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I have everything I could ask for. I'm white, straight and I hail from a lower-middle class household. So why do I lay in bed and wallow in self pity when everything I could ever ask for sits right in front of me. I have enough money to buy all the drugs I need and if I run out I can steal my mothers medication and sell it (I've never been a fan of amphetamines.) I have two or three girls who take their clothes off and kiss my chest without me asking them too, and I have friends who pick me up whenever I fall down, so why do I never stop whining? Why can I never feel fulfilled? Numerous pairs of lips feed mine owns lust. Yellow powder finds its way into my nasal cavity, and plenty of ***** rests cozily in my stomach, and plenty of chances to better myself fly by, so what am I looking for? Someday, I'll have peace. I know I will, this can't go on forever.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
Titled Number Thirty-Five
I have everything I could ask for. I'm white, straight and I hail from a lower-middle class household. So why do I lay in bed and wallow in self pity when everything I could ever ask for sits right in front of me. I have enough money to buy all the drugs I need and if I run out I can steal my mothers medication and sell it (I've never been a fan of amphetamines.) I have two or three girls who take their clothes off and kiss my chest without me asking them too, and I have friends who pick me up whenever I fall down, so why do I never stop whining? Why can I never feel fulfilled? Numerous pairs of lips feed mine owns lust. Yellow powder finds its way into my nasal cavity, and plenty of ***** rests cozily in my stomach, and plenty of chances to better myself fly by, so what am I looking for? Someday, I'll have peace. I know I will, this can't go on forever.
jeremy-duff
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
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