Wednesday, March 16, 2011

It's early morning, and I need some kind of rain, some kind of catharsis. I want to take this bottle from out of my gullet and smash it open and throw it somewhere. I'm wobbly because of these bottles. One for every year since 10. I don't fucking want them anymore.

Maybe this is how Charlie Sheen feels every morning. Borderline. Mad. Mad. Mad.

3 comments:

Unknown said...
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The Nutty Pea said...

vat? vat? vat???

Engee said...

I don't know what