I don't feel very alive... Yes, I've smoked again, and yes, I didn't sleep last night, but I did get a two and a half hours of some painfully numb sleep in the afternoon. I feel horrible. Damn this laptop. Damn these clothes. Damn your fucking second hand music CDs and all the movies you're so proud you've watched. Damn your stupid little conversations about how you understand people. Damn your stupid little thoughts about how you think you understand life. Fuck you. Fuck your diplomas. Fuck the classes you take at school. Fuck your friends. Fuck the English language. Fuck slang. Fuck you.
We are all rushing and trying so hard to feel complete. Look at that those stupid clothes you crave to buy, they look stupid on the clothes hanger, they look stupid with you holding them, they look stupid on you, and you look stupid with them on. Buying books. Buying food. Drinking water. Coughing. Fuck. Fuck them. Fuck you. Did I give you permission to look at me you stupid seventeen-year-old?! Look at that overly expensive hat on your head, do you think that will protect your ego from getting bruised? HMMM?! Do you? Do you think that music T-shirt you've bought from the store expresses your individuality? Do you know that I am smiling at you because I think you're funny that you think you're worth anything special?
Take off your clothes. Shave your head. Stand over there in that army of disgusting pieces of moving flesh. What do you have now? You look like everyone else. Worthless. You are nothing. You are not pretty. You are not cool. You are not hot. You are not smarter than the next person. You are just this thing that collects information and is molded by society. Nothing more important. You HAVE nothing left. WHERE IS YOUR EGO NOW? Can it protect you from this humiliation? Can you impress me now? You have no tricks left. You are scared and alone without your ipod, cellphone and friends to make you feel secure. Get down on your knees and shove your face into the dirt. Tell me, what will make you completely happy, what will make you complete? YOU DON'T KNOW? How sad. All these years spent on this Earth and you don't even know what will make you happy?
I am useless. I am not helping the world be a better place. I am one of the rotting disgusting pieces of moving flesh. I want a fucking bowl of cereal made from your skull. I am not helping people understand life through science or religion. I am not going to school trying to trick myself to thinking I am going to be worthy in the near future. Be a doctor, be a nurse, be a dentist. Make some good money and help people. Helping people should be what I want to do, not a job. I don't want to wake up in the morning to think "ugh, I don't want to go out and help people for money today". I don't give a damn about fame, and I don't give a damn about having millions of dollars in a bank account, and I certainly don't give a damn about what worthy people think about what I do with myself. Their worth is worthless to me.
I am completely happy when I'm angry. I am completely happy when I'm depressed. I am completely happy when I'm happy. I am completely happy watching you be unhappy.
Get down on all fours and polish my boots with your tongue you worthless piece of shit.
fuck everybody!! ugh, i wanted to write a piece like this yesterday while sitting in front of my workplace, watching all the suits go by, hearing their empty little snippets of conversation, watching their fake smiles, looking at them and wondering if they have boring lives with no real purpose but to make money. then i wanted to write a story about a mass-murderer opening fire on all of them. but you have to write stories like that in the third person and then pitch them to some movie studio with bruce willis or some other person as the hero who stops the bad guy. otherwise people become worried...
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