tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46518167569858882492011-04-21T11:13:34.021-07:00The Ochoco Reviewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193077269744427556noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651816756985888249.post-71399467383663488422006-11-28T16:55:00.000-08:002006-11-28T16:58:49.380-08:00I was the kid who always would be there when you were high. I was the kid who would be with the guy that you would call. I was the kid with that tall person you would get your drugs from. I was a kid who, I was a kid who, I was the kid who you would meet in that dark and gloomy alleyway and you would start to say, something... Then I would be the kid who would shut you down in that moment in time and you would not know what to do because I was the kid you would be afraid of.<br /><br />I was the kid with the excuse. I was the kid with the reason. I was the kid who would listen to that music that would make you sick. I was the kid who would ride his bike, I was the kid who you would be riding your bike with, and then all of a sudden... I was the kid who you would not want to hang out with...<br /><br />I was the kid who, I was the kid who, I was the kid who was always looking for an excuse to start a fight and then... I was the kid who you would steer clear from because I was with all of those kids with Mohawks who were considered anarchists. I was the kid who wanted to <em>be </em>anarchy. I was the kid who would leave you wondering why... I was the kid who you would wonder why... Why... Why?<br /><br />I was the kid who you would not want at your party. I was the kid who you would want to kill. I was, I was, I was. I don't care what I was because...<br /><br />I am, I am the kid that calls you, and then hangs up.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4651816756985888249-7139946738366348842?l=1206jl.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Ochoco Reviewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193077269744427556noreply@blogger.com0