My Name is E

Over time my name has lost all meaning; my own memories of my past remains blank or hazy. I'm not even sure it starts with an E. Whatever, I like it anyway. I've pretty much accepted the fact I'll never know where I came from or who I am. The future is all that's left for me so might as well keep moving forward, right?

Moving along... since this is an introductory post, I'll let you in on some little quirks about myself. After the many years of denial, I've finally conceded that I'm a materialist. Not hardcore; I can still tolerate religious holidays with a grimace now and then. The only thing that absolutely pisses me off is stupid superstitions. Like, really? Seven years of bad luck just for breaking a goddamned mirror? Someone was obviously bored one day and decided to create a panic amongst the people. Evil, conniving bastards, honestly.

Oh, also, I am very straightforward. I'll tell you outright I don't like you if it's how I feel. Deal with it. Needless to say, I've got very few friends. Not that I need any to keep me entertained, but apparently some people find that to be abnormal. Pft! Okay...

And finally, I go for the bad boys. It may be stupid and reckless, but don't go assuming I'm a fool or slut because of it. I'm not looking for romance. Or, at least the woman's definition of the word romance. Okay, fine, call me a slut. If that's what you want to label me; doesn't mean I'll give a fuck about it if you're doing it for attention. I've got everything figured out, don't worry. My whole life is planned out to a T.

Or, at least it was... before the day came where I would forever question the morals I thought I set down in stone...