poseur.

i’m not a rockstar, i just do drugs and break shit

scream out all my lyrics, and fuck chicks with fake tits

refer to my boxers as “the snake pit”

full of venom and, like communion, you’ll take it.

like a blessing.

FlightSchool.1

every man has a one-track mind, and that track goes from brain to dick with no stops in between. i have a one-track mind, but i stopped riding the train a long time ago. it's 2010, no one rides them anymore anyway. my thoughts are on an elevated plane, and i'm in the cockpit. no autopilot, i run me. tired of thoughts plagued by gravitational constraints? ready to take yourself to the next level?

welcome to flight school.

nah.

i changed my mind.

Bye.

=)

resurgence.

damn, i can wallow with the best of 'em.
not cool.
i'm bumpin Be by Common, making studio hunting plans for tomorrow, and drunk.
"reality's a BITCH, and i heard that she bites."
ay...i bite back. lmao, serious though...on to the next.

planetrip.3

no survivors.

[IAD].

playlist: 808s & Heartbreak (Kanye West), Straight No Chaser (Mr
Hudson), St. Elsewhere (Gnarls Barkley), Infinity on High (Fall Out
Boy), Pretty. Odd. (Panic at the Disco), The Score (The Fugees)

i'm bothered by the fact that my loneliness is really bothering me. my
funds are much too scarce to undercut this feeling with THC, so my
headphones have been attached to my head for over a week. intensive
audiopathic therapy (IAD), or so i've decided to call it...just now.
it works most of the time, and i'd rather endure earache than
heartache any time.

speaking of heartache, tell me what it means when you think of the
girl you didn't have the balls to express your true feelings to
everyday WITHOUT FAIL? no bullshit, i'd really like to know. while
you're at it, how should you feel given the fact that you're MILES
away from her thoughts? closing in on a year, and i want new dreams.

uh-oh, time for another virtual holocaust...liberty city, i knew thee well...

cupid, you chubby little FUCK.

today i woke up at 3:48 in the afternoon...FUUUUUUUCK.
i didn't really have anything to do besides clean up. still, i'd rather be awake and possibly bored all day than to be asleep and possibly miss out on something to do. plus i could've cleaned my room some more. my mom grabbed some black plastic bags on the way home from work (early, cuz she's got laringitis...bummer), and i'm about to fill up a couple. yea, that's what i'll do when i finish this.

other shit to do:

• haircut tomorrow, rain or shine. if i gotta walk? i''m walkin...time to get this rug cut off. and if my grandma isn't workin tomorrow, i'm WHOOPIN ASS. whose ass? no idea.
• talked to my audio connect, said he had car troubles that resulted in him havin to push his mama's whip. told him i can't hate cuz not only do i not have a car, i don't have a LICENSE.
• speaking of which, i gotta get that birth certificate application notarized. it's gonna take about a month for it to come back, so i need to be up on that.
• <---haaa...bullet.

[in other news...]

FUCK february. that comes from the fingertips of a person swiftly approaching his 19th consecutive valentine-less valentine's day, and yea, i'm a little salty about it. i uh.......nah, i'll kill it here before i go off on a dr. phil adventure. let me cut on my ps3 and kill something before i grow a vagina.

formspring.me

Don't you miss those Billy Maze infomercials?

hell yea, especially since i know that he was coked up during every one of 'em

ask me SOMETHING. lol, my inbox is wack right now.

Grammy Family

I want to be a member of that. I want a Grammy, and I won't stop making music until I get one. After I do that, I want Album of the Year. I'm gonna work like a motherfucker to get it. I know it sounds like a pipe dream, but I'm dead serious.