Haha, He left.

Hi love! I think you left this account? I'm not sure you remember since its been years. But just know I remember you and I really miss your encouragement and comments on my book/profile. I hope you're doing well now <3

Hey guys, it's meeeee, lmao. Uhm yeah I am officially back and ik none of you visit here anymore, but I hope for you guys to come back. Drop a follow when you can!! 

Do уou publish on Neobook ?

hey skeps ik u left but i thought i would say hi

Ha, sicker than your average
          Poppa twist cabbage off instinct
          Niggas don't think shit stink
          Pink gators, my Detroit players
          Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn

Heyyy, how are you old me? Still depressed? xD

Fuck everybody. I'm ditching this stupid ass account and making a brand new one. I'm deleting my book, and placing it on my new account. FUCK EVERYONE HERE THAT ISN'T ON MY DISCORD (except my online dad here, fuck him.) You all forgot about me. It was fun while it lasted, goodbye. 
          
          I've been wanting to do this for a while. Nobody cared so now... I'm leaving. AND NOBODY IS GETTING MY NEW ACCOUNT!!!

Yay! I'm being avoided!

tw: vent. 
          
          I haven't felt right ever since I left the Bronx this weekend. I haven't slept for over an hour in 3 days, which in total was only 40 minutes of sleep.. in 3 days. My skin doesn't feel like mine, it's all oily and itchy, and I just wanna rip it off. Sleeping in my bed doesn't feel right, without holding one of the cats. I can't hear my mom callin' me for breakfast, I hear "[DEADNAME], WAKE UP AND GET YOUR FUCKING ROOM DONE!". There aren't any little bastards annoying me. There's no edible food around anymore. I don't ever feel the right to ask for anything, and instead just put my offers to my siblings. I don't feel tired, and am willing to sleep. I keep feeling the need to get high, and get drunk. I feel alone, as if I don't have the comfort of the air. The scent of dog and play dough isn't here anymore, instead it's the scent of the smoke I produce, and the alcohol I drink. I don't feel like I can walk and go anywhere without the judgement of others... 
          
          It's almost like.. New York isn't where I belong. I belong in the Bronx. A place where my real family is... where the annoying bastards can wake me up, and steal the kittens from my sweater. Where the dogs jump on my lap, and lick the shot outta my face. Where I can say something, and not be told it's my fault. Where I don't feel the need to be numb. 
          And most importantly.. 
          It's where I feel.. Home.

I love talking to my best friends ^^