah blah bullshit that seems to follow me everywhere, my writing needs some work I’ll give it that, but other than that, I think I’m decent enough, even though no one else seems to believe in me, oh what the hell. I can do whatever I want it is my life anyway, its mine to piss away. I suppose that is my right and if writing fucks me, fine, I’m fucked. Simple. At least I died trying instead of sitting here wondering if I could or could not.
This is most likely me just trying to get rid of the creeping fear that has been running through my veins. That terror that is the unforeseen future. What could I possibly do with something so powerful to overcome? Oh no, it’s only space and time, easy right? Fuck it. I don’t even know what im doing right now, I should be typing up what I already have written, but instead im here, writing this shit for my journal, which no one will read, because no one gives a fuck, but then again, it’s not like I do either.
So late, why am I not tired? Not that I mind, I should get used to not getting sleep. It will help college life along. Or help me become a zombie, whichever is easier.
I think im finally starting to become tired, Hah, and I’ve only begun. I really need a system that forces me to write like this. It really helps just to bleed on paper. I should probably do it more often, heh, like I’ll ever get the chance. I’ve so much shit to catch up on this week. Going home is probably not going to happen, at least not tomorrow morning. Stupid bitches can clean their own goddamn house.
What am I turning into, that angry writer that was just burning to get out from the beginning? Or is it something else, maybe im just tired, yea that’s it, im tired.
I’ve been on the Slipknot boards for awhile, not getting a lot of maggot support, I was always afraid to post there to see what the real answer might be. I guess I was wrong, nothing new. I was thinking about rethinking my tattoo but no matter what, I still feel that the slipknot tribal symbol still suits me, even if im the only maggot left. Nothing can really fill that void except Kitsune, when she’s around that is.
Suns coming up, I guess its about time the vampire boy went to sleep. I actually wouldn’t mind a coffin to sleep in, it might make me feel a little more alive. Tonight im just dead tired, dead.
Also, if someone ever advertises to you that a book entitled “Guilty Pleasures” contains sex or sexy situations they are filthy liars . . . I’m looking at you David.
Well that’s the end of that. Oh and don’t worry about your loveable Necromancer, he’s doing well on my hard drive. If you’re really interested just email me at my super sexy new Rockford College email address . . . or just AIM me you fuckers, im still The Blades Pulse.
Dritschel@Rockford.edu
This is most likely me just trying to get rid of the creeping fear that has been running through my veins. That terror that is the unforeseen future. What could I possibly do with something so powerful to overcome? Oh no, it’s only space and time, easy right? Fuck it. I don’t even know what im doing right now, I should be typing up what I already have written, but instead im here, writing this shit for my journal, which no one will read, because no one gives a fuck, but then again, it’s not like I do either.
So late, why am I not tired? Not that I mind, I should get used to not getting sleep. It will help college life along. Or help me become a zombie, whichever is easier.
I think im finally starting to become tired, Hah, and I’ve only begun. I really need a system that forces me to write like this. It really helps just to bleed on paper. I should probably do it more often, heh, like I’ll ever get the chance. I’ve so much shit to catch up on this week. Going home is probably not going to happen, at least not tomorrow morning. Stupid bitches can clean their own goddamn house.
What am I turning into, that angry writer that was just burning to get out from the beginning? Or is it something else, maybe im just tired, yea that’s it, im tired.
I’ve been on the Slipknot boards for awhile, not getting a lot of maggot support, I was always afraid to post there to see what the real answer might be. I guess I was wrong, nothing new. I was thinking about rethinking my tattoo but no matter what, I still feel that the slipknot tribal symbol still suits me, even if im the only maggot left. Nothing can really fill that void except Kitsune, when she’s around that is.
Suns coming up, I guess its about time the vampire boy went to sleep. I actually wouldn’t mind a coffin to sleep in, it might make me feel a little more alive. Tonight im just dead tired, dead.
Also, if someone ever advertises to you that a book entitled “Guilty Pleasures” contains sex or sexy situations they are filthy liars . . . I’m looking at you David.
Well that’s the end of that. Oh and don’t worry about your loveable Necromancer, he’s doing well on my hard drive. If you’re really interested just email me at my super sexy new Rockford College email address . . . or just AIM me you fuckers, im still The Blades Pulse.
Dritschel@Rockford.edu