I don't smile,
I don't laugh,
I don't care about life,
I don't think about tomorrow,
Every day is just another that is borrowed.

Anxiety is always surging,
My stomach is always purging and twisting,
My thoughts are always kept high but my head is hung down low,
I don't want this pain anymore,
Misery is aplenty,
I just want to get out of here.

Don't lie to me,
I see it in your eyes, the fact that you are scared of me,
I know not why, and it makes me cry,

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I've just submitted my first story on this site.
I've been fumbling about, trying to think up a story for a long time now, and whilst I've come up with some decent ideas, I haven't actually written anything yet.

So this story will not be one of the ones I've thought through a great deal, it's actually based on an idea that's almost become a cliche at this point. But nevertheless, it's gonna be my first attempt at, actual, writing.

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"This is if the plot was backwards - Kira wasn't the villain and everyone thought he was until the very end.
Like if he had kids, a wife, and was just trying to hold his life and family together while these guys are attacking him for no reason because a bunch of odd coincidences happened which made him look suspicious. And this played when he died in an unusually cruel way (ambulance)." - from Pixel Demon

THAT'S RIGHT BITCHES I'M IN AN ANGSTY MOOD RIGHT NOW. WELL, SORT OF. I'M NOT GONNA CRY AND I DON'T FEEL A VOID IN MY HEART OR WHATEVER LIKE I USED TO. I LOOKED UP SOME GIRLY DRINKS ON PINTEREST SINCE STRAIGHT UP WHISKEY TASTES LIKE SHIT!!! IMMA TRY AND MAKE A COSMPOPLITAN BUT WITHOUT THE MIXER. I'M DISCOURAGED/NOT ALLOWED TO GET A JOB BUT THAT SHIT KEEPS ME BUSY. MAKING ALL THOSE CRAFTS FOR SPANISH CAMP WAS A BITCH BUT I DIDN'T FEEL LONELY LIKE I DO NOW.

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