fight the urge to kill.

i had a dream about spike lee last night, but i can't remember what about.

SPIKE! WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO TELLING ME!?

nigga we needsta get the fuck outta compton.

okay, i feel corny again. i'm going to read.

KNOCK ON WOOD.

notetoself:

why is pcp such a bad idea again?

i'm mean. i act like i own the world, like it needs to be the way i see fit. i am not god. everyone is entitled to their free will. i am not god.

aren't you tired of how every other stupid teenage fuck thinks they are misunderstood by their peers and elders?

get over yourself, you self-centered cry baby! you're not special! besides, doesn't the fact that you feel like a large body of people (if not most) make you redundant? this is life, oh the great lament! suck it up or kill yourself.

and quit talking into the mirror.

i play ignorant to the stars in fear that all the wealth of freedom and bliss afforded to me may not be for free.