Wrizzit
For everything, down to the scribbles.
For everything, down to the scribbles.
"The last straw was a home-cooked meal, hosting my dad’s boss from the factory… coaxing me down the path into his nightmare with a promise of a job in exchange for servitude. Fuck that you dead-eyed, flannel clad, zombie."

Don’t Ride Railcar UUH17
Murdered by Crows