Frost, the Czech Artist

I'm just a curbside prophet, with my hand in my pocket
And I'm waiting for my rocket to come,

I'm just a curbside prophet, with my hand in my pocket
And I'm waiting for my rocket to go,

I'm sure I can wait, I won't worry my life away, not me, not today

Let me enlighten you, the light in me has burned out

I'm doing everything out of anger, I',m drowning in my own sea of loathe.

Leave me, watch yourselves.

Take me down to the paraidise city,
Where the grass is green, and the girls are pretty
Wont you take me home

My 4 companions

Broken People. Disconnected lives. I've seen too much. I've had enough.

I'm joining you again, this time the harder the fall. I don't need you. But I may want you.

Heck, even angels fall.

Not really an update

It's ironic, really. I wanted excitement, and I have it. And maybe it's too much for me to take. Past 2 weeks has been craaazy, and for me the year has just begun. (I just saw a hikki on Tim's neck, hehe)

MOS, eupohric as usual. Like it. Oh which reminds me, i finally let go of the mudskipper. Maybe I'll feel like I'm out of that puddle of mud. Maybe.

For now, let S, D and R rule the world.