If I was on my death bed, and someone asked me if I had a good life, I’d say yes. Because I wouldn’t want to sadden them with the truth. And then I’d die, my pointless misery remaining a secret forever.
I want to drink beer and smoke joints and cigarettes forever. But I don’t want to feel stupid drunk and stoned, or ill or sleepy. I just want that feeling that you have on the way to becoming those things. I want that forever. Drunk forever and ever and ever and never dying.
I have to stop myself from saying and doing things that will hurt everyone because then I will hurt too
I’ve decided to draw my own tattoo
I can’t draw for shit, but I’m a draftsman, so as long as it’s geometrical, no problem.
The fucking snake head is going to be a bitch though.
