Post by EÓIN MCLOUGHLIN on Aug 28, 2012 21:27:25 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; -moz-border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; border-radius:20px 0px 20px 0px; padding: 10px; border: #000000 solid 0px; ] stuck in this daydream. [style=font-family: helvetica; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing: 6px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center;]SASS FULL NAME: Eóin Louis McLoughlin ALIAS: Lou, Louis DATE OF BIRTH: 11/11/92 AGE: Nineteen OCCUPATION: Starbucks Worker, Sidewalk Artist SEXUALITY: Bisexual PLAY BY: Dylan O’Brien TOURIST [style=background-color: #664340; border: 10px solid #664340; font-family: georgia; letter-spacing: 10px; color: #ABA291; text-align: center;]all about me Hey there anyone bothering to read this, I’m Eóin Louis McLoughlin. The first name is pronounced like “owen” not “eeowyn” or whatever it was you were thinking. Actually just call me Lou or Louis since that’s like a billion times easier on all of us. It’s kinda physically painful when people mispronounce my first name; you’d think I’d be used to it by now but nope. My hearts made of puppies and one gets sick every time someone says it wrong. Okay not really but the visual should inspire people to call me by my middle name am I right? I’m right. [/style]More about me quick facts I’m shooting out there I’m nineteen years old right now, moving up to the big 20 on November 11th so be excited that day simply because it’s when I was born. I’m bisexual but my last I haven’t lived in the area too long, about three months now. Some people insist on calling me a tourist though I have an apartment and a job here and I have no plans to be leaving at the end of the summer or whatever but still with the tourist thing. Maybe I’ll convince someone to explain it to me some time since it would be nice to understand why with the “Tourist” title when I live here now. It actually doesn’t bother me all that much as I’m making it sound so I probably won’t ask anyone and I’ll just move on from that now shall I? Good. So okay the reason I’m now living here is kinda long and not pretty and just generally a pain in the ass to explain because it doesn’t feel good to talk about this stuff so when I have to it’s not nice but I guess it’s kinda something someone would need to know so here we go. It started with my parents dying in a car accident. Some guy thought it was a good idea to drive home after about twelve shots of tequila and his bright idea led to me being all alone at seventeen. I turned eighteen two months after that and Now I’m on my own in a much bigger way because yeah what kid honestly expects and plans for being on their own at eighteen. We talk a big game about getting out of our parents houses and going to college and being independent but honestly there’s a sense that even when you try that and fail you have home to go to and parents who’ll support you anyway right? Not an option. You may think I’m taking this too lightly as you read it…my words flippant and whatever. Fuck you very much for your opinion and next time keep it to yourself. Sometimes people can’t dwell or really think about the bad stuff for longer than a short bit or they get swallowed whole by it and end up drowning. I happen to like keeping my head above water so that’s what I’m doing. Second thing to happen, well technically I started dating my last boyfriend before they died, but he was there for me after it all happened and he let me live with him and helped me keep my head above water as I mentioned. I can admit my feelings for him ran pretty damned deep, I was head over heels in love with him until I came back from working and found him with another guy. That was the end of that and is the second thing that crushed me in the past year. I got money when my parents died, not much but enough to live off of for awhile and since I’d moved in with my ex I thought I could put it toward something like college or whatever and keep up with the plan I’d had before my parents died. Without somewhere to live that plan’s gone sour on me though so I moved here! Got a little apartment I’m working at Starbucks now to back up my money shortage and I do some sidewalk art. You know how people sit out on the sidewalk and draw/paint/whatever a picture of something local or random thing or those goofy pictures of you where they distort your face and you pay them to make you look downright goofy? Yeah I’m one of those people. Art’s always been a big thing, wanted to go for art in college, photography was going to be the major since I could do like wedding photo’s, graduation photo’s, or any kind of photo’s anyone could want and that would be a main money source while I sold my paintings, drawings, and other arts. College is a “maybe in the future” thing right now though so I try not to think about it since I got accepted I just can’t go and that’s yet another crushing blow. Okay so now I’m here and I’m working and I’m trying to stay artistic and that’s enough of the depressing before this takes a turn for the worse and becomes my worst nightmare which would be me breaking down and anyone reading seeing that. CLEAN CUP MOVE DOWN. Alice in Wonderland for any heathen who didn’t get that reference. God go watch a Disney movie. The mad hatter? He’s a boss. So now you know about my past or at least some of it I mean I didn’t cover growing up because honestly it’s just average and normal. My parents were good loving people and we were a close family. There. But what I’m getting at now is what I’m like I guess? You know the actual person not the person’s story or background or the tale but the person himself. Why the hell are you still reading this by the way? Don’t you have anything better to do? I gave up reading this back after the first sentence so ha. Okay so I’m a joker? I like a good joke I happen to make things into a joke even when I’m not trying and there is basically no brain to mouth filter anywhere on me. So what happens in the brain comes out the mouth unfiltered and uncut even though it probably should be both filtered and cut like a movie shown during the day when kids could be watching and their parents don’t care enough to pay attention to what they’re watching but that won’t stop them from sueing the tv station if they find out little jimmy or jessica’s been watching that horrible filthy movie so they cut out the horrible filthy and leave you with a shell of a movie to watch. I am at times painfully honest because of the lack of brain to mouth filter, if you’re going to ask me about something you should seriously expect it to be exactly what I think. I have no sugar to coat it with for you. Less the neighbor will lend me a cup. So on that note I’ll tell you that if I get all serious and less hyperactive and crazy? You know shit’s gotten real okay? Normally I’m really outgoing, hyperactive, and crazy. Serious is not a normal thing for me. It means that whatever I’m talking about or doing is a big deal and should be taken as a big deal. Or you know that it’s depressing and I don’t want to talk about it but most often I get overly jokey with depressing stuff in an attempt to make the sad go away so whatever right? Outgoing, Annoying, Hyper, Friendly, Cuddly, Dorky, Geek, Loyal, Stupid, Artistic, Crazy, Sweet, Loveable in a friend way, Loser, Winner, SPECIAL-ed, Creative, Lonely, Feisty, Sharp-Temper, Intelligent, Supportive, Broken, Sad, Faker. Those are all things I’ve heard people use to describe me. Only one of them is false and that’s the Faker bit. I don’t fake who I am, that’s just not my style because honestly why bother living a lie? Really? It just screws shit up in the end doesn’t it? You have to remember the shit you faked and if you forget you’re in deeper shit than if you just told the truth. Simple reality right there. No I’m not fake, what you see is what you get with me and that’s all there is to it. So that’s all I’m saying about me because what the heck else would you really need to know that you can’t just figure out on your own? I mean it’s simple right just start a conversation and get to know a person don’t spend forever on a website reading about them and learning that way because you don’t actually get to know someone fully by reading. You just don’t. Ignore those romantic movies where they write love letters and fall madly head over heels for each other just because of words on paper because those are movies people. Movies. Right? So that’s the basic’s of me and honestly if you’re still reading get a life. Because reading this is not a good use of your time…trust me I’d know. Go do something else somewhere else away from this page and forget you saw it because hell that’s how it goes right? You read something, forget about it…then like a week later something slaps you in the face and reminds you of what you read and you get a chuckle then you go back to forgetting and the vicious cycle is restarted. Or maybe that’s just me? I don’t know. Oh did I mention my apartment drama anywhere in here? No? Yes? Maybe? I’m doing it now so if you’ve read it already go on and do that getting a life away from this page thing we talked about yeah? So anyway the apartment I’m renting is a two person space, and when I got the place the owner mentioned me getting a roommate here and how I don’t even get to pick the roommate. Yeah them are some sucky apples right? If this place didn’t fit like perfectly into my price range I’d leave but you know not much I can do about it so yay I’m getting some random stranger to live with that may or may not be a psycho-killer since I don’t know anything about this person till they move in and I can find out. Fun times. Now go do that life thing we talked about, find one, live it, enjoy it, watch out for the crazy people like me because we will drag you into our crazy land of insane. TOODLES. |
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