i hate writing fiction

and when i think of it, my fingers turn to fists.
i hate writing fiction.

you understand, dontcha?

i mean, now i get it why some dude said writing is simple, you just sit at a typewriter and open a vein.

i scoffed him before because writing on a blog is not like that, i just tell the truth on a daily basis and there's enough in the truth to get me by.

i like describing things, i think i'm good at that. but actually telling a story i'm very, very bad at.

the story i'm turning in to my fiction class today is very, very bad.

i don't like it.

they're not going to like it. it's going to be very hard for me to pretend i don't care when they rip it apart next week, even though i don't like it myself and i would do the same.

i'm giving myself the next hour to finish it, then i'm going to print it out and not look at it again. then i'm going to study a little for my german test, then i'm going to do my german homework. then i'm going to go to german class, try not to fall asleep too badly, take my little test, and come back home. on my way home, i'm going to the paper clip, the little copy shop down the street, and i'm getting 17 copies of my story made.

then i'ma come home and catnap, then i'll do my other homework for writing class, then i'll go to writing class.

see? i suck at telling any sort of linear narrative thingyjiggy.

you know what the best part of my story is, though?

the title:

"How to be a Holy Roller"

it's definitely an offensive story to some, and it's not going to go on my fiction blog until i have a more finished copy of it than what i'm giving my fiction class.

and i hate today.
and everytime i have to write an assignment i wish for the rapture to hurry up and happen already.
even though i am probably considered a goat, not a sheep.
read the bible, you'll get it then.
and now, i'm going to go write the rest of my story, whatever the story is.