This Is About Me, a general fiction

Spontaneously writing is hard. Spontaneously writing on four hours of sleep is harder.

Spontaneously writing knowing you have nothing to say is hardest.

But there. I said something^^. Point for me. I said me writing here, now is hard. Useless. Pointless. Like that old pencil joke, the one with no tip. I know, right? Ha-ha. Smile, turn, sigh and shake head in wonder at small child currently doubled over in laughter.

Is something wrong with them?

Or worse, is something wrong with us?

I just wrote down a rant and handed it to my dad. He's probably reading it upstairs. I don't know how this will end. If I'd like the ending. Kiss and a hug? Nice note? Or, the impossible, my iPod back?

Cause that's what it's about, isn't it? The endgame? Liberty and justice for all? Yes, this is 'justice', but doesn't liberty fit in there somewhere?

It wouldn't be an ending I would choose to write. I'm Concrete Random, an 8, half analytical and global (best parts out of both XD)—I wouldn't write a story like this. I'd really never want to write an autobiography. Too sad for me, and I wouldn't tell a biographer anything.

I don't wait in fear for anything. I busy myself and no matter how many times I try, I always hope for the best.

Which never turns out, naturally. Skirting the radar, celebrating in private is just life. Not gain. I wish I could tell someone but I'll only tell someone who doesn't, when horrified at my behavior, installs punishments. Which is everyone in authority over me. And my friends cannot relate; they live totally different lives and lifestyles.

So what do I do? The little things, obviously. I'm a friend to all online (well, almost all) and on FF and FP, an encourager and supporter. I leave nice PMs, I review, always review, to chapters with long, heartfelt, personal A/N's especially, but those with content I really like as well, as a nice pat on the back—and I love MMOs of all kinds. More support-giving there. Forums? Friend-land.

Real life is more limited. I live in China, for Pete's sake. Small circle of rather immature guy friends, a girl friend I barely see, and a couple other girl friends who are regularly out of town.

Now. Real surprise that I don't get out much, Mom. Wonder why.

[That's sarcasm btw. Just saying.]

So what if inanimate objects also contribute to the 'this-is-what-makes-me-crack-a-smile-after-a-long-weary-day' pile? So why would you think it's wrong or limiting?

Especially if it crosses your so-called lion-poking rules?

Yes, yes. I live in your house, I follow your rule. Sure. Maybe I even frickin' WILL if you'd try to really understand who I am.

I already said I hate pity-parties. But for one's self or for random people reading this online (because I will post this, like it or not, MOM), I think it's fine.

I've cracked many-a-tear for unallowed TV shows and movies. No one means to be rude and disrespectful, and therefore aren't. Matter of opinion ONLY, and why does mine not count again?