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Tara Stone's Not So Personal Journal
Day 1
Flower peddles fall in the dead of night. A tree had been blowing in the wind and the shriveled up blossoms slowly gliding to the cold, dead earth with which I am living. It is beautiful around here. Here as my own world inside my head. I have wished and commanded myself never to leave. However, my wish had never been granted to me as the deepest desires of my heart have been torn apart when I awake to the noise of my alarm clock and the screaming of someone dyeing. This is where I truly inhabit. A place of despair, conceitement of others around who have claimed their whole being to have been a lie or a repudiation of being terrible. That is all they have ever done. You can say such like that you want, however my fantasy is the closest to escaping from this hell I have been set upon. My only exit is within my dreams and deep within them I have found a hole. One where the earth could die around me and I would sleep. Sleep the day away while the sun buns the very surface of the earth and I awaken to the soft soot ground that fills the indentations of my feet below. The earth has died as I will never. I may die however with me my world will not. If you wish to visit me, I will be the only person there. And I will be wearing a beautiful flowing dress with blood stains on the sleeves and facade. Everyone had died off before the sun had incinerated the surface. I have killed them all. So maybe when you come and visit me, I will be waiting with a smile to tell you that there will be another solar flare.

Day2
Well, no one came to see me hitherto. That is a slight discouraging however I think there's got to be an explanation. Whether it is that they think there's not an adequate amount of room in my hole subversive that they can't fit or they think that I'm going to kill them...but that's just it. You never know what I'm going to do. I'm unpredictable and unaware of people's outlook toward me for the reason that no one every makes their feelings perceptible to me. This confuses me and makes me even more irritated and aggravated. And that's the time when people have to be petrified of me. I'm a strong person until something is taken away from me or something changes. If one of those two things occurs, I am lost and have nowhere to turn but down the road drenched in blood by my body and the bodies of others, lying on the earth by the path as I walk. This path goes to nowhere that I have found but occasionally while I am following it, I have to quarry another hole because I felt another solar flare coming. But that's just it. Digging those holes is my protection. Maybe one day I'll get tired of living off of killing people, and fill the holes and let the sun take me at its will. Perhaps that's what I'm predestined to do...maybe I'm supposed to die with my hands stained red and the very ground I walk on is invented to be desecrated in the blood of others...





 
 
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