allowed entry at 5:08 pm
In Your Dreams
Chapter Two
People are sometimes easily overlooked. The holes they leave behind when they aren't there any more are far harder to miss. It made Paul think of science lessons at school, negative numbers and antimatter, but now it made complete sense. Everywhere Paul looked, and even when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the absence of Sophie, the gap where she used to be, should have been, no longer was. It was so large, it dominated the landscape so much that he was pretty sure it was visible from the orbit, like the Great Wall Of China or the lights of San Francisco freeways. Maybe that's what ghosts are; the huge empty spaces left behind when someone dies, kept wedged willfully open by the self-destructive human mind.
One of the very few paragraphs of words which I read that truly moved me.
I know exactly how Paul feels. Sucks =(
I'll tell you another thing that sucks.
How you are totally sleepy in school and you can't wait to get home to your comfy little bed.
But when you're lying on your bed,
you
just
can't
seem
to
sleep.
Sucks, doesn't it?
Which explains why I'm blogging.
Instead of doing my EPL.
Speaking of which, I literally had a mental breakdown yesterday.
What more with my printer fucking up and my thumbdrive still having the fucking virus that was fucking infected by the fucking school's fucking laptop.
FUCK THE SCHOOL!
And their fucking laptops.Most of all, fuck Trojans and viruses.
My breakdown was like, gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, to the point where I was sitting on my bed for god knows how many hours, thinking about absolutely nothing.
Plus I was pissed off with the whole world, particularly with some fucked up cuntfaces who think they're so fucking perfect and that everyone else is at fault except for themselves.
Fuck you _|_
Let's see if I'll blow up right in your stuck up, piece of shit face.
I don't give a shit what you say about me or my friends.
Cause I fucking know myself and I fucking know my friends way better than you will fucking know your fucking ingrown toenail for the rest of your life.
It's not just one.
It's many.
If I had connections to mobsters, mafias or whatever source that has guns, I swear to God I would assassinate you.
Once again, fuck you.
I think I'm too stressed.
How many 'FUCKS' have I said today?
PS:
I miss you. And I love you.
