I've got kicked in the stomach. Hardcore. And nicole's valentine is a bitch. But life's still going a-okay. with my guitar being a complete bitchead. Period.
The moon's still out. But the night seems old. I'm yearning for sleep. I've just got home, you see. God, I wonder every time how can two people have fun with just a guitar and themselves. But I don't give a shit what's the answer to the question. Okay, now I shall fucking kill myself and drive myself to sleep. Wow, that's a first. Hm, anyway I need to get some beauty sleep (even though it had never injected any beauty in me whatsoever). But before that, let me hurt my brain while I search for some pictures for my shit examination paper, I mean art, this month.
Finally, thank god I have hands. Right, hanisuckock?