As I prop my black leather boot covered feet upon this desk, I cannot help but run my hands over my mask made of flesh, to my long hair and think. "Where do all of these delinquent drama queens come from?" I do not understand how such stupidty can be bred. Her whore of a mother must have been imbred. I guess your mistakes shall come back to haunt you one day, your life lined with nothing but regret, don't hate me because I'm better, don't hate me because, compared to your boy friend, I'm sexier. Just hate me for the sake of hateing. It'll turn those wounds into nice, memorible scars. Then you can truly remember, why I'm great. We've already burned the structure down, and explaind your fate. Shall I start with this feeling of pure hate? Why do I hate you? Simply because I can, and do, just because, I really want to. Actually, I think you are another corporate clone, created for the purpose of being dumb. Just to act cool, to be a tool for your company, when all you've really acomplished is, creating another enemy. Listen Delinquent drama queen, go home, delete your name, no one even cares about all of your pathetic pain, I don't give a shit if you show sympathy, because for real works of art, you have no artistic sight. Wishful thinking in my mind, hopeing one day, the police force will stuble across a raped and mutilated corpse, yes, it'll be your decaying carcass they shall find. Just remember, Delinquent drama queen, No one really cares, they just pretend, because you have a mental malfunction, I have just revealed. Now all that which was concealed is in the open, bleeding dry, soon, your love for yourself, and your life will wither and die. |