One who constantly suspect others of wrongdoings are often themselves their perfect subject—a word to the wise.
Life is like a video game, you get to choose which difficulty level you wanna spawn in. I choose hardcore so when I die I’m out, bitches.
I do not think of me as better; I am better—SCRUBS.
I have an idea, why don’t everybody just go back to their country of origin; you know back to your lands—shotgun, I’m first—because I think that we have all just over-welcomed our visit haven’t we and it’s starting to stink now.
“Let me put on these gloves while I paint because Heaven forbid that I’m discovered as a day job painter; in any case, I hope they would be proud of me now because that’s the closest I get from looking like a real doctor.”
Tomorrow is never a guarantee, so I like to keep my dishes clean and my mind ready.
The girl says; “You hurt my feelings.” I’m pleased to hear that, now where does it hurt.
The girl says; “I want honesty.” I’m pleased to hear that, now how do you go from talent to shit.
—A selfish bliss.
Clean and cold, or warm and dirty.
Yeah, Amine; “lol.” I’m forgotten in the corner.
Yeah, I don’t know what I’m talking about.