3:45 am.
Dead awake. In the cold sheets of the chills of pouring rain outside with the sound of guitar riffs down the city.
Las Vegas.
What a time to be alive. Hookers, strippers, weed.
They all smell the same. Burnt. Maybe from the drugs they had. Who knows.
One thing about me is that I observe my environment, hearing bullshit on one end and processing it in my brain but nothing comes out of my mouth.
They don't call me the Infamous King for anything.
I had my share with cigarettes before dilated my eyes like a damn kaleidoscope. Gladly I never had an itch after that.
Blood. We need it to live.
Bleed is what happens when people do reckless things. I'm known for that.
Bleeding. Figuratively and Literally.
Welcome to the Reality Show.
Push.
Start.
YOU ARE READING
Thorns
RandomIn this circle of life and friendship we only had one rule. Don't stab each other in the back. Guess that wasn't important.
