Bullets.

Clostrophobia. You've never experienced it 'til you've been roped to a table- gagged- and left to await your fate. Walls closing in. Dark. Hands at my sides writhing. Lungs betraying me- constricted. Heart pounding- failing.
PANIC! PANIC! PANIC!
panic to your heart's content, but you're never getting out alive!
(Quiet, you lunatic piece of sh*t...)
Movement past a door. that faceless bastard...
*click!click!click!* of boots on concrete. Sounds like more than two feet. 4 maybe 6 boots...
louder. Louder. LOUDER. until-
*BOOM!* the door goes down in a cloud of dust and the light rolls in like smoke.
"How's our little angel?" grizzly growls from behind dark masks. Three monster carrying pistols and hungry stomachs. The gag dislodges from my jaw and out stream the threats... stupid!
"FILTHY RATS! GET ME THE F**K OUT OF HERE OR, I SWEAR, I'LL-"
"You'll WHAT, honey?" The faceless one that dragged me here seems to be the only one with a voice. He cocks his gun, spreads my left hand out on the table beside me. His cold, meetal weapon pins down my palm, "You'll KILL us?"
*BANG* Flames lick at my throbbing nerves- taunting.
(I'm so F**KING stupid!)
Blood gushes from the wound. I bite my lip in agony.
Laughter ensues from the mouths of the monsters. Barking hyenas...
This is their idea of a good time. And their not-so-harmless fun mixed with my uncanny ability to offend makes for the battle-scar of a lifetime.
(Jesus... why?)
You don't know pain 'til you've been mauled by a bullet...
I'm made of bullets.
I AM PAIN.

February 11th 2011

Quietly. Silently.
Inching. Inching forward. (floor-tile by floor-tile.)
Step on a crack, break you mother's back...
Quicken your pace.
Feel you heart racing. Racing.
Caffinated blood-flow pumping. Pumping.
Through nicotine-constricted roadways...
Filling up that empty space you once called a body.
Head spinning.
Spinning.
Spinning out of control...

February 9th 2011

This school is a wasp nest, populated with drones of blood thirsty, ruthless fiends waiting for the littlest disturbance to make them uncomfortable so they have an excuse to attack. Dive in for the kill. 5 thousand stingers come to tear my goodwill down. But I WON'T STAND DOWN. WE WON'T BREAK DOWN. (cuz we fight back.) Who hates me enough to mock me like this? They're out there... in here... walking these halls... furious for some reason locked up deep inside themselves, unapparent to the naked eye... Who's to tell me I can't be me? That I can't hope for people to understand?
Disrespectful.
Bias.
Closed Minded.
Control Freaks.
Are you telling me that I'm inappropriate?
Am I offensive to you?
Well, I'm not going to appologize for your own arrogance if that's what you want.
Ignorance.

We stand together in the name of TRUTH & ACCEPTANCE.
(what do you stand for? HATE?)

Dexter is pretty much my favorite TV show :)

Write a letter to yourself in 10 years:

Dear self (it's weird to call yourself "dear"),
... goodness, there are so many questions to ask... uh, how's 27 treatin' yuh? >_> hmm... this is kinda awkward. Anyway, I guess I should ask some deep, thought provoking questions that remind you/me of how lame I was/am as a teenager. Did the world end in 2012? Are you currently fighting to survive a nuclear winter? Not gunna lie, that'd be pretty awesome. Have you killed any zombies yet? No? Hmm, bummer... have you at least gotten a tattoo? I'd think so because I'm planning on gettiong one before the apocolypse. Do you still obsess over the Joker? Oh! was the third Nolan Batman movie any count?! I don't think he can ever top the Dark Knight. And how about Mass Effect 3? Does Commander Sheparddefest the Reapers and save Earth? Do you get the option to pursue a lesbian romance with Jack, or is Bioware still a bunch of heartless sons-of-witches? How's the progress on the whole "trans*" thing? Am I a boy yet? (Please say yes)... How's Niki? Is she out of school yet? I love her so much <3. Did we ever move to Boston? Please tell me we're not still stuckin Kentucky! That's the one thing I want to do as soon as possible: move. There's no opportunity here. Please get me out of here... Please, I'm begging you- get me to a place with more people like me/us/YOU! It's for our own good, you know.

With Love,
Indigo (but you already knew that)

February 4th 2011

A natural born survivalist. (like you've gotta be when you're born into this sh*thole) Ever viglilant. (I'm impressed) She is rough, perhaps even more so than me. And,God, she's beautiful... just like her mother. But her face is tougher, jaw tighter- on edge. A tarit she has inherited from this wasteland wilderness... and probably from my genetic arrogance. She has a mouth on her. Quiet, but when she does speak she doesn'ttake any sh*t. Not for me. Not from anyone.
Pale hair whiplash. Calloused fingers caress a trigger. Wreckless, loaded barrel pressed nearly into my brains- threatening.
"What the F**K do you want, old man?!"
Spit sprays my cheek. (Furious.)
Sunshine and Bullets.
I could get used to this.

February 3rd 2011

Tonight the sun goes dark around the world. Radio-static clouds blur the senses. we've been blinded- muted- deafened... our perception slaughtered in the onslaught of perpetual thunder. In this new, tainted world, all you've got is your own thoughts- cuz we can't just talk- we've gotta be virtual, don't we? And so we're left to our dwindling, dishevelled imaginations. Have to build them up, I guess- fill out our brains again. Re-learn to think for ourselves. So hard, since we've been sucking endless information through a straw from the day they could pry our jaws apart.