Skin I’m in, clothes I wear.

See, what you want is; you want lights. You want that flash that fucks up everyone’s vision for a couple seconds, just enough time to switch your Ray-Bans, and then you walk out the room.

Innocent vagabond, still thinking the year is two thousand and your favorite number. I’m not sure if you’ve progressed, or just been lying enough, actually, lying so much, that even time doesn’t remember how old you really are. And if I had to do it all over again, I’d probably throw up. I’m not used to throwing up, tastes like ummm, orange juice all the time. Missing the points, but, remember those years when you used to sit in the shower, back facing the water; you had her in that position once, but enough of that. Let’s talk about school….




What the hell is he writing, I think I know he’s talking about me, in this blog that I’m reading…….













About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
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