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Call Me Crazy


He went into the bathroom, stared at the mirror, pulled hard at his hair that a handful came out. He
opened the medicine drawer, taking out a syringe. He had his daily use of cocaine at hand and ready. He
put it in the syringe improperly, sixty percent air and the rest cocaine. He stared hard at himself. Then
closed his eyes briefly, thinking of how beautiful he was as a boy and how beautiful he could have been.
Careful he had been to not let the air bubbles burst while he put the needle in his skin. He stared at his
despairing expression.
“I can’t hold a smile. I’d kill to smile, all for a smile.”
He injected himself, keeping face, and stared in the mirror. Quickly he got dizzy and lay on the bathroom
floor till he died of air embolism.
The End
Obviously, it’s not a true story. None of them are, but I guess will see when I put the pen
down or stop narrating my story. I mean how personal is it all going to get? How much
truth will I put into this all? I have no idea yet, but it will be entertaining. Why? Well hell,
it is because even imagination has got to come from some kind of reality. And reality is
entertaining, isn’t it? And, I truly believe there is never a truly untruthful story whether
based on fiction, sci-fi, or whatever, it all comes from a realistic moral or some real
experience. I mean someone had to write the damn thing from something that came
from their mind .It’s the same thing to be said about an honest man, he will be dishonest
at times to portray his honest image. And even a dishonest man can be honest about
being dishonest. Like I mentioned before, there is never an untruthful story or an honest
or dishonest man, not completely anyways. But my secrets are going to be hard to
figure out, spotting out the truth in my little stories. They are unbreakable secrets kept in
my fingertips that my pen finds hard writing down. Okay I`ll keep entertaining and stop
with my shitty distractions. I’ll keep my opinions to myself, I promise.
The next one is for novelist writers, my favourite writers. Excuse my sarcasm, but
novelist writers are crazy and I’m thankful not to be. Here’s a tip worth allot to anyone
thinking about becoming one, don’t do it. Do not go spending 280 pages inside your
head, you’ll go crazy. And at the end, publishers want to kill you. Well, they want to get
your work for dirt cheap and then nobody reads your novel anyway. Here is some better
advice, work at McDonalds. You will probably earn more money there then trying to
aspire being a famous writer. So this one is for the aspiring kids writing at their novel,
but you need to be putting the pen down to read it.
Putting the Pen Down
Eyes grew wide, lips got pursed, and for the first time everything was just fine. No distractions, words
came, and the characters he never thought he could think of, have appeared in his mind. And all the little
doubts and anxiety that once had went out of mind. Johnny, Selma, Richard, Ron, and Kenny the hero,
and all his attributes and personalities, he would put in his novel. He finally settled down and started
writing. He sat in his high rise leather black chair, spun around, wrote a few words. He spun again. Then
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