happy birthday

My tears taste like whiskey. And I'm growing over it. Tonight is the night to be drunk, sad, and shiney. I don't know, but I am tired of being hurt. I don't want to be hurt anymore. Why? Why would you ever hurt someone? I lived. I've learned. All and all, I am going to go to bio and islam tomorow and then live. Shine, live, live. Than go home. And take care of the lymes that have created my disease. My tears taste like whiskey. And your nothing but another knotch on my belt.