"How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable it is to be young, dumb, and have lots of money. We will sit upon this grassy knoll, holding hands and stroking handguns, with pristine souls, and even my own mother will tell you I am an asshole, but underneath it all, there is an apathetic heart of gold. So who will be saved, from the least to the greatest men? Because even Honest Abe sold posion milk to schoolchildren."
yo, sometimes my life feels like the wrens' meadowlands and sometimes it feels like a blink-182 song (like when i'm drunk and shit myself after a baseball game) and sometimes i try to be like a guided by voices record when really all i'm aspiring to have is a life thats a little more like capeside and a little less filthy north philly even just for a few hours each day. i like to tell the truth and i like truthfulness and i stay true to what i love and what i'm good at which is my friends and family (humans as a whole?) and listening to music.
