I try to keep a good head on my shoulders, but I seem to be grouped in with the weirdos and crazies. I have my faults, but there is a more to me than a set of arctic blue eyes and tattoos. You want to read the rest of the book then I put the choice in your hands. My feet are size 9.5, but I hate wearing shoes. I love the outdoors, but I never want to leave my bed. I have trouble explaining myself because I have yet to get to know myself. The once loud and crazy guy you once knew, has been somewhat silenced. I'm easily annoyed, and I hate liars. I dislike hypocrites, even though I am one myself. I have a long way to go in this world, and I don't know what my calling in life is at the moment. I am calloused, and easily bruised. I like to draw, but my drawings are unsatisfactory. Sometimes I wonder why I continue to look for a partner in crime. Often I have found people rarely stand up to who they say they are in a time of danger or confrontation

I am hopeless romantic who uses music to share his emotions and feelings. I won't settle for just anyone, she has to knock me off my feet and surprise me every day. I often want nothing more than to be comfortable, to be at ease. When I hit the door when I get home from work all the stress and emotion from the day stays there.
I think left overs are the best food anyone can have. I want to have that Cory and Topanga kind of relationship.