This story is a bit more autobiographical than maybe I’d like it to be. A bit more uncomfortable than it probably needed to be. But, here it is. Today, I was looking for something to write, and a prompt from a website that I hate said “Write a story about the first line of your favorite song.”
So, here it is, and a heavily edited but in-faith story of my favorite song. Oh, contains foul language, since I know there are a few of you who read these at work. Might want to not do that, if that’s a problem for you.
Continue reading Change
NSFW and pretty disgusting. That I free wrote this makes me ill. That I allowed it to get this far, despite the girl in front of me not being any of these things disgusts me to no end.
Continue reading The Bus Rider.
So many things to say, he decided to say nothing at all. People would hate him and there was so much to drink, so much to think about.
I am truly disgusted with what I wrote today. It’s vile, sexist and disgusting. Someday, I’ll finish it when my esteem is lower. Today? No. It’s terrible. I’m very sorry, but, this paragraph will have to suffice:
The girl in front of me smells funny. A sort of cross between slight rancidity and bile mixed with hopelessness and despair and a touch of whatever the lasest perfume she can afford costs her. Clearly under the hardened mask she wears, she is or at least was once a pretty girl, or at least pretty to someone, if just for a convenient night of fornication and alcohol. Her voice is raspy, breath besotten with the scent PF cheap cigarettes. She hates that she smokes and vows to quit weekly. If she can ‘just get through this week’ she swears to herself for what could be the five hundredth time.
I can’t share the details of yesterday’s writings. I can, however, give you a tiny taste.
…Once completed in this Love, we’ll never look elsewhere, we’ll never find another. We’re inseperable. We can do more as this new union, brought together in front of God than we can do individually, solely based on the power of this Love….
Once, long ago, he’d had hopes and dreams and aspirations. There were desires and loves, people who mattered. And in a flash, it was gone.
“Want fries with that?” he asked, wanting to kill himself with each syllable.
A recap of last night’s hot, d20 rollin’ action. Quite a bit geeky, but, whatever.
Continue reading Dragons and Dungeons.