in 72 or so hours i’ll probably be dead

if i could figure out a way to peel off my own skin without it hurting, i probably would. my skin is annoying me. if i could poke my brain with a sharpened pencil and not worry about damaging the part that remembers the lyrics to every song i’ve ever heard, i would.

i got nothing.

the story is due on the 31st and i got nothing. not an idea, not a line, not a anything. i do (like wendy) have an addiction to Little People, Big World.

i am so desperate i pondered writng a story about midgets. or about that time my sister’s got lost in tomahawk. or a story about a woman whose daughter has dreams that come true. or a story about unicorns and pixies. or a story about a misfit and an old lady. or a story about a weird guy who gets high with the blind guy that comes to visit his wife.

yeah, see? panic mode officially starts now.

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3 Comments

  1. kara 26.Mar.06 at 10:09 pm

    i used to have dreams that came true, but it was only the boring dreams about sitting in class at school or eating a piece of pizza. really, it seemed more deja vu like than psychic like.

    anyway, i have no story ideas for you. wish i could be more help. 🙂

  2. PeeWee 26.Mar.06 at 10:38 pm

    Don’t forget about Drag Queens and Transgenders.

  3. kelly 26.Mar.06 at 11:56 pm

    Perfect. You’re right on schedule. Have you read my story yet? Casket furniture and a story about an industrial tech teacher comes only from three miles west of Desperation.
    You will be fine!!