I ain't tryin' to fuck ya man, lookin' at my MySpace lotion in his hand...

... gets so random... My entire existence is random, I was an unplanned child, and everything's been unplanned since then. I really have nothing to say, but my fingers feel like typing, so I'm just gonna let my mind wnader and do this at the same time? Sorry if there are alot of run-on sentences, but it's a type of therapy? I guess so.. >. < I can't really think straight. Can't think in zig zags ...