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Pursued. [journal]
Jul. 30th, 2004 11:25 pmRepeat first paragraph from yesterday, minus the rain part.
Pointy object lust. I had a dream where I was being chased by two big guys; I don't know why, but they chased me in my car and I managed to outrun them for a litle while so I got inside my house and yelled at someone to watch the door because these guys were after me. That someone might have been my husband, I don't know. Anyway, I then took a quick trip to the bathroom and just then I heard the someone cry, "they're coming!" I dashed out to the narest window and watched as my pursuers backed up in their car and rammed down the front door. I went straight to by room (which is just like my room), and having had some regrets over not keeping my dagger sharp and ready (in actuality I haven't worked it as sharp as my other knife yet), I took out my whetstone but just then the two guys barged into the room. Did they have guns? I don't remember. Either way, I was so terrified I threw everything under my bed and put my hands up in surrender --
Bad endings don't happen often for me. They just get cut off.
There's another one: I'm part of a big group of kids and we've been taken hostage or something in a school, since this big mobster guy (in black) has said that whoever makes the best handicraft for him won't get shot. It's an art class we're in so we started off making drawins and posters of coloured paper; then we realize that maybe he would like black paper better. In a hurried frenzy no one finds any black paper. Kids start switching to making other things, like beaded animals and objects. We only have an hour to make this stuff. Since everyone's switched to doing beadwork, I do a deeper search for the elusive black paper. Now there's only five minutes left and no black paper in sight. Desperately I do a half-assed job on my beaded crystal-pendulum-thingy-shaped thing and when time is up everyone hands their stuff in --
No ending to this one either, but if there had been, it wouldn't have been a good one, I bet.
I guess that's it for today. Sometimes I feel so desperate to become a killer I don't care anymore how I'd do the job. Like I'd sit here and imagine and think and sigh because the real world isn't like the movies. People like that don't happen. I can't be a contract killer even if I wanted to. I have to deal with that!!
Pointy object lust. I had a dream where I was being chased by two big guys; I don't know why, but they chased me in my car and I managed to outrun them for a litle while so I got inside my house and yelled at someone to watch the door because these guys were after me. That someone might have been my husband, I don't know. Anyway, I then took a quick trip to the bathroom and just then I heard the someone cry, "they're coming!" I dashed out to the narest window and watched as my pursuers backed up in their car and rammed down the front door. I went straight to by room (which is just like my room), and having had some regrets over not keeping my dagger sharp and ready (in actuality I haven't worked it as sharp as my other knife yet), I took out my whetstone but just then the two guys barged into the room. Did they have guns? I don't remember. Either way, I was so terrified I threw everything under my bed and put my hands up in surrender --
Bad endings don't happen often for me. They just get cut off.
There's another one: I'm part of a big group of kids and we've been taken hostage or something in a school, since this big mobster guy (in black) has said that whoever makes the best handicraft for him won't get shot. It's an art class we're in so we started off making drawins and posters of coloured paper; then we realize that maybe he would like black paper better. In a hurried frenzy no one finds any black paper. Kids start switching to making other things, like beaded animals and objects. We only have an hour to make this stuff. Since everyone's switched to doing beadwork, I do a deeper search for the elusive black paper. Now there's only five minutes left and no black paper in sight. Desperately I do a half-assed job on my beaded crystal-pendulum-thingy-shaped thing and when time is up everyone hands their stuff in --
No ending to this one either, but if there had been, it wouldn't have been a good one, I bet.
I guess that's it for today. Sometimes I feel so desperate to become a killer I don't care anymore how I'd do the job. Like I'd sit here and imagine and think and sigh because the real world isn't like the movies. People like that don't happen. I can't be a contract killer even if I wanted to. I have to deal with that!!
