Her hitler hairdo is making me feel ill.

Once at this sit-down dinner thing I could not stop staring at this girl. She wasn't much to look at, but every time I looked up, there she was. Sometimes she was across the room and sometimes she was the center of my attention though she never looked directly at me. I felt kind of weirdly for staring the entire time and sort of badly for ignoring my party, but at the same time I felt this strange attraction towards her. However, my indecision overcame the attraction and I ended up just staring. Until eventually, I looked up and she wasn't there. Frantically, I spun around toward the exit and I just caught a glimpse of her before she disappeared completely.

Flawlo

This is the incredibly, magnificently short story of Flawlo.

Flawlo was a giant purple thing who's skin had the texture of a rhino's beneath swan's feathers. He had gratuitous, bat-like wings that only propelled him four inches off the floor, presumably to ease the pain of walking on his thumbtacked feet. His mouth was an elephants snout, but he still had trouble breathing through smoker's lungs. His eyes were like that of an eagles who's corneas had been clawed out by large rats. He absorbed the sound around him through miniature, trumpet-like hearing aids that have long before been caked with rust. He carried the physical manifestation of the world's flaws on his abnormally grotesque shoulders for three hundred and sixty-two years.

Cause of death: Unknown.

I may be paranoid, but not an android.

Sometimes, I can feel my own shadow sneaking up on me. It's really annoying because it can take the shape of any object, really. I'll walk past bookshelves and jars will crash just inches behind me. I wake up and see a stuffed lions mouth, dripping with saliva, about to devour me. My shadow's a coward though, that's why it prefers the dark, and it freezes in terror if I catch it red-handed. I mean, if a shadow did have hands...
Nevertheless I'm growing very worried for my family and my own well-being. Just trying to open the door to my own house, the slight clink-clink of the keychain and the heavy clunk of the deadbolt releasing was enough to make me jump a few feet back. Still, I'm afraid arming myself would only get me in more trouble. Just how exactly, would I stab or shoot a shadow anyway? I only have to look it in the eye... that's it! I'll wire surveillance cameras throughout the house and rig a series of traps for the shadow! If I see any mischief, all I'll have to do is press a button and I'll have it captured! Oh, finally my family and I can rest in piece!
It's the next day. Time to check the tapes... what the? How could this have happened?!
"No that can't be true! The shadow must have figured it out! I was only trying to help! I swear!"
"Oh, really? These surveillance tapes tell a different story."

Everybody Knows That You're Insane.

Despite the horrendous weather, today was riddled with sporadic nosebleeds. My bathroom floor looks like a crime scene. It doesn't help that I've been running around all day either. The bathroom at the Hometown Buffet I went to looks like a crime scene also, but I doubt they noticed at all.
I was glad that I could run to Streetlight Records with a twenty-five dollar gift card though. I found some Radiohead, some Queens of the Stone Age, some Cure, and some Tool. Afterward when it was time to pay, I was just like, "GIFTCARD BIATCHHH!!" I paid the man four dollars and bled all over him.
However, I didn't forget to grab some free posters. One is of some weird German band (I'm guessing they're German but I'm really bad at guessing) with this crude drawing of humans devolving and walking into the mouth of a monster. The last phase of de-evolution is apparently a bird singing. At the bottom, it reads: "PLAYING LIVE IN: (blank)." I guess I'm supposed to fill in the blank with something but I'd rather not. I'm not afraid to sleep next to it either.
The other poster I got is all black with the words "ANTI-SALE," and some other writing, written all in white with lines stitched across the letters and colourful drops of paint splattered about. Despite it's message, it actually looks like an advertisement, but it doesn't bother me.
Between the two posters I put those papers that warn you if a CD is marked and may not play (that's how I got them so cheap) and under those, a coupon that gives me two dollars off of any non-sale item worth ten dollars or more. Yay.
So I have four great CD's, I ate like a pig and no one cared, I slept till about noon each day, and slept on the couch at least once. I'd say this weekend went pretty well for me.

*closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly*

All around me all I see
Are people I wish I were.
I wish I were her
I wish I were he.
I'll never have that life
I've wanted all my life
And that's how it's going to be.
Until now.
Now I don't care.
Rob me, strip me bare,
Of everything,
Nothing,
No one,
Nowhere.
And in a way I'll be
More free
Than I ever was.

Just a little something from a point in my life when I was frustrated at something, I don't remember what or who or where. Anyway, I'm obviously displeased with whatever it was I was trying to convey with this.
Enjoy!

Vampires don't die in their sleep.

I often have apocalyptic dreams. I would say, about once a week. They don't bother me, though maybe they should. I'd like not to worry about it. What can I do to prevent the earth from imploding?
Anyway, in the dreams, I'm always running somehow: in a car, on a bike, on foot. Eventually though, I reach a dead end or I get tired and I have to stop. Then there's some kind of explosion and a big cloud fills the air. Sometimes, I see the missile fly over me before it explodes. Sometimes, there's a really bright light and I go blind for a second, but I always wake up before I can watch the earth crumble. I always die alone.

Daytime Television.

I woke up and flicked on the television box. On it was this beautiful, passionate love scene, they were newlyweds I think. I thought today was going to be a good day so I continued watching.
Then the man cheats on the woman for no reason!
He keeps doing it!
For no reason at all!
Drama, drama, drama, oh wait I'm watching Lifetime.
*snoreeee*

But it was a great opening sequence.

Shiver.

In my world,
The ocean's in the sky
And the sky's in this puddle.
I can dive right in
And fly!
...
And fall,
Back down,
Into formation.

Pluggy - Cheer Up, Emo Kid.

If it cheers me up, does that make me emo? <--- linky (idk if you can see it..)

MATURE CONTENT WARNING:
two curses you hear daily!

If it's sunday, it means I was very drunk last night.

All my friends have mastered the art of taking independent clauses out of context and rearranging them to have a more sexual meaning in a matter of seconds.
And I can't get a date for Saturday night.

Cause of death: protest.

Every time I'm about to type something,
I almost immediately reread and delete it.
I wonder why I even bother writing.
But then I recall someone told me too.
No matter.
They are much larger. They are much stronger. They have the semi-automatic pistol poised just above my spine.
But I have words.


HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HEL


*bang*

Obsessive, compulsive hatred.

Almost every day coming out of fourth period chemistry, Alyssa has some fantastical story about how everyone in that period just goofed off and poked each other and fought and laughed till they cried and it just makes me burn inside because I'm so furious with envy that all I can do is implode upon myself and hope nothing escapes. I've caught myself letting it out though in these little unintentionally passive-aggressive tangents that seem to drag through the first ten minutes of lunch and I hate to admit that I'm that small and selfish but I am. It has to be the only thing that makes me really feel left out.
Then, without a word, she grasps my hand and I exhale the wreckage of the destruction inside, left only feeling guilty and ashamed, but forgiven.

Just another good vibration.

Today, I was really excited to bring my guitar home from school. I've been torturing myself about leaving it, because I really wanted to play it last weekend. I didn't even care about playing well I just wanted to play and mess around. So, when I got it home and I did all my work, I ran up to my room but I seemed to have misplaced my tuner and I haven't the slightest clue as to where my picks are (Evan, I think you have my 'white stripes' one but I'm not sure. It's okay if you've lost it, I just would really like to know). Anyway, I tried playing while avoiding the un-tuned strings but, eventually, it just became too much for me. So, I rest my head on the headstock and tap random notes to the beat of this song. I believe it was The Man Who Sold the World by David Bowie, but that's beside the point.
I like to chew on things while I think and before I had just been gritting my teeth but then I began to chew on the headstock. Now the vibrations that came from the strings up the neck of the guitar, through the headstock, and into my mouth were euphoric. I could feel them reverberating off the back of my mouth, no through it, to the back of my skull and it was like my brain could feel the music, the random, chopped-up notes on un-tuned strings. It was truly one of the strangest things I had ever felt.

Close your eyes and see the skies are fallin'.

The other night I dreamed I was at a Chuck E. Cheese's playing House of the Dead 4, but the dream's not the important part. When I "woke up," I was staring at my speed bag in the corner and, standing on top of it was Optimus Prime waving at me. I tried wiping my eyes clear, but it took all my strength just to keep them open because I wasn't supposed to wake up then. Still, the sight was so disturbing that I was compelled to keep blinking my eyes slowly open. Eventually, I was able to pry them open, but I wasn't looking anywhere my speed bag, I was lying on my side, facing my dresser. I looked back toward the speed bag on my wall; no Optimus Prime, just same old Krusty the Clown.

I've thought about it this and if we do own some kind of Optimus Prime doll it would have to be downstairs locked in a box in the closet. Only it couln't have even been in the house because my parents were supposed to take all those toys and sell them that day. I don't know, it was just weird I guess. Not the weirdest thing to happen though. My nephew's seen spirits wandering in the hallways and I myself saw a sketch of some cave painting of a squirrel on a piece of paper. That too vanished after I fully opened my eyes. I guess I'll never catch them. I'll just have to make an effort not to sleep too long.

P.S. Does anyone know how to indent the paragraphs on here? :[