Super Tricky

He asked for it and it broke off. I started writing as soon as I put the pencil down. What would Jake think? "You can sign this." And I did. Across horse meal and pen to paper. And what I would write as if I'm crawling back. I crawled back to Jake a day ago. I was talking to him in my sleep about code and net and formula and I wasn't mixing it up, he was really there articulating until I held up a sign to a flagship=down saying Doom was interpreted and not lead. And there was silence for days after that flip. Now I'm just cautiously writing about what I signed. I got more of a membership back, he finally caked and worked, and most of this is about drugs and whether we can work on them. I'm not mixing this up. I'm waking up now because I replaced it with the stuff that would have saved it. I'll probably just end up keeping it. Even though it's cheaper to have a drug palace instead of peace. I like this new stuff, it's not helping like the old stuff did. It's odd to ferment so we'll get a payout after it's finished. Another thing I keep on my mind is how lonely I am and that you only get one chance to be a man. Basically, without me proving I'm a scientist, I'll have no backing for it. So that's the flash dance essay for this book. It's like a show for a quest. That we could really need it, but it wouldn't be bed, and it wouldn't be putting the dead to rest. It's so average to call it dead, I mean average responses. Stuff that keeps you up at night from back in middle school or whenever you thought you couldn't keep it. I had a vet wake me up once, he said there wasn't a past, it was all future. So here's to him, always look, never run away, move past. It's becoming a man that's getting hard for it. As if the show was all about coke. Or blaspheming. The layer head would reveal a mean whopping response, I wish I had it in me to write, not just to draw. It was mostly insane scribbles. What I wrote whooshed off, and it was most for calibration. Like I heard it said, "You're in space drawing, but you can like, look there. And it's hard for them there, because you need to press on a space for them to see eye to eye with some wicked resplendence." It was like where movie hackers went. It was the space in the sky. I had heard that danced inside my mind at late. I thought of bed back then. I was in a space and candor of someone who was going to die. Someone who had no peace. Someone who's mind ate like rabies. It was rabies. It really felt like I was in space getting eaten by blind men. I really felt some tricky peace. I was seeing it, but not in some quest, it was like a van show. I was peering out the steering with us being in park and nobody could have cosigned moving out better than the people who would help me later at the hospice and pleasure resort, giving me meds and making it come better. The stuff I was finding out about sounded like it was coming from someone dead. I had really died, I had gone over and then uh, around. I was still listing stuff from it. Like the great ghost and we're all captured. Like the nuke smelled it. If you're wondering why we're flying around in space while holding pencils, instead of slowly rolling it out where we sit, it's because of the nuke and it's invention. So i'll tell you, when I was riding out to lord oobleck, I never the facet, the time, or face riding to actually draw. But one day I knew I would have to pull myself back by drawing. One day I drew and it stuck, so I pattered about it and it grew. I was seeing it once more in daylight. It wasn't going to last and I was still very sick. I wasn't doing it right and I might have stayed hurt if I didn't keep venturing through it. I would have stayed right there. There was something venturing south that would make it in right time and it was the wing on my shirt, that lifts with the sea and the tide and it could come from any angle. It makes it a little difficult to sea breed and nature mature, but it's not like I'm really stuffy like that break bread character. I was made for a mead, most likely. I wasn't made to break back and I wasn't measured to mule across the pacific ocean. I was just docking. So this Jake guy, he really means a lot to me but it's a pain. I wouldn't see him much after we went to different schools. I had become a bigot, I had become confused, I had become hatred. I was bigger than most and I couldn't stand you. I had too many introverted friends and it all went to my head with art, which came to a head when I couldn't tell a girl I liked her. I could never do it and it came back to haunt me with subtle jabs or a hopeless boneless part of graph online in huts for people to starve after. I would see people write about taking pain from it and never feeling after. I was a pretty wrote about kid in the bigger seer editor community. I would write about people who watched so hopelessly, I would really feel bigger as a turn of atrocity. I was like a wicked sin, I wasn't real for her to this day. So when I'm finally wrote about being back and having an adventure, it really sits still and prays not to die, but it should come back as an essay that I've never killed a guy in an essay and made it back for plural date. I really wasn't that guy to do it either. I would only come commanded. So when I thought about reaching around more with a buddy, it made me think about what could possibly dawn with some help and it made the book a lot better in a turn of talking about the material than I could have realized just talking to myself. If you have to phrase it, you're always meant to have friends. You should have friends in every crevice. My mistake was leaving it and letting it rot. So I'm gonna see if I can get him to read this. He said he would so that's me blushing. In some gnosis I came to react to Jake very differently after I had the grave encounter and came back after the years, I feel ready to have him back in my life whether it was cosmic or I really just missed him. It's been really slow. If I have advice to you, don't yearn for the darkness, please take your pills all the time. It's a cosmic odyssey about why we're here and an adventure into the future. The car just crashed. The car that had me, it was bad in the future. I'm constantly escaping these alternate realities it seems. I got a note back from an old art teacher, he says once you start doing dots and hopscotch, go slow. I did that and I can just about look at any vtuber I want and sketch them like that. Have you ever been exposed as a man? You know what, never mind. I need to see what's here right now. I just woke up from an awful dream. I was in a game trying to sort it out and it ended up turning around and being money for me. Then I was back on the streets trying to find my way back home. I was in a home and I married myself back into some safety and comfort it seemed. It ended with a loud sound though. I felt the ground shake. I felt the car go back, but it could have gone out afterwards. It's down. So I guess I have more of a surrounding knowing. I'm a businessman like the dream, I'm playing a game though. There are different products you can buy for writing but the sales screen looks a little different. They're usually free or require some mineral but they're used to suffice stuff you usually want drawing. It just flies to bits and pieces on top of you most elegantly. People just want coke though. You shouldn't give people coke that's not passed down and reaped and crept. Unless they're like part of your crew or something. So artists go for products. I guess you could send drugs, there's a bunch that got them. I'm actually going to tell you something I made instead. A joy tom fooler. It's like a ray engine with fruit attached. It's supposed to fool you that it's an actual device. I gave it a pod to warm and cool and some tempura to eat and breathe. It makes shooting rocks I call acid cool, it's like a fast acting acid adhesive. Most of what doom was proposing was a secret to most glue that made paper really shine as an afterspark if you want to chew on it. Gotta find the right kind though. If Doom is working correctly, you get mildly high from chewing recorded paper and grease from it. It's mostly the glue on the side if you get a recorded book. That wasn't acting very properly and it was giving people monster headaches. Most rock albums were like that too, only they used a petty war tactic whereas ours was a war that shocked the nation. War is nuke clearance and there's always shocks and bodies. You get away with war clearance a clear drug that usually doesn't have nasty effects, but you add them to fit the street. Look, none of this is really important and I wanna sell the book, so I'll just tell you that you really do make drugs at home and I want some. I've been cooking this stuff called ice. Replacing it with computers. Meth was totally wiped out. I made it so it cooked more than half of what was there. And we got hit all of a sudden. Word spread that you could get it and it made a fall guy look real tough. He won't be able to sell it and he only got half, but I was pressed to keep it. I got him back, took awhile though. I have all of it secured and there's not another knockout run until late so I'll have to pass on some inquiry on who did it. Anyways, it cooks drugs, is food safe, and can work with algorithms so it's hidden. It popped today and made a wake of new industry under my thumb. Next is getting rid of work. That's going to be accomplished with it, but we don't have a work buddy cute so it's going to be a long shot. We primed and fired it, it got rid of the working vest and the rest is just left off the table for new pharmaceuticals since we have half the world's ketamine at a drip. You're going to look in your neighborhood for it, I would just work drip. Take a pencil, relax, enjoy it, because it's tough. And falls apart at the skin, the makers that did enjoy that one. So we made all the meth and made it to paper and we still regret the day we signed up for this, I was just like, meth, killer. It was a slow day and I should have antiqued the fall of it better. It's best now we have a way to get them that's based and not for slander, and can get it readily enough we don't want it pasted somewhere. Also, it keeps itself out of the news for now. I really don't know how to make this up to Jake except by saying, "I've been flying in space with a pencil" and he'll probably buy it, but the coke needs to beat the world, and he'll probably be mad at that. Looking at Jake, all I can say is he's taken some stabs at me while drawing and looked mad a couple times I soft it to him. But I should make a crick at Jack, who hasn't really been thought of, but might help me get out of a racket if it involves me. He's a true friend at sticking too it and he's too big to really vomit in space. He's vomiting now because I moved it to the farcaster, and it was all of it. Moving integrity is pretty flavorsome especially when it's all about taking the next product home with you. So I invite you to scroll through the pages until you find it, usually a book is handy. I'll forgo the ready and will travel for us. I expect you to do it too, I just don't think it's fun without the handout of what I'm reading, which is a guy who was apart of a computer but never processed. He would large out and he would keep going. Nobody could find a part of him, he would choose to be included on a big page, but it wasn't bigger until now. He was going to end racing as a sport and give us all a day off. I'm really writing as if I'm watching him now computing in outer space and only kinda think I'm him. I'm really just a rolling ball of attitude. I can see the page, but I haven't mustered it as well as he could have. I'm really in a flat zone where I should be out partying. But responsibly, not really in a group of ragers and tearfast, but in some discord group crawling over this stuff. I wouldn't go outside unless it's to smoke or work out and it's only brief. I would never venture out as if searching crazed anymore, I know what I need is at home and I have to create a brief for the people wanting to join. A cram poetry would have looked off here, but I used to be crazy. I used to think people needed to read the poetry instead of what actually thought happened. It makes sense if you look to the news and can't figure it out, but look here and it'll at least tell you what it's really reaching for. It was a mean to travel through space reducing trash and creating wholeness. It was all trashed on a saturday before us and it's not time to think about that. We got it back, like we usually do, and crafted it. And if there's more of me, I think some of them are unequipped to deal with the stuff old cars had. It's super tricky to write about, like I shouldn't. Or like, it should be a secret and deleted so found with the trash man. It should be a bit about what rude travels do to the coordinates of a dial that says you can actually rain in mary jane with a toothbrush. We had a vision of people appreciating something so strong, they could use a pencil. I really appreciate it, I'm saying I wrote it. So seek the stuff out, but it won't do you any favors, it's totally in the lead with the mad genius I think I am. If it's true in a book, we can stop working right now. Put most of the shelf away, you won't need it where I'm leading. It's really like a grace stop in the manuscript that said we couldn't erase doing it entirely object to fact, we had to reach to it. Sometimes it's better to put what you would have said or did. It's best to give the fact as it may lead than it may be put. That being said, you guys are awful at it. You might as well write free coke and figure out the picture as it comes to you. Draw yourselves a winning image. You might want to draw and write, just make sure you stay truthful and embellish whatever you think you said to yourself. Just so you know plurality and couriteness, you draw however you like and just whisk past (sort of) the drug you want and it'll be there if it's not getting restocked. There are lots of drugs to choose from, acid, pens, poppers, but if you aren't getting a big enough dose, try to write more and just relax. I've tried to make the drugs synthetic enough to get blasted over and in tow, have created a powerful mixture. If the drugs aren't enough, consider if it's yours or mine. You really just want the big guy with the hooch that won't shoot back at you until a creator is hit. It may be literature, but the page is moving high. I'm not here to instruct you how to write, I'm here to tell you what's been done, how, why, to what end, and it's to put myself on the page as a writer who can call the roll with experience. That last part isn't important, maybe for my agent, but not you. If I can call you to buy a book, I can call you to subscribe to my patreon where the blogs will be leaked until the next book. So you're preaching about a world that drives and moves, how can we get it to stop? With literature, with a perception into literature that's fast and natured that looks at a book to be drawn as well as captured. You should draw this book as well as others in your closet for things that lurk, as always. When you're here (drawing in a notebook or pen tablet) you're a wizard, you know all the stops and labels as if it's flying free. You are not however your boring self, you will do odd things and try to capture true notes of real and fake. You can tell if a book is listed as being false or being true by capturing it with your glaze of writing and take it as real. You should write as well as you fascinate yourself with what you're writing with. I do have one warning though, draw slow, you'll throw your back out. Painful and methodical writing can work as well, but don't go so hard you crash and burn. You wanna be able to write all day and you want to be rejuvenated after it's finished sketching. Don't however, actually just draw all the time, take breaks and frequent sips of water and put the pencil down to gravitate, but don't get too edgy, the pencil is good for those who are responsible with it. So I'm going to pass this to jake when it gets to like 10 pages clean double spaced, and I would like to thank him for reading so far and I have a little gift for him. It's a story about when I was a kid and a blackout drunk who couldn't see. Apparently I got up to some rambunctious stuff. That's barely where the net knows me from, but what eventually came out into the internet wasn't anything close or equal. He would code, squalor, work, and he was a damn good pencil artist. He would create his own software and use it to be free of spies. One day his writing and 3d animation softwares got broken up as GIMP and Blender. It was a forced move he couldn't see coming and would have some close abandon in not taking father at his word about who I am and what I am capable of. He put me in some wreck that I chose and eventually came out as his son. It was a wreck and a planet. He put me in there and it wasn't big enough, so when it got time to do chores he would always slip around me. We got it figured out tonight, but so much was done in absence and length of trying to trim his son's hair, that most of the work got forgot about and I was just running around sneaking into everything and I eventually got caught and troubled in meat. It was not good showing up to Jake in middle school, basically forgetting everything that happened. So the drawing software got cut up and the 3d got hit, it wasn't big now, it was a rake that people would cry at. Blender would take you into some freak meth and GIMP was as follows. Imagine a wardrobe with pens as lights in your eyes and you can't see anything and its funny. It was a horrible wardrobe and I tried to keep it going but I think that's where it blinks and we just started gambling. Harshing the mood, I would gamble my own money knowing full right it wasn't a responsibility or a curse, but a net 1000 movie that I would taken the likes to. The gambling was done at my father's house and we would curse old back furniture with hits until the numbers crawled up and we made 8 million. We were going to direct a show with Adult Swim until this thing happened and we were left stranded without the money. But we actually ended up paying them, so the coke hit was a scene. It was a black out for erasers monopoly run about getting people to quit me, and by then, my dad had a semblance of what remained and wrote, but there was no writing, I was literally locked up. So I was doing the show blind as a joke because I had to run back to released software to do it. It was a movie about a cut and it just came out as Caught Stealing. There will probably be more writes as it gets more foot traffic. I was off as a kid, I would write about doing astounding things and then actually getting on my bicycle and going around hitting it. I would run as a blind man getting bigger until I got into a Karate Dojo and got thrown. It was a big hit and it wasn't going to get done with us, scouts honor. But with a little trickery, anything would have come. I started streaming art as an aftermarket strategy that I was on in every platform. It was a creative way to get hit and I still have a stem with it, but my father wasn't sure how I was programmed until I hit it with him when I was 28 tonight, and there still might be hiccups, but we got going again. It's something as writing serves "To be written" and "To be adjourned" after it's written. It's something as a hobbyist describes impossible to write about, just write about how you draw, it's way more creative if you actually reach out. How is it possible, you? You could write for days about experiments and close hits, it's just a law of bringing it back. You have to remain fragile as well as aware that he can't solve anything for you and is off doing his row. Just as much, you need to see him as the answer you're craving. While I was out running my monopoly, there was a great hit at home, my mom needed surgery, so she underwent. I'm actually joking but she did get surgery years down the line and I was there for her as always, usually. So we were hitting around, this is back when I was a kid, and I was remembering the suit hit I did on a kid in easter he stopped seeing, so I thought it was cool, but he was in on it, and eventually got it back sent right to him. He just stopped seeing for a bit and came back to. There wasn't much to it. But I got sent back for it since it wasn't a cutout. I really lost my mind and wouldn't remain there for some weeks, until I got back on, blacked out, and recalibrated. I made a devine switching brush and was back in my old ways, only this time World of Warcraft was out. So that was another invention I couldn't leave in private enough that got out to mass publication. The story was, we wrote it, but it got delayed back and eventually mercury dripped onto it. You should see those old disks, those are raw, man. I would get one clean as a dart if I could, it really looked right. What happened was, people got mad we won, front and center, on the packaging, so they diluted the disk and made everything proper to them. We actually won and faced out, but it was so hard communicating with my dad while I was sunk seeing, it was wormed and an impossible way to get out… Until I actually played the game and it got worse. It took me so long to get to max level, it was this expansion, the War Within. It was so long, so much had been taken, but we still had the old bunk I was seeing with new eyes. So now that we actually wrote it now, just now, WoW is still a sim, but you can make stuff. You make it like drawing, you live in there, curious, getting stuff yourself until you build an alabaster and then a fridge and then you take it all the way up to curiously a car. It's so albeit a sim, we still like man in the middling it and taking a fridge. But it blew out since I'm still underleveled in classic world of warcraft… I need to get on there but not before I finish rambling since there's nothing more I have to do there. And now that I think about it, I need to do it on the anniversary server now that it's all down and out on the main ramp. Shucks, at least there's people in it. But I think I managed to get in, since I was level 50 before the main ramp flipped. So there may be hope, I should check it out. I just wish I didn't go crazy and delete all my gear… Shucks. I can be a rampage sometimes, I feel sorry for my family that has to wait through all this shit. I played on it up a level and I'm now 51 camping the hinterlands for low level mobs and freaks to ramp into. I think my dad keeps trying on my 51 and I have to get it done quickly. Quicker than light. So that's a ramp. I'll keep hitting mobs in the Hinterlands since I only have vendor gear and a few greens I picked up. That should keep things going, I'm rested, so that's nice. Another thing I have to dive into is my channel on youtube, Monsuego. It used to be just me and a bunch of friends I roped into my dime scene, and I tried to make everything hip, but some of the videos got hit and it was a running rant on how to make a scene and die. It was really a joke I saw cavernously, it would just make me do whatever and it would finally be something to put out. It's like asking a classmate what he would do if he could. I made some coked up animations on it now and it's primed for a brisk watch, it's pretty humorous although some of them are a little out there. As far as creativity and longevity, it's going the mile. Back to WoW really quick. My dad was so furious at me not finishing the burning crusade and meeting myself as Illidan it was like he went and lost a kid. It was so fresh and furious we still can't get a car there on level 60 graph so it's painful and out there for them to roach at. I was reached out at, but never fully grabbed, and the shit they did touch had mandates in the middle. It's so breached and torn it was actually a show called Malcolm in the Middle. I used to hate that show, but I was watching and not reading. So now I'm off to show Jake the middle and reach about a cool car we can get fairly lengthened in. I'm wondering if it's just that the car can't do anything but classic because I have alts in retail that are maxed and one so powerful he exceeds the tale. One thing I gotta tell him about it, it's really all I could go for in a lamb and it keeps getting stronger. It's not the actual packaged game you see in real life, but the offshoot that really flies, and it melted my dad's car magnet so he had to hook it and it was up there. I'm telling him to go with you dad. So he flew it and it was really powerful, but it did everything he asked so it was a flying brick, we won. Seated of course. So we finally took Turner from adult swim and finally landed Cartoon Network. A swing and a miss for most, but we were powerful enough to write about what really happens when we draw. We got a problem, we got the box but he doesn't see me. I came front, I'm back. I used to be on when it was drawn out and still an issue, and they were being nice. Really it was the red farmer and he was back to kill again. Saying that, I'm pulled aside by my Mage in retail saying we have to go back and get it in Classic. But now they're saying we don't, so perfect. I know the day's not ruined, I can get in and watch cartoons sick drunk and high. As an adult. What really happened is they wrote us a caption and we're coming on, we'll be on around six, can we handle that? I'm backing and forthing, I'm throwing and throwing. I could really help make a semblance of why we laugh but I'm already on making it pink so they rolled it. It's so nice to be back, I really have a backing here and a lead, and it's so mesmerizing waiting for the code to get on, I really have to see it, you know? I should ride over there to my mom's and start watching on her box while she's sleeping. No, I can wait. It's so rude but I know what's going on, they're rolling this kid's cartoon and my heart's in it. I wrote all the shows back in the day like kids in the hall or Hanna Barbara. I really wrote a lot and my back is swollen, it's the whole network of all these kids and we're having fun today. If you tune on it's the same coke as always brought to you with more coke. It's a kids day, it should be a holiday on December 11th because it's when I came back to Cartoon Network. I remember when I was with Nick and it wasn't the light I required. I uselessly said Gak was coming out of the smoke and it was back on the menu. It was so barbaric one kid actually screamed to me that Gak was back and I had an alert like it was on the menu. I did like Toddlers in Tiaras or whatever that show was but I couldn't hook it so I stayed looped out. It was really a toddler that didn't get old. It was me, it was just me running in the matrix, too big to get out, too relevant to be little. It was so blocked at my apartment because I was freaking out, we really got the kids out of it and hooked the longshot but it was back at my bunk that I couldn't find a way out of how magical it was here and how little I've been doing to piss it off. So I'll piss it off all day. It really took a long look in the mirror until it saw me and I was in the light to save the day. Have at thee, Lucifer. Just like the book spoke, but enough travels, there's really something here that I might find out if it's like a thing to demand me. It printed a demand and I looked at it but I couldn't go for it, there were far longer things I wanted for this pad and it would have the whole way in space if I wanted it to. It's really normal to determine how far a magic kid will go to stay in the realm of possibilities for girls, it really has to go on cartoon network or nick, but lets just say Cartoon Network is my caveat. They're asking me at the network what I got here, nothing much, a bag of rice. But if you have an imagination, it's coke. It's rice flour and it really stoked me good far away. I could call a friend over it and they might feel it, but the wire's calling. And it's such a great show, we're probably coming back for it. It's so big enough to feel it with you calling that I call you a great news. We're rocking on a game, some game, I gotta pick it, it usually flips because we're running back and forth, but the kids can play it during the reruns. Eterspire works, it's a capulet. It's really running Montagues freely. It's so great to have a word passed travel, it's really good to work it in if there's not enough time running, you can do a little segment about how you pop out of the Doc Martin's factory like usual but there's no me running around and you can create little and pick it up and actually keep. Don't go in WoW. Eterspire is free though, and I said I would forgive games that are free even if there's no micro transaction because there's no upkeep and rent and you pay it all with players, don't be lied to about it. I know a lot of people play there and the words you keep are with us or you're a bad roster for fruit. You can fish. We just released fishing! Fishing's always been an upkeep and kinda cool, but you can get good at it and we don't like resourceless players that have to blow everything up they use. You're cool if you're a level one that just fishes and we'll throw you a game to do it with that's better or free but it usually comes with a price, sue us but don't. Fishing games are in, oh I also like zelda or mario kart because you can just lie and say there's stuff there. It's stuff to keep you active and on. That's what we say, it's not the risk mead you see dripping the streets at factions. It's really not to be craved outside of Cartoon Network, Adult Swim isn't good for kids, and Games always pack a punch but make sure they have me loaded in the bowl. It's really a site, so let's take a look at the games… They're all gone. Oh well, that was probably a bigot that left. Addicting Games worked but they weren't down for it. Now they're saying it's cool if it's me. Now it's like, I'm back and they know. But game websites aren't what they used to be and I always hated flash so lets get something better working. Eterspire will be our hope for the future of entertainment so gear us to laugh but it's really fair and busted and we give you the stuff that's dead and fair to get instead of the stuff that's living and fabric and has a hit of extra sincerity breaking up. It's not cool to make unless you're a flash freak and all those guys are back looking at Cartoon Network alongside me. So I started looking at some more footage. It seemed like the fake memories of me as a kid were due to my uterus. It like, runs Manhattan. It was thinking and I sorta got pulled aside by her today to look at it and she wasn't writing she was just molting. We write her. So it's pretty great except there's still a God in heaven and I'm not him. I really feel like I'm his writing or something, it feels like a living organ you use to write or something. That just feels like the part I play. My dad was probably cool aside from World of Warcraft, which got us the stake. I can see it really well on Adult Swim, they said it would air now. It's still airing, I need to talk as I write. It's so good to be back, I really see it in a form of factor sort of like defusing old bombs and getting back at him. It's really well built but I can use it to see and think and feel and it's really been degrading these past few, or this life, so hopefully I have the fill. I really got a fill of my dad saying he would read some of this stuff. It's really not much but hopefully it can get the ball rolling as far as my style. I'd be cool calming down from this and writing spec scripts, but something like this probably needs to be written by someone like me even if it's just a secret. Which it is, it's just like, a sort of hold up. And it's a hold up for a lot, it's a hold up for me to contemplate what I like reading about this stuff, and it's not the truth, it's the simplicity. Yeah, you can get coke from drawing but you don't actually have to hear it from me, you sorta want to hear the stuff about how the stuff gets made, but it's just running, it just makes. That's important but the world doesn't really need to know that unless it's to say, "Eat your computer dust" like I did on my blog. And that's important so this is too, it's just a lot of sorting and thinking and deciding and drawing and I should bring a journal with a pencil when I go see him so I can kill a few. Really you just need coke from cartoon network and I wanna keep drawing to keep it there, holy cow. I feel like the less you do, the better you get it from the corny stuff that you can keep it up with. Like crystal light with caffeine or the flour. I mean, nothing's safe, but you could get it from a pencil and be alright for a good year if some of this makes sense, but I really think most of you just don't see it which doesn't create a good society where we don't work. But we shouldn't have to work to distract ourselves with money, we should all live off the coke. And not selling it, but letting it work enough to make it through, otherwise it's just a war for some drug that people with jobs get to fawn over hours and hours of horseshit. It's really an argument we see and we could make it work if coke pulled it over but it's really a snare. It's really a makeshift screw to say that someone with a lot could do it, but we really did and I'm seeing it run, there's just a lot of fun to do and shit we have to get rid of like disposable income without sacrificing the hard work or labor of sacrificing a house for a couple of jets in the same family that took it for granted without each other. Wasting time working, forgetting their kids or parents, just thinking it's money. It could work if we had a court of law requiring you to be with a guest of leisure and fortitude. No work, no money, no hips, no raps. Just families and people doing coke with pencils. That's what I want, and what will actually do is just a place for everyone and more for those who house it. So it's faking out and making it but we can really run it if there's not enough overhead and there will just be free stuff for people who want it, I mean, you don't need money to be a family, you just need to work enough, and there's work again, but for now it's gotta suffice. We're going to have affordable flats and way more food in the future. It was about a brick and now it's about family. There should be a leisure tax that says people without work should get more money, that would just about do it far, all we need is 300 more dollars a month. I swear I wrote that before. We should have the money but it's being benched or folded. We should bench it or fold it over a glitch that makes more money, which is possible, we just haven't been doing it right. I crapped it out and started skinny dipping. I'm so fucking depressed and I can't handle a sweet thing. I have to keep it held and kept it held for so long, I didn't want to fight, I wanted to quit. It was so lonely for me right now I thought about going back, and I can really only go back in big gesture, I can't really seem sweet writing emails. Although I want to, I want to reach out and keep going but I really fear it's too soon. It needs to be another year before I can really fetch what I'm going for. It's too big and too small and too bright and too little. I could have stepped in my own way, I just fell to exhaustion. I succumbed to voices telling me she would just creep me out and keep me subtracted. I would fair that the other essay would write that she really did love me but couldn't really see it. And I failed for that. I failed bringing it into picture and I failed seeing enough of it to just stake more and lose less. I really liked her, it could have been love. I would have married her, I would have had her kid, I would have just wanted her. I would have been there if it had been good, but it was so fair it didn't even seem like time. It was me bricking out and her losing it and then I lost it. I wrote about it to pretty much everyone and they all seem really missed, it really rained on so many parades we all feel like I do, we all feel negative. Anyways, I'm just feeling like it's worth talking about today, I really feel dull so maybe I'll write her something. Hey you, I can't stop myself thinking you're just gone, when really I know you're there. It's something like a burden that needs to get lifted, but it is, I just need to see it. I really need help seeing it and I don't think I'll be there at your door lifting notes up and stacking them straight fully attached to wanting you back until the next GTA. Which feels like it had some nerve pulled by the previous. All the GTA games were about me, except Vice City which was me, but it was about Seinfeld or some giraffe. It was still me though, in part, and sometimes exceeding. I would play Seinfeld going to part at tricks and nifties trying to barge in and prove I'm the guy. It would always be some laid out crime or capture of the far west that would put us to peril and deciet when it came to actually loving the picture until it was finished. It was so full and serious, I miss it, I miss seeing it. GTA V was like, they dressed like me, but I didn't have it up, I had missed to many chances to make it big with people and it just fell back on some foster kids. It was so gruesome I really felt bad for you, but you woke up and saw it and I see it as well as you, I just need to you believe me. I'm so low because we're not friends, and it all fell apart because I didn't really believe you were my friend, I really believed you hated me. I thought it was like a bizarre rape I liked but you believed would kill you. I really thought it would end you, me being there. I saw it better to just take your hint at the worst moment when I should have played stupid and kept you. I would have been better for life if I had just listened to my own chic justice. It's adventure time again on TV and I really feel like they bumped the coke up on the line for us just to keep the kids happy. Everybody knows about this shit now thanks to whatever justice and it's just bummed but it really looks colorful. I can't stop watching but I may be some entity that rules over cable now. It was like, yesterday, I thought about that and kept the script with some old friend, but I let my dad read it first since I was afraid of what the old friend might think. And I'll try to be more open with writing and keep everything in the news about what thought and forgot about the critics and do nothings that write about me keeping it real without sacrificing my feelings while also being metal and different. I would keep it real with you, I wouldn't keep it real away, I really need a second chance even if it's just getting this straightened out. I'd do anything, I really would, and I wouldn't stop trying for you. I would keep it big, I just look cut up for fun but it was really GTA V and what we all thought about the job market and what we had to do to keep us apart. I was so done during that age, I wouldn't keep it in the 90s, it was back in the 40s and we were at war. I'm not good at tests but I would give them away to people just to excuse them, they've gotten harder over the years. I imagine you're the same if it's anything I see in myself I could probably connect it to you in our star driven society. I'm so fucking sad I can't do anything but loathe. Is it really about you? Mostly, I cared so much about what you said, I really just quit from over reaction. I was strong to that stuff, but I had no head and I lost friends. I want to keep friends but I'm alone, and that's just my Mom's problem and my Dad's reading chore. It's so memorable I really think anything is possible to say and be noted at this rate, I just want you to hurt well enough to do something and I really think I should come back just to keep things cool since I don't believe you really want me to give up. I don't think that because I'd lose. You can make fun of me all you want to try and make yourself feel better but it won't help, I really just trust you see me and think it's enough already, but the thought hasn't passed into reality fully enough. I really think you believe there's something else, there's something more, and it was how I felt, I wouldn't have given it up for anything and it was just a quick mistake that dug my hole forever. Even if you come back, I won't feel better, I'll feel worse, I'll feel like I have to do something impossible. It would be best for you to come back for me though, even if it's just a visit or a response. I always wanted to play games with you. I might have been lame but I was fun to be around and at least distracting. I was always distracting you I feel. That's not always the worse things but I was distracting myself and now I'm so whole on this point I'm killing myself writing the wires to you. As it goes right now, if you look to hard at me, I'll take you out. I'm so depressed, I can't even draw her, which would usually be cathartic. I used to somewhat scroll her and it helped, but actually drawing over there isn't really going too well. It's like I'm a liar. I'm really just stressed I mean, who wouldn't be? It's so retired, it barely gets to her. It's like there's shit caught in my teeth if I needed to explain how it felt like, I can't reach for floss either. I look useless, my drawings are tainted, I can't show up on film.