i can't think. that only works when i write. i'm going to go smoke a cigarette. i dribble and ramble like a little kid would with a crayon across all the walls of your house with this wonderful thing called tumblr. look at it as it is. a bunch of scribble and absolute bullshit.
i thought to myself today, i’m an adult now, 21 years old, i can’t still be wearing a mohawk, and sure enough when i got home i sliced it up all over again, uneven and everything.