But is it Spooky?

Reading old blog posts that I forgot about from seven years ago is my special way of making myself cringe like a fist that took more than half a decade to hit my stomach oh the run-on sentences punctuation and bland attempts at humor oh they really really really really turn the stomach as if I'm supposed to gleam anything meaningful from such complete drivel nothing more than the emptied stomach should have been i misquoted never there are no words to make wrong or yank out of context nothing meaningful to annotate or record save for the meandering thoughts so ineptly shot out of the shit cannon that is my mouth so be grateful for anonymity bask in the glow of superficial lights that make the countenance on such an ugly face so pleasing to the eye in it's low lights every girl can look like a fucking model with the lights off lest we forget forget i'm just circling the drain a part of a dying breed the poor straight white boy blues how they inexplicably ring out the dawn as the victim parade marches on the predator and prey on display hand in hand praising the constant downpour i don't feel marginalized it was just a game i played and i shouldn't feel anything special i just want to praise the constant downpour as well it sucks i just hate getting wet

My cat.

My crew.

Fuck you.

2015