Great way to start the morning. A cup full of xanax on my counter and a bottle filled with purple sprite. I took about three of the drugs and drank half the bottle of my sprite. Shit really hit the spot. I got up quickly, ran to the mirror and looked at my eyes. I loved seeing my circles dilate whenever I took drugs. It was such a pretty sight to the brownish color behind my pupil. I looked at the clock. "6:34". I had time to go to school but should I really? I'll just get another lecture by the counselor about not doing drugs and how having a future is important or whatever. Looking down at my blouse, I spot a stain. Yeah, I may be a druggie but my OCD still takes affect on my daily life. Taking off my blouse to expose my bare breast, I put it in my washed-up washing machine.
I lived in this house for more than 17 years... 19 to be exact. My parents died when I was 18 and my roommate moved away a couple of months ago. The court decided I could take care of myself since I'm of legal age so I just live alone, in a big house full of memories that I need to erase but I don't want to. Everything here is the same as it was 19 years ago. The same crack on the ceiling, same stain I made when I drew with a marker and tried to clean it but ended up smudging the wall, same smell my mother left when she put on her perfume, same sensation of love I got when my dad hugged me like he'd never leave. I tried my best to continue the right path but ended up getting caught in the cobweb of a druggie. I really wish I had someone to understand... but fuck that. I'm gangsta, I don't catch feelings. That's why at school, I play everyone. Anyone who tries to get close to me would fall just like that.
I looked down at my tattoos that covered my right hand. As soon as I turned of age 17, I got my whole hand covered with ink, drawings that remind me of my mom, some that remind me of my dad. Others that are just there to take up space. I took a really deep thought. I didn't have anything to do today. Nothing at all. Fuck it, I'm going to school. So why not go with the usual outfit.
Thrasher shirt Ripped white jeans Convers And let's not forget the ice on my writs and my teeth
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Ahh, the shit I sold for my watches. I took the silver one by the way. Looked wavy on me And of course my earing... yes I wear one. My book bag ! Shit I forgot I even owned one. I grabbed my stuff, brushed my teeth, got myself ready and shit. I smell good, look good, I'm just good in general. What's the point of going to school without impressing yourself.
