Rejection has an interesting place in the human mind. Close enough to remember how it feels, lest we forget how important it is avoid for our self esteem via our ego’s sake. Stomaching a nice big helping takes years of being torn apart to tolerate. It still hurts. Realizing your just the biggest waist of time isn’t easy to hear. But it isn’t far from the truth. Your as big a peice of shit as you’ve been told all along. To have thought any different was wishful thinking. Your just a fucking idiot. That doesn’t know anything and should just fucking kill myself because that’s all I make the people around me want to do. I’m expected to accept that I’m the entire problem and be there sympathetically. Why not just fucking kill myself if I’m the problem il just remove it. As I watch the love of my life just throw everything iv made up until this point around the room like it took no effort to get at all. Well fuck it, if I’m not gonna bother living through the night who gives a fuck what’s left of my shit. I havnt talked to my family since my birthday, more my fault than anyone’s again. Not that I’d have anything to say even if I did talk to them. I have nothing in common with them it’s hard to hold a conversation that’s more than talk about the weather. So I just classicly make everything worse so I’m done trying for anyone’s sake anymore. I hate myself as much as you do already bitch. You make me want to die in front of you just to make a point. A physical reference point instantly created in your mind displaying the true and actual nature of the demon that hides just beneath the surface. The never ending black pit of putrid ugly spoiled anger resentment and hatred bubbling over the edge of my eyes like the tears that I should have cried years ago. But held back and used them to fuel my hatred to the point of being completely consumed. There’s no room for anything else left apparantly, so your rejection can go fuck itself iv been feeling worse than you could ever make me feel already, give me one more reason and on my fathers grave il be fucking dead by morming. im done feeling guilt and im over feeling lonely. im by no means perfect but walking on eggshells isnt as easy as it sounds. blame whatever you want, your just angry and

Datura wyrmwould

to all those whome it may concern

Monday session at the dab bar

Rosin vaporizing junkies’ unite every Monday at the dab bar. If you plan on sitting downstairs, you better plan on bringing your 10,000 dollar glass bong, fitted with a quartz banger and capped with a mothership carb cap. Don’t forget to have as many alcohol wipes a cue tips as a pediatric nurse during flu season to soak up all the half smoked oil and wipe off every surface you come in contact with. And don’t forget to bring a 1000 dollar cannon camera on a stand so you can angle it perfectly for the videos you take of every dab so all your Instagram fans don’t miss your next overly romanticized high. So let’s all mash giant samiches and try our hardest not to pull any of the ten bitches that showed up with all 200 guys cuz it’s not like we can bring them back to moms house this late anyway. The sesh ends at midnight!!! Isn’t that nifty?!?!?! 

I am the Howard Roarke at every one of these Monday “seshes.” There I sit with a Mexican bottled squirt and  I’m high as a kite laughing at the small batch medical community that smears at the profit based market they don’t have the balls, money, experience, or connections for. The government made medical to profit off of the black market. I go to dispensaries for the benefits of being able to get a wide selection of products at absurd rates that my wallet can handle due to my unerst efforts in the cannabis business. For every ten thousand dollar bong those kids spend five years saving up for Ive broken and not cared. Maybe I’m just a cynical prick but fuck you I’ve earned it.