Creative writing or just my mind losing the line of sanity.
Well todays 666, sadly I was expecting more. When the town siren went off saying it was noon, I'd half hoped the world would disapear and I would be taken into a darker more twisted reality, sadly I was mistaken. Anyways, I got bored last night (much like every night) and started writing, I guess I could call it an experiment in creative writing. Now it's not going to be well written or anything but it was something I did out of boredom.
I'd just killed twelve people and was walking down a corridor looking for a place to smoke (it just seems so rude to smoke indoors) and after what seemed like an hour I finally found a door that led outside to a stairwell. Now you must be thinking, "what the fuck man, get the hell out of there!" Well I'm not too worried about any of that. Because out of everything, the one thing I'm good at (great at if I do say so myself) is my job. No one's gonna find those bodies for at least another 5 hours, by then that stench of shit, piss and rotting flesh will seep out of the room and someone will notice and complain (by then I'll be long gone), then they'll send someone in and find the mess I made. Anyways, while I'm out on the stairwell lighting up a no. 27 blend I just happened to look down and on the ground in front of me is this four inch long (it was probably more like an inch and a half) cockroach staring up at me. I got to thinking how are people any better than these fuckin' bugs? I mean fuck, they don't go killin' eachother or nothin', jus' livin' their own little lives (an interesting thing about roaches is I hear they can survive a nuclear blast, like they know we're gonna fuckin' blow ourselves to shit someday. Pricks!) Anyways I started to wonder what this fuckin' bug was thinking, looking up at me with a smoke in my mouth puffin' away. Probably something like, "fucker doesnt even care that shit is killing him." Then I got to thinking, if some mother fucker dropped a nuke right now that fucking bug would keep on living, feasting on my fuckin' corpse. I looked up for a bit, then back down at the cockroach and said, "fuck that, and fuck you!" I squashed that fucking roach, finished my smoke and headed to Denny's, they have good chicken friend steak, damn good.
I'd just killed twelve people and was walking down a corridor looking for a place to smoke (it just seems so rude to smoke indoors) and after what seemed like an hour I finally found a door that led outside to a stairwell. Now you must be thinking, "what the fuck man, get the hell out of there!" Well I'm not too worried about any of that. Because out of everything, the one thing I'm good at (great at if I do say so myself) is my job. No one's gonna find those bodies for at least another 5 hours, by then that stench of shit, piss and rotting flesh will seep out of the room and someone will notice and complain (by then I'll be long gone), then they'll send someone in and find the mess I made. Anyways, while I'm out on the stairwell lighting up a no. 27 blend I just happened to look down and on the ground in front of me is this four inch long (it was probably more like an inch and a half) cockroach staring up at me. I got to thinking how are people any better than these fuckin' bugs? I mean fuck, they don't go killin' eachother or nothin', jus' livin' their own little lives (an interesting thing about roaches is I hear they can survive a nuclear blast, like they know we're gonna fuckin' blow ourselves to shit someday. Pricks!) Anyways I started to wonder what this fuckin' bug was thinking, looking up at me with a smoke in my mouth puffin' away. Probably something like, "fucker doesnt even care that shit is killing him." Then I got to thinking, if some mother fucker dropped a nuke right now that fucking bug would keep on living, feasting on my fuckin' corpse. I looked up for a bit, then back down at the cockroach and said, "fuck that, and fuck you!" I squashed that fucking roach, finished my smoke and headed to Denny's, they have good chicken friend steak, damn good.