frankenstein Blog and Journals

I dont know where i come up with these things... I mean how many people do you know day dream about sitting in the middle of central park, sipping on an ice cold pina colada slurpee, playing chess and checkers in the fall where the leaves are crunchy and vibrant warm tone colors, with thee one and only...Frankenstein. Bolts, extremely large forehead, box shaped head with midnight black hair and pale and december snow. His eyes are barley open and his veins are popping out of his skin, his clothes are rippied and torn like your left overs that were thrown down the garbage disposable. His stenck is like a rotting corse, and right when you think it couldnt get any scarier, He cracks a smile, takes my hand and we skip to the candy store for those chocolate coins and candy necklacks. We sat on a park bench monching on our goodies, while we talked about the past, which his just went on and on and on since he manages to live while being dead at the same time. He doesnt quite understand why people are so quick to judge him. I told him that i could have something to do with the way he looks on the outside; as a big tear the size of juipitar rolled down the tip of his nose, he burried his face in those monsterous size hands, his nails were almost black since his blood hasnt been circulating for the last million years, I told him that it was on the inside that counts, which he replied with "I have no insides, im dead" which he was right, but I told him that i'd be his friend till the end, he gave me a hug and we continued skipping.

Then I snapped back into reality and continued working.