Caution: This user is Out of Mind.
My mind is a fucked up web of drug and alcohol tampered strands of mesh; encased in a plastic jar with pretty slithers of muscle and wide assortments of unique identification that is me. I am a Serial Number by government, Carrisa by family, and Lin by friends. I am the one who fucks with everything...every door in my mind and see's how far I can stretch it before it decides to cave in on me to leave nothing but a Vegitable for you to stare at.
What is there to say? I'm a sort of a self made character. Morbid, I've lost the potential "decent citizen" part of my mind. But potentially a little more psychotic. I'm not afraid to say how I feel. And I won't refrain from letting my inner feelings out. If anything I'm probably not worth talking to.