I inhale coffee like the smoke from my weed. I’ve cried more tears than the waterfall by my house. I’ve officially given up. I guess going through the motions are much more easier then dying. My car will never go fast enough. Going 120 on curvy roads, not being reckless but I like the way it makes me feel. The way walkin in the woods at midnight gives you a type of rush. Only if trees could talk. It’s like me trying to kill my self before the world does.