i'm an eighteen year old man.
and thats the problem. fucking who should be a man at eighteen? especially a kid who reached forty before the second grade. its not right for a child to have to look at the kids in his classroom with the same eyes the teacher does. i cant ever go back on it, and i honestly wouldnt care to. so my parents & soberfriends always ask me: whyddya do those things? you know, pieces of death. smoking, drinking, rolling...basically a sampler of six feet under, each with its own flavor. its cause when you see an old man, rusted from too much life you can just tell that he's had enough, and cant wait for death. "cross my heart and hope to die" thats how i feel. id like to bitch that its 'not fair' for me to have the weight and only be eighteen...but im not that lazy. fuck that. but then, what was that whole paragraph about?