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ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pm
tripled_mods) wrote in ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pmAPPLICATIONS -- 2010; 001
THIS APPLICATIONS POST IS CLOSED. Please direct your attention to the new one here!
tripled_mods) wrote in ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pm
Re: Daryan Crescend
They installed computer labs today. That's a freaking riot, seriously. What kind of prison blows their money on computers for scumbags like us, huh? I guess they think it's a good way to "help us deal" with everything and keep us calm, which is bullshit. Why don't they just waste the city's damn money on libraries and education or something, I don't fucking know. At least it'd be going to something useful. Hell, there's no point in computer labs if there's no Internet access. Not like half of us would even use it for anything productive, anyway.
Anyway, I'm not gonna do this whole "therapeutic write out our feelings" shit in this journal crap. I'm gonna write about whatever I want, and definitely not about my fucking feelings. Just gonna deal with this shit how I always do.
Now that I think about it, I'm already writing about my feelings, aren't I? Fuck.
Third Person:
Daryan sat in front of the computer, clacking away at the keys. He had been so adamant about not wanting to take part of the digital journal project, but ended up being the most frequent visitor. He suddenly stopped typing, staring at a word -- name, actually -- on the screen: Klavier.
"Damnit, this is gonna suck," he muttered, his fingers going slack against the keyboard. The last thing he wanted to write about was his best friend. At least, he used to be his best friend. He stared at the screen for a few minutes, then started tapping at the keys again.
Daryan stopped typing again, re-reading the last sentence he wrote. He scoffed, slumping back in his seat. The passion he used to have for the job? It was like it never existed. The moment his brain hatched that smuggling plan, no matter how strongly he felt about his job and beliefs, the passion he had for the law didn't matter anymore. Sometimes he doubted that he ever had it to begin with. Maybe he became a detective because it was 'cool', or something. He was pretty naive back in high school, after all.
"I...literally...don't even fucking know anymore," he said with a sigh. After staring at the block of text for a while, he lifted a single finger and pressed the Delete button.
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