microwave rape
  
  I already know who I am, why do I NEED to pretend? (Ratatouille)
  I know what I'm supposed to do!!! Get a job, get a cute girlfriend, and find something to do for the rest of my life in suburbia... 
  But what if you're confused and can't figure out what job to get? What if you're funny looking and you can't get a girlfriend?
  The awful truth that noone wants to hear, is that sometimes... being young, is a lot harder, than being dead. (Pump up the Volume)
  Of course, that's the problem-- go ahead, Bob express your feelings! (Grosse Pointe Blank)
  
  If I'd had a gun, I would have killed myself.
  I am starving for love. Yet I am so unworthy.
  
  I hate the smell of weed. It's incriminating, unavoidable.
  Fuck you Dostoyevsky, you too, God. 
  I can't afford you, or believe in you, and it annoys me to no end to be a nonbeliever. Self-isolating again. Bitch, I drink alone.
  Braindead worthless silent vague scumbag.
  Upload my consciousness so the misery machine can continue, lurking in the subways and trainstations of cyberhell, lingering in a personal purgatory.
  "How come I only saw one set of footprints?!"
  
  Yay, I'm officially fake and gay. 
  
  Fuck off, Nobody. Oh, right, I guess you did.
  Still hung up over that bitch?
  
  Waiting for my youth to die.
  
  Test one
  Text two