AE_Thomsson's profile

The morning lights reflect off the water in the pool and in through my window, leaving a blanket of light and motion stretched across the whole of my ceiling as though it were a car at night in constant passing. Some force has been keeping my mind at constant alert as of late; some demon of my subconsious, welling up from my seeded past... or future... or where-the-fuck-ever. Damn, this has to be my fifth joint. I can't stop shaking. I want to make sense of the violent scene before me. Searc...

Ahmend was a reasonablly intellegent man (or, at least, he liked to think so) who longed to be more than punctuation upon the pages of history. He saw himself as having unique talents and an independant strength that would carry him to the greatness he sought. In actuality, his talents weren't as unique as he'd let himself believe. Those who knew him thought him a self-centered, narssasistic asshole who needed a healthy dose of reality in his diet, and a lot less junkfood. Other's opinions, ...

I stepped outside this morning into one of the most ugly and depressing days in recent history. The sun was two clicks east in the sky. Morning dew was still evaporating off the half-cut, overgrown lawn. A warm 85 degrees and rising. Not a cloud in the sky. I hate days like this. I've got to go up the street to meet a delivery boy. When you live at the ass-end of nowhere, no one wants to take the time or effort to find your house, especially not the Hispanic Pot Dealers Association of Americ...

I stepped outside this morning into one of the most ugly and depressing days in recent history. The sun was two clicks east in the sky. Morning dew was still evaporating off the half-cut, overgrown lawn. A warm 85 degrees and rising. Not a cloud in the sky. Ihate days like this. I've got to go up the street to meet a delivery boy. When you live at the ass-end of nowhere, no one wants to take the time or effort to find your house, especially not the Hispanic Pot Dealers Association of America...

The morning lights reflect off the water in the pool and in through my window, leaving a blanket of light and motion stretched across the whole of my ceiling as though it were a car at night in constant passing. Some force has been keeping my mind at constant alert as of late; some demon of my subconsious, welling up from my seeded past... or future... or where-the-fuck-ever. Damn, this has to be my fifth joint. I can't stop shaking. I want to make sense of the violent scene before me. Searc...