Food for Gluttons
Matty is the kind of man you’d see on a street corner asking for change. Obviously you wouldn’t give him change, but you would probably think he was pretty cute for being homeless and broke. Assuming he still brushed regurlarly and had access to razors and other various toilettries.
I am too wierd for this existance, as HST brilliantly stated “too weird to live and too rare to die.” I can only hope that one day this strange brew of thoughts will one day lead to wild success although I am cognisant that this more than likely won’t be the case. Where does one begin though, where do I start? I have been a stray dog for years now and nothing has gotten more clear (or less clear for that matter).
“DJ Layze is in a maze, one he did not construct! He took a right, he took a left, God damn that nigga got stuck.”
That pleasant rhyme is all too ironic.
