Post by woody maddox! on Jun 6, 2012 1:50:38 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] im tired of begging for the things that i want i'm oversleeping like a dog on the floor. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - You would think that Woody Maddox would be a bit happy with the fact that she was on tour. Well, you happened to be wrong. She was never happy unless she was seeing fucking daisies and since that seemed to be well a far far away dream. She was currently skulking the tour grounds with a cigarette between two fingers and her other hand was wrapped around a bottle of absinthe. She was around high on the cocaine she had early. This was just all mixtures of a fun night, well for her...maybe. Woody really had a issue with the world around her. There wasn't really a reason.She just fucking hated everything and anything or maybe she was in one of those moods. Spar took the last drag of the cigarette before flicking it to the ground and then ran a hand through her hair. Her bright blue eyes narrowed towards whatever direction she seemed to be walking in. It wasn't a happy face and it wasn't inviting either. She took a sip of the absinthe and continued her merry way. Well, not so merry way. Woody sent a glare to someone passing by as she took another sip again. She wasn't sure what or who's life she was going to ruin today. But it should be good right? Woody wasn't that much of a friend maker, in school she wasn't, in life she wasn't. She was pretty sure she was either going to die old and alone, or die sometime soon where she couldn't get to that age. She didn't want to be that age. She was fine staying with where she was now. With the alcohol almost gone and the fact that she was still looking for someone to do wasn't too much of a pleasing concept to Woody. She just wanted to not walk around like a psycho. Oh wait, she was. Glaring at the ground Woody just let out a frustrated sigh as she kept walking. It didn't really cross her mind to text a band mate. To be honest, she didn't really understand why they dealt with her. Sure, she was a exceptional drummer, but her personality was shit. She was the type of person that avoided the merch tables and tried to stay low key. Not that she didn't like her fans, she did but she just didn't feel like dealing with them. They were excited and loud and made her head hurt. Swinging the bottle and taking small sips from it every now and then, she made sure that she looked as menacing as ever. Really that was no way to draw someone in. But there was a colossal amount of drugs waiting for her back at the bus and she couldn't be more pleased with that thought. If you called it being pleased. She didn't know that anyone was behind her. Her senses were a bit fuzzy from the drinking and the drugs she had taken this morning. Woody wondered how long it would be before it killed her. |
