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Who did you think you were, tryna steal from the. Nobody does that and lives, son. Their shaved heads fuzzed in my vision. Ballsy motherfuckah, I almost feel sorry for you. This one was white, lacking the thick Hispanic accent that the others brandished. I chucked the ball hard but it went wide. Elsa was tugging on my tattered pant leg.
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I walked across the street, my eyes filled with the discordant array of wavelengths seeking to represent the advent of industrialisation and human ingenuity. My shoulders were bruised from the ruthlessness of the persons walking to their specific destination; their eyes were hollow and narrow. Was I the only one who could see this? The food had stained their faces a grimy orange, a deplorable and cacophono.
As I walk down the road,. I can feel their cold eyes fall upon me. They think that I am one of them. One of those who shattered the bubble,. Which had lasted so long in this society. These people insult me, ridicule me, and more. Than anything, hate me. It does not matter who I am or what I do,. I am only this to them. To them, I was one of the hijackers,. To them I am a terroist.
1575;لخير فيما اختاره الله. This blog has no articles. Subscribe to my blog! Post to my blog.