I'm gonna just put this here.

I am going to get a little crazy right now because my brim...yeah, it's well spilled over and all over the fucking floor and all over my fucking life. I am so done with school. NO. NOT EVEN DONE WITH SCHOOL, JUST...done being human. Human life is so boring. Our anatomical structure is absolutely breathtaking, but we can't defy gravity, we can become invisible, and we can't fucking teleport. Now someone tell me what the FUCK is up with that shit?! I'll tell you what we can do though: kill unborn children, make war, and fight. Now that's some lameass shit right there. So I know in my heart I won't give up school, but I need some extended break or something. I mean....if I was going to art school or taking creative writing classes....now I would stay in school forever and never complain. Because those are my passions. Yet here I am trying to become a nurse so I can help people who don't deserve it, people who think I owe it to them, people who are sick in the head...just people...People, people, people....such vial, evil creatures, yet to capable of doing good and great things. I am busting my ass so I can help people like that, WHY? Because I am a fucking nurturer, a healer AND because the medical field is the one of few thriving fields with this shit economy. But really, in my world.....I would lie by a beautiful creek in Oregon surrounded by woods and long pastures...and I would just read my books all day, trapped in that world. I would paint all day and write. I know ONLY in a perfect world, right? Right. You know, sometimes I wonder if I will ever become a published author...I'm truly scared to just go for it and put my work out there because I don't want to hear people say it's sad, or dark, or morbid: THAT'S WHY MY STYLE. But let me tell you, I've read some fucking up and disturbing books and I loved them because they were great read. American Psycho. House of Leaves. Haunted. Glamourama. Perfume. All of those books are disturbing as fuck and I had nightmares for a weeks after I read them, but hell it was fun!You're probably wondering what the point of all this blogSPATTER is. Well, it's just me. It's just normal everyday things I think about put into an internet blog and I love every second of it. What am I trying to say? What point am I posing? No one reads my stuff, I know. So I guess I am talking to myself.


.QueenAlyss.