A place where everything and nothing makes sense is a sentence I've kept with me for a lot of years. Here lately it's making a lot of sense. I tend to go off on rants easily, and find it hard why others don't do the same.

You could say I'm eccentric.. without the money, yet. I try not to dwell or rehash old memories. Usually the bad ones come up the most. I've had a lot of loss in my life, so I'm pretty sarcastic when at all possible.

It isn't looking at the bad.. it's seeing the good.

It isn't wanting to commit acts of violence.. it's acting it out in a medium to where it doesn't end up on the 6 O'clock news. I want fame, but not that bad

My passion is ...

Knowledge and music.. and all kinds of both.

I know too much about ...

This and that. Random stuff most people wouldn't even think about.

My parents always told me ...

They loved me and want me to be happy.

My childhood ambition ...

Was to be a special effects makeup artist. Got as far as freaking out a few people and a teacher at school.

My favorite memory ...

Spring time and the smell of honeysuckle...

Why I write ...

To release the angels and demons.. then watch em go at it!

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

Guerilla Warfare by Ernesto Che Guevara/ /new NIN and Deicide

My first job ...

Long John Silvers.. but I called it Hell

My best moment ...

I've got a few.. I think the one that sticks out was when I was sitting at a coffee shop in Amsterdam with two women and two men. Complete strangers, and we were talking and laughing like we'd known each other for years.

My inspiration ...

God.. in it's many names and forms

Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Fate

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It was happening in front of him again. Night after night he watched through his dream eyes and see it. Fragments at first, then full eye pictures. Someone being dragged. A woman screaming. Looking up to see a man. Blackness. Another scream. Looking up again to see the man now with a gun. Blackness.. then the gun goes off..
"Do you believe in fate, boy!"
Dennis sits up in his bed soaked in sweat just as thunder claps loudly outside. Breathing heavily his wife sits up with him.
"Honey," she asks and begins rubbing his back. "You ok?"
"No," he says reaching for the night stand and grabbin...

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