You pass out for 10 minutes, wake up to puke, come back to your room and realize there's graffiti all over your room's walls that you don't recognize. Tomorrow's going to be... it's gonna be something, that's for damned sure. But right now all I can do is marvel and wonder how the **** this even happened. I have two tags here. The rest is sloppy throw-ups (no, not vomit, get learnt ya ****in toy) and decent tags here and there. I'd take a picture but **** me if I didn't seeminlgy lose my phone. Again. Hopefully it's not in the hands of some creepy methhead again.
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I spit bullets in my feet
Every time I speak
So I write instead
And still people want me dead
~msc
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