Someone pulled the fire alarm two minutes before the dismissal bell rang today. I was non-plussed, being made to go outside without fully packing up and cleaning up my art supplies.
Currently decaling (read: painting thin layers of plastic onto printed images) for my sketchbook assignment. Estimated time of completion: 4 hours. Sadly, I'm not exaggerating.
I feel that it is time to break out the Janis Joplin CD. Or the handcuffs.
I just need to feel some sort of retribution for what I've done these past two weeks. Yes, the guilt is killing me. Yes, I need a little abuse to validate myself. Why? Even I don't know. But I have the urge to be tied up, hand cuffed, or strapped down and thoroughly bashed. Not so much the cutting of flesh, but being slammed into walls and panes of glass will suffice. Or being bitten.
Either or, I want blood drawn.
. . . . . posted:||9:15 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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