=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= POOR, POOR ME ------------- At the age of eleven, I tried to kill myself for the first time. I failed completely, and spent the next few years in a deep depression. I considered myself worthless - after all, I was not even able to properly end my own life. My parents did not understand me. Literally speaking. They consumed so much alcohol every day that they did not even understand their own thoughts. Mom tried to sell me to strangers and punished me with her knuckles every time she failed. Dad abused me sexually together with our neighbors, friends and close relatives. I had only one friend during my childhood: myself. Unfortunately, I was not very fun to play with, so I decided to hate myself. This eventually led to the suicide attempt I mentioned in the beginning of this highly interesting textfile. I began using heroine at the age of twelve. Since I was afraid of needles, I had to take the drug via my rectum. Due to this, I lost complete control over my bowels. My pants were always filled to the limit with my own excrement. This was not especially popular among dad's friends. No one knows the real me. This is not very surprising since I am I, and no one else. It would be quite bizarre if we were able to look into other people's minds just like that. However, I enjoy knowing that only I know the real me. The real me and I and friends. We talk to each other, and we do fun things together. The real me tells I what a great person me is. I, me and The real me are a team. Me sometimes accuses I for spending to much time with The real me, but that is just how friends are from time to time. I wish me would get to know The real me, but this is only something No one does. And No one is always busy writing textfiles, like this one. School went bad. Even though I knew that I was a genius, my teachers managed to overlook this feature. I decided to revolt against the system, which - given the way the System works - always led to sanctions, like 'Big Bob will punch you in the face unless you give him your lunch box'. College really fucked me up. It was during this period that I came to understand that 'The System' is all people, except me. My genius forbid me to become a part of The System. Therefore, I isolated myself, abusing nicotine, THC, speed, heroine, crack, alcohol, vitamin C, LSD, TCP/IP, hashish, ice and coffee. Women do not understand me. They just cannot dig what a great person I am, my great thoughts, my great beliefs, my great textfiles, my great anxiety, and that the size of my penis would amaze them - if I had not cut it off by mistake. I ought to admit that these are mere speculations. I have never had a woman in my whole life. The reason for this is simple: they would not understand me, my great thoughts and beliefs. If, however, some woman (preferably one whom looks like they do in Hustler) reads this and comes to understand what a great person I am, do not hesitate to come over to my place and show me what adult people do when they are alone. Oh, well, never mind by the way. I just remembered that I had, in a moment of 'hard-core truth-saying', claimed that love were nothing more than the product of the needs of our selfish genes; a theory I picked up when I scanned the latest issue of 'Incomprehensible Science Made Easy For The Masses' yesterday. Television sucks. How can people stand watching all that crap? I never watch television. Yesterday I saw a commercial. It sucked. How can people stand watching commercials. Politics sucks. Well, at least I guess it does. Since no political party has ever been close to a proposal that truly appeals to my genius, I never vote. Someone once asked me 'now, how would such a proposal look like?' Is that not obvious? To me it is, but to you it is not, because you do not know the real me. Teachers suck. Parents suck. Computers suck. You suck. They suck. Textfiles suck. Only idiots write textfiles about the anxiety they experience during puberty and imagine that someone will be interested in reading them. It is like boring your friends to death with your sexual fantasies. My files are, however, exceptions. Those who find my angst uninteresting are all a bunch of fools that ought to be put to death. While we are at the subject of death, let me assure you that I want to die. God, I want to die. Oh man, Jesus fucking Christ, how much I want to die. Let me just finish these last sentences of this file, then I will try to kill myself again. If I succeed, this text will live forever. People will worship it, teachers will hand out copies to their pupils, the president will weep as he reads it. You will be ashamed of yourself as you realize that you did not realize what a great genius I really were. - the gnn =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". 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