Post by Dime Thurman on Jun 30, 2013 14:42:42 GMT -8
THURMAN, DIME H.
DIME HARRISON THURMAN TWENTY-ONE BRITISH UNEMPLOYED BISEXUAL BIBLICAL STUDIES DO YOU MISS THE BLEND OF COLOURS SHE HEIGHT: 5'2" WEIGHT: 137lb APPEARANCE: dime has signature dirty blonde hair that has a tendency to be either perfectly flat or an absolute wreck. his preference for bright colours means he stands apart from the crowd more often than not. yellows. oranges. anything to bring brightness to his appearance and soften the darkness that lies under his skin. his eyes, dramatic and wide, tell of mischief and foul play. he is exponentially shorter than any of the other males around him--and most of the females as well. despite his sise, he still manages to silence rooms with his presence and sway men and women with just the tone of his voice. LEFT IN YOUR BLACK AND WHITE FIELD AND LIKES:
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OVERALL: if dime is known for anything, it's being a little cruel. his psychopathic personality leaves no room for remorse and thus one of his main hobbies is to hurt those around him. his feelings of power and control skyrocket as he observes someone in pain. he isn't soulless--those things he feels for, he feels passionately for. he tends to live life a little harder than most people, taking it out on his body through usage of drugs, alcohol and abusive sex. he is a firm believer that anyone not living in each moment is a waste of space. dime's sexuality is a bit scattered about. he doesn't pay attention to gender so much--he's aware that anybody has the ability to make him feel good and that is the most important thing to him. love is typically inconsequential though deep down he is slightly worried about falling into its grasps. playing girls for fools is one of his favourite pastimes. he's gone into biblical studies as a sort of nuance. forced into school by way of scholarship (his superior intellect outweighs his typically nasty personality) and overbearing mother, whom he has a soft spot for, he decided to make something ironic out of it. his curiosity about things people claim to understand leads him to many debates which, being atheistic, he believes to have the upper hand in all of the time. DO YOU FEEL CONDEMNED JUST BEING THERE? HISTORY: dime, age 8 "did you actually just call me a blockhead? cos of the way i sound? are you that thick? how big do you think the world is?" dime, age 9 "i moved here with my mum last year. i hate it, really. shit country. i'll go back, you know." "oi! toss me one of those." he lit up. he didn't cough once. dime, age 11 "what are fathers for, eh? they raise you up? turn you into men? who needs that?" "and i'm glad he's gone. good effin riddance." dime, age 14 he kissed me. that's all it was, i told myself. he just did it. and i knew something... that i hated it. i hated the exchange of tongue, i hated the taste of human meat. but that was all i hated... i'd take his hands again any day. "does a boy have to be gay for kissin' another boy? i didn't realise that's how it worked, you closed-minded nancy." and her hands felt just as nice, but not nicer. dime, age 16 "i'm not sure what exactly it is you think you're gonna do about it, mum. i love the shit out of you. you know i love you to death and all but i've already quit. i'm not going back. tear up the books, they aren't going to do any good." fuck the education system right into the ground. i'm through. i'm done. dime, age 18 "and so, my brothers and sisters, after a two year gap, daddy's back in class. you, eyes down. don't look at me like that." today feels like a brilliant day to beat the shit out of somebody. i think that guy needs his face rubbed in the dirt. dime, age 19 and for just a year, just one long, horrid year, i felt the head rush of love. perhaps it was love. and it made me itch in ways that it seemed only petrol and a lighter would solve. all i knew was, every moment, i felt obligated to protect. like a father. like all the life around me was a fuckin' parasite turning my insides into whiskey and rolling around high from the blood within my veins, and i was powerless to stop it. "if it were up to me, i would have shoved that knife right into your piss-drinking throat the moment we met but it wasn't. something was holding me by the scruff of the neck and you know it. but i swear to god if you give me a reason i will finish what i should have started a year ago and i won't miss you one fucking bit." dime, age 21 "you remember that crasy girl? pammy? or... shit, tamm... i don't know, mate. but, right, i sent her to the hospital." with a wave of my hands, really. "she's still in love with me. i bet she never stops." |
MADE BY AMLIN OF BTN AND GANGNAM-STYLE
