I'm a writer. A writer of fact, through fiction. Full of myself? You betcha. Completely inept? Not quite. I write what I want, what I see. I lie through my words with total truth. Contradiction? Probably. But in all honesty, who really cares? I'm a student, leader of the future, scourge of the earth.
What do I like? You probably don't care. House, on USA. Puppies. Angels and Demons. Kittens. Hot sauce. Italian food, with Parmesan cheese. Hanging with friends. Cute boys. Hot boys. Ice cream. Pecan Pie. My family. God. Being alone. Not being alone. Good movies. Old movies. The idea of love. Not actually being in love, but hanging with friends who are. Rodents. Computers. Good books. Good stories. Finding seashells. Warm weather. Snow. Hiccups. Tea. Cookies. Whiteboards. Blackboards. Chalk. The sun. The moon. Clouds. Grass. Donkeys. Cows. Old ladies. Comfortable chairs. Fire. Just to name a few.
Maybe you'll find out more about me. Most likely, you won't. But who really cares?
Author's Notes: 22 August 08
Thrills for Midnight: I finally finished seven. Finally. I'm not even sure how I managed to do it. I only had two or three minutes at any one time, enough to get a sentence, then life was runnin' me down again. Enjoy, I'm gettin' to eight.
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