I am reading stuff about writing, I will probably become very annoying in the next couple weeks
Sunday, Mar. 20, 2005 - 10:36

I just watched Adaptation. I laughed and laughed and it was hilarious. You can write anything. (Actually, maybe it was true and I was laughing while people were really dying and I'm heartless.) (Oh no, it said "in loving memory of Donald Kaufman" at the end. Was it true?) (My stinking internet connection is down, I can't check this out.) (I can't post this either then, so I can't make an ass out of myself yet.) (Internet, come back!) (Why? Why? Stupid internet! What will I do?) (I just typed 'what' with my hands on the wrong keys and now I'm trying to reenact it but I can't.) (Internet, come back!) (Still not back. I will go hang out in my room for a while.) (I'm back, still no internet, gah!!) (And again.) (Bastard, fuck it, I'm going to bed, maybe the internet will be back tomorrow.) (Internet is back, I'm okay.)

Here is my entry for the Exciting Spring Writing Contest. Don't read it if you're still planning to enter, you wouldn't want to get any ideas, would you? Entries are still being accepted for a short time. Part of it is true, guess which part:

I woke up and the sun was shining brightly. It was a lovely morning, sunny and warm and beautifully breezy. Unfortunately I didn't want that at all, I wanted to continue to sleep. So I went outside to pull out the shade.

A man walked by. He stared, and I realized I was naked. Embarrassed, I ran inside and put on my pink pajamas. I went back outside to finish with the shade.

I heard a wail. It was the cat, Banjo.

"Banjo, what are you doing?" I yelled. Banjo is Siamese and very loud. Therefore, he has three legs.

That was when everything started happening.

"It's already March!" I heard a woman yell. "Marjorina, what are you doing?"

I heard a small snapping noise, and an abandoned yell, and then I saw one of my neighbors get into her car and drive away quickly. She squealed the tires.

Then I saw her mother, Mrs. Heist, stagger out of her house, clutching her red flowing stomach. She fell onto the sidewalk, her legs on the top step and her head on the bottom step.

Then her husband came outside. He surveyed the situation.

"Jesus Christ," he said. He ambled back inside. I ran inside and called the police.

Approximately one minute later, a squadron of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks arrived. Mrs. Heist was still deposited upon the sidewalk upside-down. Mr. Heist had shut the door.

A gaggle of policemen ran up the sidewalk to the door. The first one sort of stumbled over Mrs. Heist but recovered and managed not to fall.

They knocked on the door: "Open up! Come out with your hands up!"

I heard Mr. Heist inside yelling "Who is it?"

One of the policemen yelled "It's the police!"

Mr. Heist opened up the door and peered out. "What do you want?"

"Come out with your hands up!" they yelled.

Mr. Heist did so.

Just then, the police captain, who had walked up the sidewalk and stopped next to Mrs. Heist, yelled out, "She's dead!" at the same moment a car around the corner backfired.

The policemen opened fire on Mr. Heist, riddling his body with bullets. In the crossfire they also managed to kill two of themselves, which made them shoot even more.

Everyone stopped shooting after a few minutes.