Well, let me tell you something, to whoever reads this: you'll always be miserable if you don't kill that stuck up brat that lives inside you. That snotty little kid that doesn't want to go out and play because can't face the fact of a maybe loss. No matter where you are and where you live. The only way to happiness is the murder of that little shit.
Now that I got you scared and thinking that I'm either high, delusional, pretentious or whatever you want to call it I'll talk to you about someone that I used to call my friend and wasted too many words on.
Well, let's just say that he (might be a she) wanted always to win. Wanted always to be the best in everything and he was in a way. He always had the perfect hair, best fashion sense, always listened to the perfect for the time kind of music and always had a couple of girls running behind him and boosting his ego even when he was down. Now, some would say that even when he was down it was all pretend for a much bigger ego-boost by others. But either way his techniques seemed to work just fine.
But time flies by so fast and so high kind of like a G6 ( yup just like the song) that the things you considered important and cool when you were 15 or 16 when you hit 20's they've become meaningless and silly. Long story short all he got now to make him (her) feel important is a bunch of objects as trying to figure out what went wrong.
That arrogant little kid still lives inside him (her), no matter how grown up he looks or likes to act and it shows in every move he makes no matter how grown up that move might be. As far as I'm concerned I'm trying to kill that fuck for a couple of months now and the operation is going pretty well. It's mutilated but not down yet.
Right, I'm out to take a shower cause summer makes me sweat like a future mother in the delivery room and if it wasn't for aircondition systems I'd have lost 4 kilos in liquid. Till next time bababooee and keep goofing it up.
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