So today I thought about what I wanted to do with my life. Like really do that isn't something like build the biggest rocket ever and live on Jupiter inside of it. So I thought, and thought, and thought, and thought, and thought, and thought some more. Finally I came to a conclusion.
I want to own my own fucking nightclub.
Yes, I still do want to be a tattoo artist, but think about it: I hate needles and if I can't stand having a needle anywhere near me, then who am I to go anywhere near a person with a needle in my hand? It just doesn't make since.
Tell me what you guys think about it.
Also, I have 315 READS!!!!!!!! THANKS YOU GUYS!!!!!!!! You made it this far without anyone trying to kill me out of boringness, and for that I thank you. Give yourselves a pat on the back. Your psychos cause you actually read this shit and still have hope that it will get better. (I know I said this in chapter 1 but it won't. It's just me ranting on about my fucked up life)
One last thing, I am changing the name of the story from #story of my life to My Personal Hell. @unnoticed_killjoy brought it to my attention that I don't really use hashtags a REALLY long time ago and its been bugging me since then because I couldn't come up with a good name. If you don't like the new name, message me about it, either on here or on Twitter.
Please, before you start hating on the name or giving me random ideas, please, please, please tell me what it is you don't like about it. Thank you.
Till next time,
Ace
YOU ARE READING
My Personal Hell
De TodoMy thoughts, my life. If you don't like I'm not forcing you to read it. I may not update a lot but I will so don't give up on me just yet.
