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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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                            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

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