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death of a crazy bitch
i am sick and my throat feels like it has golf balls stuck in it. bloody swollen painful golf balls of death and mass destruction. if someone wants to come perform a back alley tonsillectomy i will be happy to participate. bring vicodin. maybe it will help with extreme body/head ache and fever. fuck you sickness! and even worse, fuck working when ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
So be it, I’m your crowbar ( Read more... ) -
relative sobriety
it's been 7 days.
i don't know why i feel so skinned alive -
where do you move when where you're moving from is yourself?
we all seem to find our identity in something. and then we lose it. only to pick up a new one somewhere else along the way. it seems monumental when in actuality its just the same damn cycle. the end of an era. the death or the you that you swore was real. perhaps its the only reason any of us can pretend that people can change. it's not you. its ( Read more... ) -
not only...
The mongrel cat came home ( Read more... ) -
damaged, in a way you don't notice until you get too close
if you can't deal, then step the fuck back and shut the fuck up.
