Today was a pretty busy day. So i’ll just do a sort of freewrite. Whatever pops into my head. I’ll attempt to make it more or less coherent though. No story bumbling about inside my head. Which is pretty bad considering I have to make up a few for thesis tomorrow.
Ha.
my laughter rebounds off the walls, filling the room with a senseless chill of dread. Much like the butter free curls on a princess, the brown dog finds the quick fox sainted and fainted in nightly glory. this isn’t exactly a new song, but then again what is. all that has come before has come before and all that has come after has come before too, but then again what is life, if not that. this peanut butter sandwhich which lies in my nose is rather large and uncomfortable and sticky too and also, it smells like peanut butter which is of a consistency which reminds me of poo and the dreary sound of molasses running down a wall. after being thrown there.
thrown there with so much pizaaz. so much flash, vim and vigor that one might wonder, what, what. in a better world if it had not been revealed to be a master. this lumpless turn that i drop on the paper. i still call it paper even though it is digital and ink, if archaic, is a medium which the old folks use the subjugate the new. this virtuoso masturbation is a mental freedom only afforded to the stiff masses in their phallic symbols and their massive e-peens of glory.
oh dear. i was supposed to keep this coherent. well i guess i’ll just call it a freewrite at that.
day after tomorrow, a real story. i promise.
and because i promised, so it i must keep.