✾ 『 second hit 』 | (ip/communicator ID blocked)
[ private to Chris D'Amico | OBJECT ]
At 7:00 PM on June 15th, 2010 a note crashed through a window of Chris D'Amico's apartment, carried by a throwing knife. It made perfect mark and tacked the note securely into the wall.
[/private]
You might say pain's like getting punched in the chest face or kicked in the face shins. That's the basic type, the trivial stuff that goes away as soon as you suck it up.
Real pain's the feeling you get when you're about to succeed. After you've tried over and over again, and when you find your ass kicked to the point where you can barely stand. That's when you're on the edge of genius, you know. When it hurts that bad, you know you can't give up.
Metaphorically.
Pain is-
Pain is knowing that we won't ever again have hot fudge sundaes together.
I'm not good at the essay thing, but I think that's all right. Got to the point, didn't waste time on fluff.
Onto other matters: Anyone hiring? Just because I'm a kid, doesn't mean I can't handle your grown-up tasks.