Word Vomit

Jack taught me a lesson. A painful one. I met him way back in grade school. We both liked drawing. He was better at it though. Me. I was always more of a writer. You can tell by my distaste for people. Edgar Allan Poe And Virginia Woolf, I'm like them. Dark, Cynical, On edge. Jack was always a happy guy. Well... Until he wasn't. Shit happens. You know? The last time I spoke to him We got in a huge argument. It was pretty bad. He stopped showing up to work, So naturally I grilled him for it. I remember he grabbed my wrist. I yelled at him to let go. He did. Then I went off on him. About how I was sick and tired of him. The guy liked to blame the world for his problems, But he was the type of guy who started his own fires. So I walked away. Another bridge burned down. Jack taught me what it's like to drown. After he left the show went under. It was a disaster. I don't k...

New year, New me! * Scoff * Why do I bother lying to myself? It's the same story. Wannabe writer not writing. All I do is complain. My days are bland. I just work and sleep. Always too tired to read. Pokémon, Friends, Random research topics. That's how I fill my free time. Nothing important, Nothing exciting, Nothing productive. I keep saying I'll do it. Do what? I don't know. Just something I guess. Something's better than nothing. I got to do something. This isn't a New Year's resolution. I need to get my life together. I keep saying this. I keep putting it off. Life. For all I know, I can die tomorrow.