"Walk on kid, but watch your step.Every tile has it's own little bit of poison."-Subconcious
Instead of turning to go home I drove straight on and took a left at the avenue, found my old house.Well this is bizarre as fuck. I haven't seen this place in a mighty long time.My friends tell me I need to get more sleep, tell me I'm paranoid.Bah, it's all jealousy. This whole teenage business has left me a little scarred.My head still gets pounded by the eventual sledgehammers, but that's nothing a little weekend of hard drinking wont fix. Those who have known me, know I have changed slightly. And I simply can't help it if it's within my nature to venture about different experiences. That life inside my flask is being quickly consumed by my unhealthy and careless habits. I have lost my uncanny ability to care about things, and it's gotten bad. To the point where I actualy can't remember where I left my drivers license, though I'm sure I didn't get careless and forget it inside a strippers bra. It don't matter much though at this point, I'm fairly drunk and ended up having a couple weird drug experiences not too long ago. I want to go home but I don't, it's this weird sensation where I think i'll just waste time if I sleep.Whenever I do get any sleep I wake up feeling sick and quite tired. I avoid sleep because I know I would rather do that than live an actual life.I am hazardous, people think I am the meaning of polemic, and girls stay far because they know I'm exactly what they're mothers told them to avoid. But I do hope you know I never forgot. So there.
-Anonymous
sábado, 21 de fevereiro de 2009
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