Contrary to popular belief:
I'm complicated.
What it is one time PAC DIV.
My mind is a blood red brick house on Stone street
with thousands of rooms; blue mirrors,
the auroma of marajuana and music.
Cacoethes Scribendi. Get it tattooed on my wrist.
New Orleans native. My accent proves it all.
I am finally beggining to accept the fact that I am meant to be alone.
I am forever in the cycle of change.
I tend to treat serious situations like how I treat strangers.
I'm a starving writer and a dying phtographer.
No one will ever comprehend or understand.
When I die I want Bob Marley playing at my gravesite.
I am the rose that grew from concrete.
I smoke a blunt to take the pain out, if I wasnt high I'd prolly blow my fucking brain out.
I'm gonna be real here.
I like smoking weed every blue moon. (sometimes)
I like drinking a glass of red wine to calm my nerves when the stakes are high. I don't depend on weed.
But I think I'm one of the most coolest, most creative, fun awesome person without drugs.
I smoke a blunt to take the pain out, if I wasnt high I'd prolly blow my fucking brain out.