On Point Insanity

I'm alive but maybe not for long

Now there's a part in your life when younger people just generally annoy you. I'm having one of those times. Right now to be exact. Here in the back of the room of my tower of a school, I have a full view of a cliche sleepover show of two girls, barley the age of 13 (or I hope at least 13) "whisper" about murder novels and stupid moms. 

Now don't get me wrong, I too love a good murder novel. The joy of killing a great character is almost as equivalent to jumping into a freezing lake. Your mind is drunk on adrenaline, driving to the docks, but while your in the act of pushing your character on that fatal edge you just take the leap. And then admittedly regret your decision since the chilled water seeps into your nose killing all feeling to limbs and tim-

So I lost my train of thought because these girls just started to get louder. 

Yes Oscar (I've given up trying to learn it's names) your conversation is just as boring as your short story writing. Sorry that was mean. You were talking about dolls and shrines in your doll fanfic. 

Honestly in what world don't you know that the definition of Rude in a classroom is consent talking and disruption to the point one can't even hear themselves think. Oh sorry, you said you were from mars? Well then why don't you have alien k-pop men to write fanfic about? 

As you can see readers, I let a couple of children get to me. Well the good thing is that while I was trying to correct my horrendous grammar and spelling mistakes, they had worn down their "idle" chatting to a solid silence. Now maybe my words won't be underlined red all the time.

To be frankly honest with you, I do feel bad talking shit about them behind their backs while they are also talking shit behind some else's back. Though while we are on the subject of honesty, I don't generally care you are going to fail your math test tomorrow or you finished your bird cover for some Mary Sue story. 

Oh my god, I'm becoming into a grumpy old elder in a senior home. (I have seen this happen before and these things can't be unseen. It's downhill from here folks, you can only escape the retirement home on the scooter of death.) 

Now it was fun ranting to my non existent readers on my non existent story.  But I too will fail a test soon if I don't stop eves dropping. However it's impossible to think in this shit storm of a whispers. (I do hope your grade drops 20% Oscar's friend! Shut up already!) 

Of the wonderful life of a passive aggrieve shy shit sack like me. Maybe I will write me, maybe not. Either way, a bit of me is dying and contemplating wither a death sentence is better than listening to another stupid sentence these people have to say. 

Wish I could end my suffering,

Crying Writer

(Might delete later if I'm not dead.)