having imaginary conversations with his father in his head that he wishes he could have had for real. But what can ya do? *drinks tea*

throw away your anger, throw away the sheath. Charge and spike your heavy guns, because that ain't no kind of of belief.

getting excited for the party monday

I'm a hustla' with no flow, pimpin' hoes and poppin' collars. An upper echelon magician, turnin' hours into dollars.

listening to Aeternam- the coronation of seth

how easy it is to turn his own fucking day into a fucking crap pile of crap from fucking craptown.

a haircut

still a quite sleepy..

neither the word credit, nor anything associated with it.

worked for 3 hours, napped, been paid, paid off most of the bills, and is getting ready for work: round 2