xxalien9xx

I'm late for my followers and loyal readers! I hate myself, I've got no excuses not to update. It's just, procrastination and ADHD. I hope you can still read it. :P

The Breakfast Club drives me fucking crazy in a good way and I love it. Who would like me to read their works?

Thank you for all the follows I have! Even if I don't thank you, I internally am grateful.

I am.
          
          Weasel.

May 4, 1976
          
          It is seen through the cracked glass. The glass has shown dark times and little glisten of hope. Sunlight rarely passes through the slight, jagged cracks of Misery itself. The house represents Hopelessness, anxiety, and overall fear.
          
          The foundation was built and consists of anger. If you take a glimpse into the beyond ages, eyes can see the horrors.
          
          The small boy looks into the scattered glass shards of a mirror. It gives him melancholy silence that is unresolved, as his eye received another animalistic punch. There was no remorse when his father was clear of his actions and malicious intentions. A pair of clear white, healthy, strong set of sharp teeth expose into the waters of his mouth. He made a facial expression of anger. His teeth were guided to each other, as if they loved each other for centuries.
          
          A low sociopathic chuckle came out from his mouth. His body was that of incomplete humanity. He was half beast, half human.
          
          Possibly not even human at all.

Violence.
          
          Anger.
          
          Hatred.
          
          Whatever those fucking words were, I knew they applied to me. Big Bad Harv wasn't finished yet. I needed to place a bullet through Thorne's skull. He needed to be fucking eliminated!
          
          I ran after his fat-ass. "Gimme that file!" I shouted after him, running as fast as I could.
          
          -----
          
          I notice the doctor looks scared. The nurse drops everything.
          
          In the mirror, I saw what was utterly fucking hideous.
          
          MY FUCKING FACE! THAT SON OF A BITCH MARONI IS GONNA GET IT TO HIM IF HE KNOWS WHAT'S GOOD FOR HIM DAMNIT!
          
          Harvey stands there quiet. He is Pure, Uncorrupt, Naive, Goody Two Shoes. His pure white suit with his handsome face none-disfigured appearing proud and brightly. Harvey's face is serious, discomforted. His bright white aura surrounding the darkness between us two both, now feels faint.
          
          I however look Ugly, ill-mannered, my hair's a crazy-ass mess, and my suit is black. It has dry blood stains.
          
          Our auras morph together. And so do we.
          
          Pain.
          
          Torment.
          
          Abuse.
          
          Anger.
          
          Injustice.
          
          A fucking coin.
          
          Now WE are one.

Thanks for following me 

I felt incomplete. There was something wrong with me. My body didn't seem perfect. It was....Putrid, Disgusting, and Unacceptable. I had blackheads all over my back, upper and lower. Maybe even add that idiocy of a face I contained that should be quarentined. Overgrown body hair, scalp hair a ratted brown mess, ages of dirt, wounds, and starvation showed. I wanted to cut this foul body open, rip a new one from the soul of Jesus and let it out. My real body. I had breasts that were small, I hated it. Nothing was in between that belonged. Guys don't get periods, not that I got one in a while because of where I'm imprisoned. And certainly guys don't have a uterus or a cervix.
          
          Imagine a long, such an enormous dick in between your legs without breasts. And hella short hair. Add some balls, too. That's what I envisioned myself as ever since I was a wee but shy kid of 5. My depression's kinda shit but whatever. I didn't care what kids said about my clothes, or if I dressed to my true gender, because deep inside I was never Dana. I was Dale. Dale Stockhester. I have paranoia, only because of this hell-hole. I was here, at this camp for straightening out kids that were mentally ill because of being trans. I'm stuck here. I'm counting the 13 years I was placed here. I'm 23 years of age. Taking a comb I have, and seeing a blade, I figure it's time to cut this hell of a mess.
          
          It only takes me two hours to get out all the knots but quickly I chop my hair ends off. Now it's short up to my ears. Will have to do I guess. I'm about 90 pounds,  good thing my breasts are shrinking. I smile in the mirror but frown quickly. So much dirt on my face. The room is small but I know I won't be allowed to leave. Oh well. I think about my escape plan.
          
          Tomorrow I will come up with an escape plan. And I can be Dale freely outside of Hell, in the world.

Guess what guys?! I'm absolutely loving this class! Taekwondo to be exact. Oh man, was I sweaty! The instructor and Master Perry are awesome and patient. I couldn't have utterly been blessed with this Martial Arts thing//
          
          Such a money's worth. If you don't overthink the course and such, you should be fine! Plus all the kids are nice, not a phony nice, a genuine nice that shows you how good the service is! Course the stretching isn't a joke, but I actually learned a thing or two! This class is engaging, fun, and exciting! It even boosts your self esteem and makes "endorphins" rise the next day!
          
          Oh man oh man, I can't wait for the next time! Good thing I took it the hours of 7:45 pm-8:40 I believe. It can help you feel exhausted or sleepy enough so you'll //sleep//
          
          Thanks for wishing me luck! I feel like I've improved each day. :)

I'm going to a karate class tonight. I'm kinda nervous but excited! Wish me luck bros.