Post by dominique blake way on Jun 28, 2008 18:18:14 GMT -5
Well today I talked to some random on the street - I personally think that he was a student (not from Preston, though) doing a survey of people passing on the street. He stopped me and asked me what my life's goals were, or what I wanted to do with my life.
I responded with a small smirk-like smile that made me look too sweet. "Well, I happen to be a very impulsive person, and I hope to end up with like the movie American Psycho, you know, with Christian Bale. I hope to have something that involves killing people with chainsaws." Then after a pause to take a breath, I ended our conversation with, "just don't come to my dorm room. Or should I say, The CHAINSAW Room?" I finished that sentence with wide, bulging eyes, just for a finishing touch. He looked at me with a slightly worried look on his face. I have to wonder, why would he be looking worried? What exactly would be there to worry about? Did it look I had a chainsaw on my person? I let it go, though, and grinned at him and waved a sickly sweet wave.
See, I'm not quite sure why exactly I'm writing about this, especially in such detail, but I actually think that I like this idea of JOURNALS. (Now who's trying to protect themselves from their own 'harmful' words?) ALRIGHT, I'M A PANSY, I GOT IT!
...but I like being a pansy. And I like writing in this journal. At least it's not pink and fuzzy or something dumb like that.
I responded with a small smirk-like smile that made me look too sweet. "Well, I happen to be a very impulsive person, and I hope to end up with like the movie American Psycho, you know, with Christian Bale. I hope to have something that involves killing people with chainsaws." Then after a pause to take a breath, I ended our conversation with, "just don't come to my dorm room. Or should I say, The CHAINSAW Room?" I finished that sentence with wide, bulging eyes, just for a finishing touch. He looked at me with a slightly worried look on his face. I have to wonder, why would he be looking worried? What exactly would be there to worry about? Did it look I had a chainsaw on my person? I let it go, though, and grinned at him and waved a sickly sweet wave.
See, I'm not quite sure why exactly I'm writing about this, especially in such detail, but I actually think that I like this idea of JOURNALS. (Now who's trying to protect themselves from their own 'harmful' words?) ALRIGHT, I'M A PANSY, I GOT IT!
...but I like being a pansy. And I like writing in this journal. At least it's not pink and fuzzy or something dumb like that.
