I'm working on a short story in an entry that obviously isn't posted yet. I'm still not sure whether it will end up on this site or I'll get arrogant and try to get it published in a contest or something. We'll see. But I am pleased with the way that it's developing.
The last few nights have been ones of debauchery. I've encountered the police on no less than three separate occasions, none of which were due to errors in my judgement but rather stupid people around me, misunderstandings and simple coincidence. The conclusion?
The world is out to get me.
No, not really. I can't even feign a Glenn-Beck-ian persecution complex for an instant. Shit that happens is the fault of the shitter. The illuminati aren't out to get you, and there certainly aren't any crazy lizard people waiting in the wings, trying to bring about humanity's downfall.
Now if you excuse me, I have to go shed my skin.