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


i'm so fucked up, i cant walk around the house with my usual ease. i am seeing everything as i'd like it to be and once this high wears off, i will want to fucking blow my brains out with the boredom of every day life. this is the kind of high that makes you wish you were in a permanent coma, never fully registering the sadness of your situation, nor grasping the reality of what people are telling you anymore, careless, almost dead. i see how it is, these drugs, you push and push, do more and more until you can't do any more without coming near the edge of dying, at that point you dont care anyway. i dont care about anything. i understand what i was once afraid of, what i once made fun of, what i loathed: that sucking feeling, dirty water down the drain, that trailer, that rusty car, that husband that hits you but you're too drugged to care, and you're raising kids that will breed the same filth that you did. christ slit my throat, i am that mom, saving up those government checks to pay for the drugs. your dad hates me when he's putting his Bush/cheney bumper sticker on his pickup. He's cussing at me when he's sweating in the working world and what kills him even more is that i dont give a fuck, i wont even remember today or tomorrow, next week, fuck it, this year.
d-land