I need to quit school and write my novel that I'm planning on finishing by the end of the year.
I sit in the four-walled room, imprisoned in the teacher's blabbing, thinking to myself "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?!?!?!?!"
Not the place for me.
I need to get a job so that I can backpack the world after highschool.
I believe that there is a god - or some other-dimensional power - but we do not need to worhip it.
the deepest things come on the thinnest sheets of paper
Wind, Follow Me!