there's no point to any of this. it's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. so I take pleasure in the details. you know... a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt..troy dyer in reality bites.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
oscar wilde
the beauty of death is greater than the mystery of birth.oscar wilde.
1 comment:
dude...i ain't gay. oscar wilde, maybe is. and i didn't do jim.
i swear.
Post a Comment