The end is near, just about here, you can see the multiple paths branching out on the moonlit path.
It's a bit of a gaffe.
In the end times, the endzone of the endgame.
Just killing time until the next end -----
Blubber ass, bubble butt, blubber ass
Leaves in the morning
Never going back home
At least the light dew drip feels fresh
Keeps cool, keeps safe in a shroud of comfort
Before the slow wilting decay
Into the death of a leaf.
(Trying out a new pen)
It's not the ink, it's the paper!
Ah! Feels so smoooooooooothe. :)
Yeah, I think I've always known that this paper sucks ass.
Okay but like... dat TWSBI doe.
Time to recuperate, flush out all the hate.
And yet, I can't stand it when there is nothing to do but wait.
I'm here freewriting to avoid highlighting my neurotic mind.
Fallible falcons wandering over like vultures!
OI oi oi...
At least this pen is lovely
Oh journal... you take so much shit...
Witchcraft on the Nile
In the deep, thick swamps today
When a human lives day to day without a choice are they human anymore?
Water in the street
Feel it flood, pour over the wretches who were unprepared, unloved
Left out for the rain because nobody cared enough
to tell them:
they aren't wanted
they are rejected
they don't fit in
they are unbalanced
they are pitiful to look at
to help them:
find new ground
rehinge their minds
to hold them and say --
-- it'll all be okay.
it'll all be okay.
so they say.
ERMAHGERD DIS PEN IS AMAZEBALLS
nobody here can stand each other but nobody says a thing about it. It's all hidden.
People are bitches.
Which is a really strange statement now that I think about it.
People are not female dogs. But they are bitches.
Do not cross
Um. So I'm graduating today.
I guess that's a good place to start.
I feel like I'm watching myself.
I act, I feel, my thoughts keep rattling on in the background.
Just simple observations. Idle chatter.
chatter chatter chatter
I should figure out a suggestion thing for the blog
The throne of god is vacant, no one left to save...
A special hell for the creator that damns his subjects before they've even breathed
The villains are gone, everyone good is wrong
A bit of bile
A little riled
File this away under "nothing left to say"
I keep falling back on my own cliches.
Rude. Very rude.
Oh god, the hyphens never end.
The razzledazzle of the dance club lights meant little to Randall anymore. He'd found his whore and she'd fucked him in the least fun way imaginable. Stole his money, his clothes, but most importantly, his badge. That badge meant everything to him, and now it was in the clutches of some greedy bitch from Amsterdam. His boss loved that. Guffawed in his face. Rodney had to use his replacement cowboy hat as a spit-shield.
Fucking whores named Cassidy. Can't trust 'em.
That's a lot of meat.
Oh my god arseface is awesome.
I really like this, guise.
(cue *Everything is Awesome*)
Sweet Jesus IKEA is huge.
Sweet Jesus components for furniture are heavy.
Sweet Jesus my back is sore.
Sweet Jesus sweet Jesus.