Inserting suppositories

I noticed that it is really good for your skin if you do afternoon naps. I do it every now and then – usually when reading a boring book. Though, the moment I close my eyes I know I’m risking having a nightmare again. Strange things happen when I have naps during the day. That’s when my subconscious seems to be most active and does terrible things when I’m not looking.  I don’t even want to go into detail here, but winter has just put me into this empty glass which I am about to break from the inside with the loudest scream my lungs can endure. If it doesn’t work, I shall use my head and elbows until I notice blood is flowing.

I’ve come to this point where I just don’t care about what they think of me anymore. Having settled in finally, after two months, means I have had my time to assess everyone and I feel no threat. And if I do, what the heck, what do I care. What’s the worst that can happen? People disliking me for the wrong reasons? Probably, but it won’t matter. All I am interested in is he. I’m just not sure if I can have him or if he wants me. It’s always the same painful process. Not once will this work. Every time I build an automaton that looks like me I end up embarrassing myself. I shall just be myself. See how that works.

I’m really excited about handing out my short story. I noticed that all the boys tend to write from a boy’s perspective and the girls tend to write from the “I” perspective – the female “I” of course. They are all so autobiographical as well – in a very conspicuous way, too. I would never present a piece of life writing in class and let people judge it as a “piece of writing”. There is so much to criticize about which I am sure makes the person feel uncomfortable. Life Writing is mere blog material for me – nothing to share with in class. If I was to present a piece of Life Writing, I think there will be more stories about my paediatrician inserting suppositories into my anus and how SHE, that damn bitch of a whore, first told my dad that I might have mental health issues. I’m glad my tutor didn’t point out my misogynistic views when I read out my short piece; I don’t think that would have been a pleasant discussion. If you want more life stories about suppositories and masturbation, wait another 10 years and I will tell you everything – if I haven’t mentioned anything in my previous blog entries, yet, that is. I’m sure I have though.

Well, coming back to my story: I spent 4 days and 5 nights writing it and an entire month to redraft and rewrite it. There are 3 drafts and I’m sure after the workshop, I will have to get ready to redraft it for a 4th time. It’s going to be a pain in the arse. It’s strange how I came up with the story in first place. Originally I wanted to write a story about a psycho titled “The observer”. Graham was supposed to be a passive guy watching bad things happen around him (like Clay) and towards the end; he’ll lose it and start a massacre! Only the moment Shannon entered his life, I realized that he was no such person. So Shannon kind of ruined the idea of my story, but I didn’t want t kill her off, either, because I realized Graham liked her.

I don’t talk funny. I talk reality, my way.

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