SHIT I WRITE WHILE TIRED - HASH 7

I once knew a guy, he just wouldn't die, it took 17 bullets just to immobilise him. After that a guy called Johnty started laying into him with a egg cup, it was the first thing he could grab, his temper was erratic. The guy on the floor was more than erratic, he was immortal, in more ways than one. I mean the guy had a lifebar like everybody else, but the fucker just wouldn't go down. You could stop his heart from beating and the guy would still be there laughing up at you, he was that unstoppable. He defied pain barriers and death barriers, you could electrocute or burn him and he would just sit up and sing 'burn baby burn right there in your face', and the worst thing is the motherfucker had one of those toothless grins, which made it all the more infuriating.

Anyways, my story is not about him. Its about someone else. Another human being, I can't be arsed telling you his name. But as long as you know it, then we're good. Or maybe not as this written piece transcends into something mind blowing that just plays tricks with your adrenaline.

Readers don't make the best writers. True writers don't follow the rules and regulations, the boundaries of man. They write from their heart, with passion and their sole intention is to make an impact on the reader. Not just any ol' impact, but the maximum damage.

Words are dispensable, anybody can speak a thousand words and not say shit, which is what the likes of Orwell and . Poets are the same, writing metaphors that are so much within their own skin they lose their identity, the everyday man in the street doesn't want to read that shit, they want creative writing to be to the point. Human beings were born in Layman's garden. People want their stories to be simple, direct and most of all relatable. Hell if I could write a full novel in text messaging, I fucking would. You need to lift the reader's emotions and expectations with every single crummy sentence in the goddamn story, none of this 'start the story slow just to ease the reader in to it' bullshit. The readers want to be captivated and taken on a rollercoaster ride from the first second. It is much more difficult to capture people's emotions with words than with sound and imagery. I would start a story with something like:

Chapter One:

The End. This is how it felt at the moment for Dave and his family, they felt as though they had reached the end of an era. This was because the giant Hollywood letters had been removed from the top of Mount Lee and replaced with ERA. This family had literally climbed up on top of the letter A. They had also reached the end of an era because they were threatening to jump down to their bone crunching deaths. There was a guy stood at the bottom though who had a fetish for bone breaking sounds and was willing them to jump, he was shouting:

'Jump jump jump so I can get a lump lump lump. In my trousers.'

It was sick. But we are living in a world gone mad. This suicidal family wanted to live in a 'mad world gone' instead. Not only was a guy singing jump jump jump, but there was a guy at the side of him playing a grand piano with an incredible cover version of Enjoy The Silence, a guy called Mark Dwyer (name changed due to libel/death threats). He started singing 'feelings are intense, words are trivial.' The Cock Chugging Chimps were also there, they had cancelled their busy worldwide tour schedule just to see this suicide attempt.

'Wouldn't miss this for the world mate.'

'Words are meaningless and forgettable......'