You can only speak in vowels. You see, i've been to every end in life. I've been the richest kid on the block, ive been the bottom of the barrel. I've been that homeless kid you see on the street, asking you for change because he has to eat. What kind of person do you think you would be if you were homeless, living on the street with no friends, no money, looking for a new bush or alley to sleep in every night? I've been there. I've been to the top too, hanging out with celebrities, Korn, System of A Down, Jared Leto, Lindsey Lohan and i've gotten drunk with Paris fucking Hilton. I've been everywhere. I've told Johnathan Davis that hes a fucking bitch for stealing my last cigarette, I've sparred with Silvester Stalone, and I've been a camera man on a porn shoot. And now still... I sit here, staring at that one sixshooter revolver. And i wonder.... After doing everything, what is there left? Everybody i know treats me as a tool. I'm just the guy that will go pick them up and take em somewhere, buy them a pack of cigarettes, get booze. I am the guy they use when they need a rebound boyfriend, i am the one they use when they want to see how much they can emotionally fuck up.... This girl, tells me shes madly in love with me, and then starts going out with some random fucking moron, whos got a kid with his other girlfriend. How much do you think it fucks with one when youve been told for months now that youre the only one for somebody, that you are all that their heart desires, and that happens. And when your best friend trades you in for some random slut he met. Doesnt even bother to call you even once in a while just to say whats up, and the only person that has any interest in is the guy that you have the most problems with? How is that possible? Shit... Me and sean have so many problems, hes slept with a girl i really like, hes tried to sleep with a girl i was dating at the time, i broke him up with his kids mom, i made them hate each other. Hes gone to jail because of me, i've gone to jail because of him. He beat the shit out of me, i've blown up his car. He's tried to shoot me and i've robbed him dry, and yet, hes the only one thats called me in the last month to say whats up, we should hang out, grab lunch. Yeah, i hung out with him, just because hes my worst enemy, i keep him close, not as close as friends. I hate his guts and he hates mine. We lie to each other constantly. One gun, one bullet. Why is it that something like the squeeze of a trigger sounds like the greatest symphony i would ever hear in my entire life?