I'm not scared of them killing me. I'm scared of what I'll have to do when I realize they're not going to kill me and then I have to do something with my wrecked life.

LIke tomorrow.

Ooops. Shit. NO job. NO car. NO money. WAsted. ON running around after the Jack's.

That's scared. That's real life.

There's no one to call and cry about that bullshit to.

IF I did it, I'd only be a statistic.