A Call to Arms.

You are moving through this deawy meadow, in rapis motion, in the early morning sun. There are poisonous fucking snakes, fucking everywhere, every step you take is a step closer to certain death. Don't fucking trust anyone, don't fucking care, don't you fucking step on those snakes...

Too tired to write, too hungry to walk, too sick of being poor to cope with the wonders of tomorrow. But it is approaching quite fast, the future, is breathing heavely over my tired shoulders.

And all the girls are just too fucking hot...