8hyenas: (curious?)
[personal profile] 8hyenas
Damn my sense of reality. A sense that refuses to acknowledge the existence of finals until the night before. And even then I don't study. Oh well. It's not like I panic. Or like I've ever studied for any final in my life. Actually I quite happy. I have different priorites. I am smug in my superiorness. Finals are like that annoying gnat that I can't kill because in penance I'd have to cut myself. I hate being forced to kill things.
Once when I was 10 I was walking to school with my friends and a squirrel got ran over. It didn't die. We stood there staring at it twitching frantically on the ground while blood pooled underneath it and the smashed pulp of its eye glared accusingly. We stood there and it didn't die. So I slammed my foot into its head again and again until its head was nothing bits of bone and blood on my sneaker. I wiped my shoe off in the grass and that night I cried and sawed at my finger with my dad's dull pocketknife. See? Things are supposed to balance. A life for a life and all that. Everytime I kill something I have to give it a year off the end of my life and bleed. But if it's human I gain a year. :)
Someone should call me. I'm bored and my head is getting louder. It's annoying.

Now I'm to bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SLEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love sleep.
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8hyenas

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