HOME | DD

Description

The truth is that I get distracted really easily. I look upon someone writing a few words and then I stop time and move to another house where someone else is writing the words that I want to put next in my sentence – and so on and so on I visit a few hundred house in the span of a milli second only to tell you folks that I enjoyed fingering myself with a cucumber as I was a teenager.

Getting the word „cucumber2 was truly a challenge. Not a lot of kids writing about cucumbers, you know.

So, what do you say? This will be it? You’ll go back to your room and do you know what and I’ll go back in my world and do I know what and then we might meet somewhere in the middle and not see each other, because... you know, I’m dead and you’re alive.

I just can’t seem to get over it. Over being dead, that is.

If only it could be as easy as.... no, then it wouldn’t be entertaining and I would be lying to say that I wasn’t having fun right now.

Am I having fun? I don’t really know the feeling of un anymore. I watch people from now and then and try to imagine what they’re feeling, but only end up wanting to cover my face while laughing (due to my bad front teeth) and passing the entire of my palm through my face, somehow thinking that I might bleed from my hand penetrating my face only ending up into more sorrow when I realise I’m dead.

So, I breath.

Description

The truth is that I get distracted really easily. I look upon someone writing a few words and then I stop time and move to another house where someone else is writing the words that I want to put next in my sentence – and so on and so on I visit a few hundred house in the span of a milli second only to tell you folks that I enjoyed fingering myself with a cucumber as I was a teenager.

Getting the word „cucumber2 was truly a challenge. Not a lot of kids writing about cucumbers, you know.

So, what do you say? This will be it? You’ll go back to your room and do you know what and I’ll go back in my world and do I know what and then we might meet somewhere in the middle and not see each other, because... you know, I’m dead and you’re alive.

I just can’t seem to get over it. Over being dead, that is.

If only it could be as easy as.... no, then it wouldn’t be entertaining and I would be lying to say that I wasn’t having fun right now.

Am I having fun? I don’t really know the feeling of un anymore. I watch people from now and then and try to imagine what they’re feeling, but only end up wanting to cover my face while laughing (due to my bad front teeth) and passing the entire of my palm through my face, somehow thinking that I might bleed from my hand penetrating my face only ending up into more sorrow when I realise I’m dead.

So, I breath.