Me. In reality I'm a suicidal drug addict. Who really needs to get his life together. I don't do anything but pop pills, go to class, write, smoke weed, sell drugs, fukk women and walk and chill around Manhattan with other people who need to get their lives together. I'm depressed. I'm sad all of the time. I want to die. I walk the line well though. I still do what I have to do. I put up a front very well, in real life as well. I'm always walking that line. I somehow manage to get through life doing the bare minimum because I'm actually that gifted, but I'm really sad. All of the time. I'm not homeless and I have money and all that shyt. A lot actually. But I really do need to stop getting high and I really need to get my life together. I basically underachieve at a very high level. It's insane actually. I don't really lie on thecoli. I just pretend I'm okay. I'm not. It's crazy, I look at all I've accomplished. And I realize that I could do so much more if I stopped doing drugs. I just fear that my creativity is somehow tied into my depression and addictions so if I stop, I'll be losing a big part of myself. I have a car a crib, all that. But I'm just not fukking okay. I have heart to hearts with the people that I get fukked up with. Mostly women. And I lie very well, not always verbally. Just by the way I keep myself up. You probably wouldn't know just how fukked up I am by looking at me. But I know. And there are people who know. I'm just tired of living a lie. I wish the person that I pretend to be was who I actually am.