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Fictional Writings of Elleander Grey


  • Elleander’s First Journal Log.<br><br> I wish I could say it was for passion that I continue with these thoughts but alas it is not. The boredom that drowns out the day and adheres to my apathy proceeds hailing 'onward' like a cup of tea. My brain is a putrid swallowing of remorse for myself. A decision lacking sense of self yet questioning everything and every thought slows my heart until a sharp pain writhes in my chest. But it's just as well considering the state of things. Emitting from the earth these days is a strained and tired young man blindfolded and staggering. The existence of this human meanders from place to thought and thought to place drawing no conclusions, comparisons, observations or even thought of the two. This blind eccentric sort of character is barely worth mentioning in any chronicle or recording of the human race. He is a clear faced bright eyed slick hair and milky bodied heap of work-out-in-a-gym flesh that is a flacid dicked groveling brainless and pointless piece of clay. And when mixed with beer this jelly fish of a man saunters, threatens and drunk fucks his wide eyed and fat lippy slitted whores. Thankfully there is something else. Somewhere in a porch chair deep in the swamp infested south of Louisiana beckoning the crossroads of Robert Johnson with a middle-fingered slaute in one hand and a joint in the other is our savior. His name is Clark. But let us move swiftly to the point of this story. Drugs. Drugs are the motivation of this story. Because without drugs there would be no drugs. Do you see? If there would be no drugs then we would be without drugs. And with this we come to our conclusion. Without drugs there would be no drugs. "I need to talk to you." Jasmine grabbed Clark by the arm and forced all of her sixth-sense frontal lobe concentration into an ‘I will fuck your dick off ‘gaze on him. Clark himself was immobile despite her persuasion. Still she beckoned him, pulling his arm, struggling to lead him down the stairs. She wanted him away from the others straggling around the booze on the porch. Their despicably suspicious and obvious eavesdropping posture annoyed her. On this special night these annoying spectators would drink and laugh into oblivion until they unclothed each other and fucked themselves to sleep. Oh yes, and if you happened to be present that night, you must immediately go fuck your self. Remember, Drugs. Jasmine takes drugs. But lets immediately distinguish her drugs from other drugs. And lets distinguish abuse from addiction as well. Let us discuss, contemplate, and forget. Becuase Jasmine is a god-foresaken father fucking for cock-jizz guzzling but give me something free and I’ll give you my fuck piece of fuck ass slut slit of flesh. She is a D.N.A. experiment of sabertooth african wolf scorpion deathspiders in human shape weaving a spitting cobra's poison web of lies into this world. Yes, well. Let’s start with the cocaine. Jasmine is addicted to anything that goes in your nose or is white and can potentially enter your body. She dabbles in other coca and opiate based methamphetamine substances as well. However, her abuse is not her drug use. Her abuse is something kissable, loveable, and even fuckable. Her abuse is men. But let us not call them men. They are the staggering blind of forever buried in the puke of adolescence that I no longer wish to mention. But the development of character is important to any story, and it must be established that Jasmine lets them fuck her. Every shape and size, the big, the beautiful, the plebian animals of the magnificently large penis wielding clean shaven tan skinned egyptians. They fuck her. And it is your own goddamn fault that these are the men of this earth. These are the grovelling self-content to be dominated by whorish elven monsters that graze our earthen heritage. These creatures allow women like Jasmine to be carried through life on their shoulders as some rare sacred jewel. And you are one of them. But Clark is not. Before I take us back to the conversation at the base of the stairs between this snarling beast and our hero let us move backward in time to the beginning.
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