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| i joined the army. ill be back in 5 years
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| And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth. | | |
| My alarm when off. It was that time a day again. My phone told me it was technically morning, but when its this early, when its this dark outside... your splitting hairs. I lay in disgust on my new sofabed. Im so tired my stomache turns, i gag. An odd reaction, i guessed but givin the circumstances of my new lifestyle, i shrugged it off. A second alarm sounded, from my computer this time. It begged for my attention. I roll towards the computer that sat on the coffee table. I slapped the keys till it made no more noise. I need to get dressed. I struggled out of bed and dragged myself the ten feet to my closet. ~sigh~ After i donned my black and whites, i grabbed my bag, knife kit, and a vitamin water, and i was off.
I marvel every morning i walk down to hollywood blvd. Not because of the glamor and glitz of hollywood, but because of the stillness. The eire emptiness of a once roaring sidewalk. The silent roadways. i seemingly stumbled into a closed amusement park. No cars, no buses, no people. Not even the bums dare turn their cups out at this hour. When i do cross the occasional pedestrian, a common bond is formed in our silent passing. We are a part of a shadow culture, existing only when you sleep. We know what tired truely is. But we say nothing. A nod, and all is said.
I arrive at school. I see the faces of my fellow classmates and they all ask the same question; why am i paying to get up this early? No use talking to anyone yet. were all talking about how tired we are and i dont feel like competing. I strap on my miscilanious garb that my class requires and i head off down the hall. I dont want to be here. But i have to. "Good morning, class.", started Chef Knight.
"Good morning, Chef."
Here we go...
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| I reak. I smell of aromatics; garlic, shalots and onions. The forever flesh penetrating smell in which my career choice has sentenced me to. I stripped the clothes i wore to work quickly, as to not upset the neutral smell of my living room (which also happens to be my bedroom, and dining room). As i let my body relax on the couch and asess the damage i had done to it throughout the day, I beg Orange St. to stop making so much noise. Its not that i have a headache, but the constant sounds make you feel so hectic. Its a wednesday night and my neighbors are loudly discussing going to the bar to become even drunker. Do they really not have work tomorrow, or are the just "free spirits"? Feeling the migraine-like pain leave my feet, i decided it was time to shower.
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