[PR] Gain and Get More Likes and Followers on Instagram.

the_kenaz the_kenaz

561 posts   150 followers   254 followings

Kevin Miller 

Talk about gritty in the motherfucking nitty. Ever sacrificed almost entirely what you know of your revolving life to focus entirely on whatever it is you're dedicated to? It's almost like a one man world tour with zero fucking money that goes nowhere but the living room. I like to think that something good will come out of all this, but I've pushed myself so fucking far in this direction it feels like I'm just floating in a rock and roll void millions of miles from home barreling in a crash course to wherever I'm headed, whatever and wherever that is. My two only friends in the world it seems are Pringle (beggin ass bitch) and Felix the kitty Kat. He fly af tho. It's not like life was really all that spectacular before the beef hit the blades, and as much of a nowhere-bound adventure it's been the uncertainty is a bitch and a half. Nowhere to go other than here and what feels like not a soul to talk to. I've got these fellas at least. It could be much worse and I try to be thankful for everything I have but when you hustle 16+hrs a day, pushing to the point of utter exhaustion and your "boss" (I don't know wtf to call it) is a fucking irresponsible drunk child that drinks every fucking dollar damn near down the drain it's easy to feel wayward and that all the sacrifice has been for nothing. You know what? I've made it this far and it's not like there's anywhere else to go. I do not have a 9-5 soul and this is the only thing in life I know to and how to do. I suck at keeping a steady job, I don't tolerate other people's BS well. Hopefully this shit pans out. It's fucking weird having this Instagram acct and not having a clue how many people stalk you while you get literally zero interaction in return. It's a fucking journal if anything, I don't have anyone to talk to so I might as well do it here. The things we do in the quest for love and acceptance can be baffling at times.
Yes I'm still working on what I've said I am. Being a perfectionist with a (currently) dysfunctional voice slows down the process a bit. Hey guess what. Time to practice some more. Woo fucking hoo. Eat shit @Instagram:)

The things we do for our children. Sorry. Separation anxiety gets the better of me when dude is months behind on rent and spends all the money being a bitch at the bar. I sure love being the babysitter of a drunk.

Spend hundreds a week at the bar on skanks that won't fuck you (I fucking wonder why) and have me rat chasing $10 across town. Fucking punk bitch every time you take a shot, which you just took several you reek of shit, BO and booze. BO and shit, not just BO. Not to mention how much of a nervous bitch you act like. I would say are, but hey I don't want to offend a sensitive bitch.

Pardon me for not giving a flying fuck about a dumbass drunk scug bitch that can t get a personal life together, has no perception of the bigger picture and struggles with words like 'particular' and 'individual'

If you don't look down then you will never know how high you fly.

Well how bout them titties. My pops swooped through the house today, I guess my grandpa on his side got me a bond or two before he passed and I just learned this today with a little breathing room. I've heard of plenty of people that get that breath of luck when they're about down and out, I figured I'd be shit fresh out of that luck but hey people work in mysterious ways. Then 20 mins after that my Greenback plopped on the front porch and now I can record guitar the right way. Bless the Kemp but I'm doing it with my own sound. I thank my new lucky hoodie.
Anyone got me on a QP for 8? I suck yo dick like I need the money.

Here's my contribution.

I don't always play guitar, but when I do, you're going to like the way it sounds. I guarantee it.

Hey @instagram, can someone tell me what happened last night? I've been on a 4 month adrenaline rush that I don't think I can wake up from any time soon. What seemed like yesterday I started ranting my ass of multiple times a day acting a damn fool. After spewing the most bar-none off the wall ramblings I've ever concocted over this innocent social media website, now I find myself having been kicked out of two homes consecutively, spending a short time homeless, a month in jail because I was boosting through cars (the official charge was that, and I quote "ate half a bar of granola" yada yada) and then went on a rampage smashing windows causing thousands of dollars in property damage. I can honestly say the first crime saved my ass in the end, and where in the fuck would I have ever found those words being formed in any plain ass slip of imagination going through this half gingers soul? I had always imagined is spend a night or two in the tank over something stupid. But that was fucking rad and beyond worth that time, worth every second of that 30 days. I was a fucking looney that was talking to myself for days at a time when I first got there. Now I'm sitting here looking back on the past few I'm wondering how in the ever living fuck did my psychotic rants get me here? It's been a time that movies are written on.
That was a fucking blast. What's next?

Chambana oh nah nah
You left your heart in East Urbana

Being in jail slows down your metabolism and develops stress and boredom eating habits and a gut like a garbage compactor. I need to start exercising. Don't get me started on the skinny bitches that don't even eat all their food.

Head floating lighter and higher than a cloud
I just think my ma might be crazy but damn shed be proud
Everything spinning faster under whatever I wear as a shroud
Silent screams are calling forevermore the loud

Most Popular Instagram Hashtags