IT... IS... FUCKING... DONE...

Ellroy was finished. The paper: inadequate, confusing, hopeless. He sent it to
supervisor anyway. Cold sweat forming on his forehead - ideas brewing in his
mind. What next? More violence? A voice pounding in his head: DO NOT TOUCH THE
TOPIC YOU SKINNY COCKSUCKER!! The present: alone. Redeemed. The deadline long
gone. Finally safe.

I guess next up it's masters thesis! Not that I was anxiously waiting to
finish this thing or anything though, sigh... :D