Half A Day A Week

I have found a lack of sympathy for my chemically dependent brothers and sisters. it disturbs me, my eye-rolling attitude. i search through my studies of gods. i search for the compassion wit

E, and i only have it half a day a week. i try and i try and i try, having myself crossed the fucking death junk line. the forced cock, the backhand of love. i know, i know, i know,

My shit clean, after all the shit i've seen, if i can still fall in love, if i can laugh my fool head off at my life, and my hard, hard lessons, then why don't you, you rich, thirty-five year ol

Kie fuck? i want compassion for you, but my friend i have none. you bear your victimization like a cross. a crutch. you're lazy. believe me. believe you me. i can't now is that half day a



I'll make a search for compassion. for you, poor you. you fucking white millionaire. my eyes are aching from roll.


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