I fucking miss my old trashy self. Not that I regret you, my dear son. I love you and you are the only good thing that happened in this bad, bad, veerrry bad (raaawrrr) love affair. It’s just that, I miss the things I used to do. I miss skating, I really fucking miss it. I miss my good old pale pilsen, i miss the beauty and the chaos of being under the influence of…stuff, i miss the moshpits, noisy pubs and crowded gigs, i miss the taste of nicotine on my lips and the yellow stain in between my fingers. And its weird that I actually DO miss home. I miss my dog. I miss my mom. Hmm.