You know whats chill?
chillin with the homies, but then they go out and come back drunk as penguins and snore real loud.
aha, partying is for partiers. If i party, I am a splendid wall designer. (get it?)
Iono, im an optimistic motherfucker, that doesnt give a damn about much, but gives a damn where a damn should be given.
Last night, i talked to a friend about baby jesus. the matter of the fact is nobody can ever know whether it is real or not. The only way to know is to die. But once we die we dont return. Hence there is no answer. However, nothing is as simple as that. I dont refute that there is a God, but i refute the fact on my dependence on such a person simply because whether i believe or not, whether i pray or not, my day will be the same. Praying is like a placebo, people form and manipulate their own God. However, the church life is a healthy little pill. I wont say that it isnt the best way to go. After all it has provided me with a splendid, loving, caring family. It is all great and smooth like gravy on mash potatoes and i say that if it floats your boat, merry you. It is just not for me. I cant live a lie for the sake of my happiness. Forever will i belong in a pouch of sour patch candies?
p.s. i love my bitch B. I could ride her all night and she wouldnt complain. she's the only real homie. the one thats always down, always there saying: "ride me baby!!"
shes a naughty little slut. goodnight.
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