Listen to the old days...

I like it when it's cold. And I like this darkness. And being home alone...
Head is pounding...


You know what? I don't, haha.
I would say, however, that feels nice to be alone. But that's not what is in question here. Let's see, I like listening to these songs I used to listen in the past. Things like Hell Song, it's awesome. I find it weird how people tend to change their tastes and then label as trash things they really really liked. You see, things that they listened when there was no one around. Not what you hear because your friends listen to it and you get used to listening.
Well, maybe I'm not the one who is supposed to be speaking about it since I'm quite averse to changes. As a friend of mine once wrote, people have gotta be consistent in what they say.
Well, it's quite hard to quote this since I don't feel I'm very consistent, still, my opinion about myself is a bit... well, that's not the topic.
So, back on topic, we were talking about how cool the city looks at night. When the building have all their lights on for a full-blown attack of awesomeness. Gotta love it. I don't know, it feels good to walk around when it's dark but there's a lot of lights. It's a different occasion, compared to walking during the day. Well, that's quite obvious.
I would like to know why do I always need feedback on things, are people really so strong on their own as I feel they are? Because the only real example I can relate to is myself and this one is quite... lost, let's say. He needs people telling him what to do. But, if it matters to you, he's working on it.
Well well well, man I really need someting to do now. Feels kinda bored even though I know I've already gotten duties to fulfill.
Hope someone's drawing. Hope, I don't quite like this word, but who cares. It's just a word anyway, like Satan, and people tend to demonize a word. As if saying it made any kind of difference. There are lots of people out there using good words and doing bad deeds, but okay, you all want to keep on playing dumb, we'll play dumb. I don't care, that's how the world plays and I'd rather stop it through destruction that through some miraculous deed that made it all better. Simply because the latter is impossible, you are all damned.
I like listening to songs wrongly. Like, creating the lyrics in your head according to what you hear. It's fun.
Fun... what is fun lately?
I'm not entirely sure. Eating can be fun... oh well, let's move on.
I'm a bit afraid still, it sucks. Gotta listen to a bit more of The boy who destroyed the world. Good days.


Some people live for revenge.

A day writing

HEY!
What?
What are you doing?
Writing.
OH MY GOD! Can I write too?!
No.


What about now?
No.
And if I make this face?
Still a no.


I was told that writing is for silly boys.
Then go write.
SWEET! I'll go now and write!
...
Hey, fellow writer, what will we be writing about?

Reloading

I wish I could sleep. I don't know exactly what does that mean.
Oh, yeah, I know.
I wish there was one girl to make me sleep.


Gotta hate those slow days.
Funny how everything that seemed the least interesting to write about, disappears when you actually get to write. One of these demon days. Lots of things to fix in my head.
Why do we appreciate the company of those that cannot be around?

Doomed

You're alone. The gates ahead have already opened. You know there's no way back, you know there's no one waiting for you outside these rooms. Everyone else is dead. You're the last human alive. Their claws... like iron, scarring the walls. Ripping the flesh out of their bodies... you remember each one of your fellows agonizing, screaming for mercy. You remember shooting one of your old friends in the head. That was all the mercy anyone could have had. You wondered why were you still alive after all, each room a new horde, a new loss. They never stop, you barely know what are you dealing with... all you know is that they never stop killing. Everyone who could help now serve as decoration, a clue of what has happened, when hell broke loose. They are coming for you, and these cold walls are the only witnesses you have. You ready your gun, wondering if all the bullets in the world would ever be enough. Mentally, you're already lost, it doesn't feel like there's a reason to be fighting. Yet, your body refuses to give up. Every shot gives you a new hope that perhaps the battle can be won. But you know it can't, and it feels stupid to think that you're avenging your fallen comrades. There's no more reason. They are coming... You're doomed...

Freely inspired in Sign of Evil, soundtrack to E1M8...