I’m sitting in the bathroom stall and I’m so terrified of interception, especially on account of my having dyed my face blue and everything, and anyway, I‘m sitting here hoping Capoeira doesn’t end soon because I’m up after them and I’m so scared to go up, scared I’ll ruin everything because I’m so high, but I hope I don’t, and I hope things turn out okay. The girl in the stall next to me is taking a shit but I guess I can’t complain because I’m typing on a fucking computer, I mean how weird is that? My finger really hurts, like I jammed it or something. I hope I didn’t jam it. I wish I could write in Iambic Pentameter. I wish I had internet in this bathroom stall. I’d go online, watch a video, try to relax. I need to go in. I love you.
Heh, I've got a few files like that filled with freshly baked thoughts. Now, you just have to translate it...
I am not on crack. I was legitimately in a bathroom stall when I wrote that, by the way. If I wrote this when I think I did.
Whaaaa What does this have to do with anything related to this site? It's not even a story just some retard rambling waste of time.