Still me, tough guy. Writing chick flick shit, certainly cause I’m fucking drunk. I miss you man. Every fucking day in my life, every time I pass in a crowd, I’m looking for you. Trying to see if you’re here, looking up for me. But you'renot. Still in South Side huh? Hope you’re okay. Thugs are assholes and you can’t fuck everyone of them, they are not me. Hope you miss me too, sometimes. Don’t want to this being one-sided. But I don’t want you to fucking cry. You’re a tough guy, firecrotch. Get over me. But not too much. Think of me at the end of a vodka bottle. I’ll be in the last drops. Mexico sucks, guys are dumb, and I can’t find a warm mouth like yours. Goodnight.

13 Reasons Why

Books changed my world… I guess not everybody would understand.