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Description
     Yeah, I screwed around in art school. A lot.
     I'm still not exactly sure what happened. You see, I was in a stupor those days. And when I wasn't in a stupor, I was either working, or getting into another one. Ironically, it wasn't the pot or the alcohol. Being the wimpy beige marshmallow I was, I was susceptible to every self-destructive endeavor those idiots threw my way.
    Hell, I still haven't purged all the stupid out of my system. I don't remember being as much of a dumb ass as a kid. Or, wait…
     Was I?
     I can't remember…
     Psht! Yeah of coarse I can remember. I'm only twenty seven.
     Am I?
    ...Yeah of course I am. Of course I'm only twenty eight-DAMN IT!
     I do remember I was never good at math.
     Anyway,
     Like I said, I hung out with idiots. Those badgers managed to turn a sheep into wolf; a rather unintelligent, grungy, slobbery wolf. Well, more like one of those ugly monkeys that picks its butt hole, but that didn't fit the metaphor very well so, yeah.
     I had about as many rings as my shower curtain holder. Heck, My jeans were two sizes too small. I was well,faggy white trash, if you know what I mean.
     I do have some good memories. That secret beach. The putridly sweet smell of Georgia's salt water coast. Making love to someone as the ghost crabs skittered across the midnight sand. It was those times; they were the ephemeral paradises of sin. Why I look back so fondly, I'm not really sure why.
     In time I awoke from my stupor (Thank god.).
     I never was quite the same since then. Hell, maybe there was a small scrap of myself that I found in that mess. Could I have been the slightest bit fulfilled? Maybe.

Description
     Yeah, I screwed around in art school. A lot.
     I'm still not exactly sure what happened. You see, I was in a stupor those days. And when I wasn't in a stupor, I was either working, or getting into another one. Ironically, it wasn't the pot or the alcohol. Being the wimpy beige marshmallow I was, I was susceptible to every self-destructive endeavor those idiots threw my way.
    Hell, I still haven't purged all the stupid out of my system. I don't remember being as much of a dumb ass as a kid. Or, wait…
     Was I?
     I can't remember…
     Psht! Yeah of coarse I can remember. I'm only twenty seven.
     Am I?
    ...Yeah of course I am. Of course I'm only twenty eight-DAMN IT!
     I do remember I was never good at math.
     Anyway,
     Like I said, I hung out with idiots. Those badgers managed to turn a sheep into wolf; a rather unintelligent, grungy, slobbery wolf. Well, more like one of those ugly monkeys that picks its butt hole, but that didn't fit the metaphor very well so, yeah.
     I had about as many rings as my shower curtain holder. Heck, My jeans were two sizes too small. I was well,faggy white trash, if you know what I mean.
     I do have some good memories. That secret beach. The putridly sweet smell of Georgia's salt water coast. Making love to someone as the ghost crabs skittered across the midnight sand. It was those times; they were the ephemeral paradises of sin. Why I look back so fondly, I'm not really sure why.
     In time I awoke from my stupor (Thank god.).
     I never was quite the same since then. Hell, maybe there was a small scrap of myself that I found in that mess. Could I have been the slightest bit fulfilled? Maybe.