Heeeeeee. Sherlock fanvid e.e

Yes. I got very bored. This 1:43 (one minute, forty-three seconds) video took me five hours (roughly) to make. LOLOLOL.

Hee Sherlock.

Random music musings.

K. So. My friend Alex forced me to put my music on shuffle and write something based on the style of music. Here's what I got before I got bored. Each paragraph represents a song, almost. Hee.

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We dance in the neon light of the social pressure, forming down upon us, coalescing into clouds of poison gas as it smothers us into its oppressive ways. Our rebel inside, the spirit within, dies, the clone reigns supreme. Nothing can stop this pressure to be perfect in the eyes of society. We are the cells of our nation, simply fitting in. The world is the dance floor, but we have no idea what it is we’ve got to be doing. Our breath is taken from us as we stand, caked in the toxins that are sold at extortionate prices, in the crowds, staring at the stick thin models and wishing to be like them. We want to be them. We need to be them. Our hearts and souls burn to be them. It is more than a desire – it is a fervent need. Dance, dance, dance, and conform, my minions! Show us your spirit so that we may crush it. Bathe us in your millions upon millions of pounds, feed us with your lifeblood.

Scream into the microphone. Tell us your pains, your sorrows, your pities. Show us how you think, how you live, how you love. Show us your breath so that we may steal it, show us your soul so that we may destroy it, show us yourself so we may possess you. These foreign words, murmured, shouted, screamed, called out, sung, cried, we do not understand. These words, blurred together, formed into one. We know your shame, so bad that it will kill you. The scent of your hair, your sweat, your life calls to us. We need you. We are your societal vampires. Will you fight?

But you never wanted to fight with anybody, but us. Spin around, twirl, flirt and laugh. We will release you. You are our agent and when we want you, we will have you. Your inner will is formed as part of ours. You can think for yourself, but all your thoughts are ours. You can’t take no for an answer, you will carry on until they agree. You will be our minion, our child born of deceit and the hype created by the media. Will you agree to that? Will you allow yourself to be brainwashed? Is that what you want? Brainwashed. Spinning. Laughing. Drinking. Flirting. Fighting. Living. We envy you for it. We want what you have. We want to be you. We will become you.

Sway, skip, jump with joy. Move that body! Swing you head, spray out your hair. Grind with the men, the women, move without care. Raise your hands up in the air! Drag one hand down, over your face, your lips. Don’t lose the beat. Free yourself, feel wild. Ignore the dark undertones of life as he moves his hand down and cradles your ass with one hand, stroking the back of your thigh. Move away, your mouth moving too quickly, no sound escaping from your lips. Still dancing, move yourself away. Get away but still love the life of the night. The societal pressure is the last thing on your mind. You just want to dance. So dance ‘til your last heartbeat, your last breath, your last pupil dilation. We will not mind.

You return home all too late. A ghost appears, following you, whispering slowly into your ear. Whispering sweet nothings, ignoring your drunken mutterings of hallucinations and following you as you crash into the sofa, falling down and into a dark, sweet, numbness. It doesn’t last. You awaken to screams and the sensation of liquid dragging over you.

Beep Beep Beep. Your alarm clock. It was all a dream. Relief sweeps over you. No ghosts, no screaming, no liquid that smelt of your last boyfriend and blood. You move your hand in a half-asleep motion to stop the incessant beeping. You press the button, but the beeping grows louder. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. You press the button again, hoping for it to end so you can fall back to sleep, back into the temporary abyss you call home. It doesn’t work.

You’ve died. You’ve entered Hell.

WOLFHOME

Amazing place. Yes. WolfHome <3
That’s the place with those fun little wolf avatars. Amazing artwork, yes? Oyes. These avatars: RANDOM PICTURE DAY
Kso. I’m called Meredelain there. You coming to join us or are you going to be a dork and go play D&D original edition… even though I play it sometimes. :P

Just join the site already!

Wolfhome Avatar Web Chat - Online Virtual World

Yawnish.

Sleepy. It’s like. 6:38pm. And I haven’t slept last night. And I have school in the morning. But school is boring. AND I missed PE so yeah. I like this past fortnight. No PE. Off most of last week.

Squirr is amazing. Like. Better than Hedgehog. And apparently she has a large dick. But Mike… omoosey ;) Those antlers are Sexy as Fuck. With capital letters. Cause that’s how sexy they is. And now I’m bored. Yeah. The guys made me write that. Anyway.

I has a website for my Jack the Ripper Investigation.

http://JtRinvestigation.yolasite.com

I am amazing, yes? LMFAO. I gotta do my way overdue geography homework. Later, readers.

OMG GEOGRAPHY HOMEWORK is so boring.

I have to do Geography Homework. It was due last Monday but I forgot to do it, thanks to a certain Eli. So yeah. I was gonna do it yesterday but got distracted. I’ve been given two extended deadlines and missed both of them due to illness, so I have to hand it in tomorrow. But it’s so boring. Even sleep is more interesting than composing a thingy on India. I’m not even entirely sure what I’m meant to do. My teacher wasn’t in half the time and I couldn’t say on the day it was due “Um, miss, I Didn’t understand the homework.” because then I’d have looked like a right fool. Which, ok, I might be – but I’m still a sociopath at heart.

Anyway. Tomorrow I also begin my cake assessment. I’m gonna make a chocolate cake and for the decoration, I’m gonna hollow out a chunk of it, fill most of it with chocolate butter icing and also make green butter icing to create grass. Why am I doing this, do you ask? Why – I’m making a mud wallow for a hippopotamus cake! Because I’m amazingly original like that. :P

Anyway, I’d better get back to work. I don’t want a detention. Oooh, Mike’s online. I Guess I can do it later…