Dark

Mr. Bieber is fucked up. I discovered that my freshmen year at Harvard. He is a fucked up man,person, thing. Not the sexy I can fix you fifty shades fucked up no,he's seriously fucked. I got into Harvard with my writing and when I first met my English professor I wanted to write about him. Wanted to make him come alive in my work in a way that he would never be in person. I've written a whole story and threw it in the flames of the camp fire my sophomore year while my friends encouraged me. I was half way through another book,about him of course, my junior year but another fire took that one too. Now here I am 26 years old sitting in a church with people I don't know. Watching women cry into their tissues and men looking straight forward with no emotion. I've come to conclusion that I hate funerals. I mean I always have but I specifically hate this one. My senior year was , is suppose to be the best year of my life. Next year I'll have my degree and i will be sitting up in my own office at the New York Times headquarters but right now,I'm sitting in gods office. I'm sitting in a place I haven't been in years and being here I feel like a sin. One big sin that has a dark mass following it. I'm a darkness but my oh my Mr.Bieber was darker.