Writing, drawing, tennis, fandom, my sisters, just a collection of things that make up me.Ask me anything Submit
I finally mailed the journal! Sometimes mail services is crazy ‘cause she got it the next day :o She love it! She said even her boyfriend thought it was one of the most amazing/thoughtful gifts he had even seen (I think he said that about another gift I made) well he better thing that considering how many hours I spent working on it. Of course then she felt like crap because she never got my anything for my birthday, she’s the only person I know that would feel guilty when getting her birthday present, even if it doesn’t last long.
Lately I’ve been going to bed late and getting up early so I’ve been super tired, to the point I think I’ve been sleep walking. All I know is, today was the third day at like 4 in the morning (which is NOT when I planned on getting up) that I’ve woken up not in bed, this morning I was wondering around my apartment, I don’t remember what I was doing the other morning but I think I was just standing there and the first morning I was in my kitchen staring at my alarm because I thought it had gone off when really I had forgot to even set it.
It’s like I’m slowly going crazy.
Also, I don’t know what to do when I wake up because I don’t know why I got up so I’m like “maybe I have to go to the bathroom” so I just go to the bathroom and plop back down in bed because it feels weird to just go back to bed because I had to get up be wandering around for a reason.
All I wanted to do was move my popcorn to a different cabinet so it’d be easier to reach, but because I knocked of a magnet in the process and broke it I have now swept, mopped, vacuumed, cleaned my bathtub, sink and mirror and now I’m sitting here hold half a magnet waiting for the stupid glue to dry because it falls apart if I set it down.
I didn’t even want to eat the popcorn, I just wanted to move it.
Okay, so that thing that I said I wrote a while ago and would post (and then never did, sorry about that) here it is, completed even, although not by choice, if it had been up to be it would still be sitting unfinished in a notebook somewhere and be completely different than how it turned out, but it’s alright. If you have a comment on it or anything feel free to let me know though, it’s for my fiction writing class and it’s due in like two weeks :p
Murderer. Killer for hire. Hitman. Personally, I like to think of myself as paying off a debt. And it just so happens to involve the death of a few people. Sixty-seven to be exact, so far. Soldiers have killed just as many people during war time, but we call them heroes because they’re employed by the government and say they’re fighting for peace, justice and our freedom, they’re hired and they kill people, killers for hire. See that? Not much of a difference. Now serial killers, all they have to do is kill three people, minimum, and there’re people who idolize them. And they do their killings for free. They’re also known as murderers, again, not much of a difference. So why the hell do I get crap for killing people? The only difference between us is that I didn’t choose to be a hitman; this is not what my eight year old self saw my 23 year old self doing. I should have been a professional soccer player. Instead I have people after my head because of a profession I don’t even want. If this was back during Nosferatu’s time I’d have an angry mob with pitch forks and torches after me. And the people leading this mob? The same kind of people that hire me, this is all for show for the poor dumb citizens that truly think their tax dollars are being used for what the politicians tell them they are used for, rather than my allowance. I felt kind of bad for them.