Monday, September 13, 2004

::Angel.::

Like an angel come down from salvation, she calls.

Now i get to drink and be with her.

It's time for mister benzene to meet his needed dose of processed liquid shit that i'll probably be puking out later anyway.

Fuck this shit. I'm getting out of here.

Bye 4 walls.


spoken. at 6:26 PM



"Point your gun in another direction — now that you've cried yourself to sleep."