yo, that's wack if i'm not the baddest


profile * old * mail * fucking sign it* or how about a nice note? you go forward / i'll go backwards


pants smelling like dog piss after kneeling on your carpet, trying to regain consciousness, the who playing and blood rushing from my head to my feet and around and around again. youre looking terrible and so am i, anorexic and drugged, never leaving the house or opening the windows, constantly inhaling marlboro reds.

youre riping yourself open and finding kilos. removing organs, trying to find more. there's no more, no more and i'm already with my eyes closed on your lap anyway. stop looking and watch me pretend to sleep.

d-land