waging a war

it's past midnight here and i am writing an essay about car racing, sexism, and war.

But I am currently distracted, so I will vent my creative frustration here, so that it is not put to waste.

He seems to have gained ground, triumphant over his foes. Inch by inch, mile by mile, the steadfast soldier pushed on, rattling out whatever bullets that are left in his canister. He reaches the final frontier... a couple more steps, one more rush of adrenaline, a boost of morale and he would have succeeded, the comfort of glory wrapping his scarred visage.

Suddenly, in the midst of battle, it seems as though conquering the physical was only half the battle won. His arms might have been superior, but his mind was being weakened, highly susceptible to the tiniest forms of distraction. and then the booming sound of dispair came.

BZZZOOORRRNNGKKKK!

Grenades? impossible! he has been in battle for what seems like an eternity, guns have been emptied, and the only competition that's left is that of the will. Despite that thought, he could not help but sink into distraction, his face being pressed against reality.

BZZZZZOOOOORRRRRNNNNGGGKKKKKK!

All he could do was shake his head. He felt another part of his will gradually die as his comrades have begun to yield into eternal slumber, one by one. he tries to shrug it off, but the tremors keep on coming, one by one, each with increasing intensity.

BZZZZZZ(jelly-squish-sound)OOOOOOORRRRNNNGGGG(squish)KKKK!

What gory death befalls my friends! imagine all the ichor running through their noses!!! Bloody and forgotten, they should have become. Oh my adversary! have you no pity?

BZZZZOOOORRRRRNNNNGGGKKK(super-squish)!

All is lost. What was once a sure triumph for his cause has now become his downfall. Reluctantly he yields to his emotions. His strength cannot overcome the might of the foes, and his mind has failed him. Slowly, he succumbs to the temptation.

he blogs and complains about how the nose of his roommate has defeated his will to write an essay.

All his brain cells lay waste in the annals of the mind, and his body begins to feel the wear and tear from the long, cumbersome day.

Oh how the earth shook! the immortal snore -
how that violent nose trembled, the quake of that vengeful upper pallet
has caused the downfall of minds aplenty.
Tonight he has a special treat, an atom bomb of sorts
When in the cold, or having colds, he adds a lethal substance
to what once was like the sound of a thousand doors knocking,
making it sound like the slamming of a million toilet covers
whilst flushing down the remnants of a long battle fought in the cubicle.

What good is there in war??? none at all.

Oh nose! I plead you! CEASE FIRE!!!

I've lost it.

I'M OUT!!!