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a throng of black cloaked humans tower over me, i lay there as i watch, or don't watch them, since it is all pitch black. Among this crowd are my enemies, the very people who drove me to this fate, they exchange faggotries, making their faux little "tribute" to the fallen, to secure the well being of their soul in the eyes of their peers. Then most of them move on with their pathetic lives, just another day for them. Some of them might even feel gratified in a way, im just a virtual trophy to add to a shelf of real ones for when its all they have to look at and be proud of, for when they are a fat wife marrying SUV driving soccer dad that is. Some seem visibly shaken by the whole thing, its a turning point for them, a revelation in a way, they are so fucking stubborn that it took the death of someone else for them to wake up. They will grow up to become bearded psuedo hippie bastard fuckwits who tour around schools playing acoustic guitar and singing about how if you isolate your fellow students they will run off and kill themselves, and how they know from experience exploiting my story in the process. You have seen these people, you know who i am talking about. Maybe a few of the Clique sluts will unearth some of their inate necrophilia with the comment of they totally would have gone out with me if i was still alive. But i doubt it, and even if they did, would they be any better than the rest of the fucking world, we are all necrophliac fuckheads, we are obsessed with the dead, obsessed with what could have been, what would have been, and what will never be. No one gives a flying fuck about the living, even if it is they that need a flying fuck given. The dead feel no pain, and yet they are the most sensitive of all of us. for that one moment i am cloaked in false glory, all the good i have never
done is resurrected by a man quoting a book i've never read. The basis of a religion i've never given a rats ass about, and yet i am buried with it all. after this day i am forgotten, a statistic, a facebook group, another victim, what "you" dont want to end up like, and thats it. The bastards win whether they realize it or not, and i lost.
and this ladies and gentlemen, is why i don't go and off myself right now. this is what is keeping me from putting a .45 JHP into my head via the roof of my mouth. This scene made me reconsider painting my walls a new shade of bloody brains and bone fragments (now available at a lowes near you!) sure id love to just end it all, but i can't. I am kept alive by a tank of compressed hatred, and maybe its better that way. If the world is better off without me, then i intend to stay alive as long as i can.
To my enemies, allthough you might not have met that horrible case of syphilis and gonorrhea i have wished on you so many times, i thank you for your constant back to back bullshit and your lies, rumors, and fake tough guy threats i couldn't do it without you.
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