I hated school. I hated work. I hated boredom. I had no interests. I had a happy childhood. There was school, adolescence, growing up, questions about the future. I was twenty-one. I had no dream.
I hated being told I needed health insurance. I was sick of car insurance; tired of people that told me to go back to school, earn the degree, make something of my life.
People went to college and got what they paid for. I hated the relationship, the equation, the vending machine dispensing crinkly-packaged candies and chips.
I didn’t want a high-paying job. I hated jobs. I didn’t want an obvious life.
Cars passed slow with the wind brushing up my hair. I listened to the dusty dirt on the bottoms of my new leather shoes. I felt slow like a fish underwater, like a soft cloud pulled along.
I was content to be slow, away from the vague traps between cause and effect.
Birds made noise along the roadsides, up high in the light-green pine needles. I smelled the sandy heat. When I closed my eyes I believed I had a grand future; I had no problems; the past didn’t matter.
I was going to make my life an adventure.
So here I am. I take bad pictures, with bad cameras. Then I make bad artwork, write bad poetry, direct bad plays, and act badly. But somehow I make a living out of it. Thats a lie. Of course I don't make a living out of it. But I have a kicking pair of head phones. So it's all good. For now. I think....
music
no one cares
movies
Pulp Fiction, Fight Club, The Hangover
tv shows
cancer of society
Interest:
Ruling with an Iron Fist, girls with scars and bruises (but not in a misogynist way)
Hobbies:
Kidnapping children out of hospitals and forcing them to work in my brothels
Orientation:
Lesbian
