4:36AM still awake, need sleep, need slumber, no respite till' my sister's friends leave. I hate sleepovers, I've realized I'm not that much of a social person, babysitting 5 year olds is 1000+ times better then dealing with a bunch of otaku middle schoolers that think they're saying something deep because they found it on tumblr or instagram.
I realized I'm a very normal person compared to these people, I know why most people make fun of them, I'm weird, but not screaming about some dork with a tail weird. I've been playing Hotline Miami 2 for nearly 5 hours, I'm twitchy, my fingers and eyes ache, the synth pulses in my head like a neverending percussion, the violence paints my LSD TV in beautiful shades of red that boldly contrast with my tan room and the colors of the rooms on the TV. Yes, I wrote LSD, because that's what Hotline Miami 2 on that TV is, pure LSD ecstasy.
Reading the above paragraphs make me look like a sleep deprived madman who hasn't even closed his eyes, its because I am a sleep deprived madman who hasn't had a wink of slumber. When your door keeps getting unlocked, and one of their weird friends tries to unlock the bathroom door when you're in there. That's when you say, "You know what, I think for once, I have an excuse to hit someone... really fucking hard... in the face. And to hell with gender." I don't like my privacy being violated, at all, I don't care if you're the Pope, you unlock my bathroom door when I'm in there, I'll tear you limb from limb like some Bathsalts Florida Zombie Man.
If I still awaken as a madman, then I ask of one thing. Commit me to Arkham for whatever Eldricth horror I've seen on those TVs has probably melted my functioning regions of my brain, or if you have mercy fucking shoot me so I don't write something this fucking mellowdramatic again.
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