Saturday, December 15th, 2001 | 13:57
I wish this were my dream

No amount of drugs could possibly help me cope with all this crap at home.

I hate everyone for what I think you might be thinking about me.

I hate me for what I think you might be thinking about me.

I project me problems quite well.

I think it's time to give up and give in.

Musical catch-22's will be the death of me.

And then it will be someone else's turn to project.

Spin the bottle blame game.


Things could have been different. -Third Eye Blind (All Right Caroline)


Typing instinctively, you didn't even ask me if it was all right.

I want people to die.

Fuck the critics.

Fuck our superiority.

I'm just tired of playing the living game.

Every step I take, every move I make, I'm ripping someone off.


Sitting here all alone...but I've still got all my expectations. -Kevin Cadogan (Separation)


Everyone is probably right, but why can't you see me standing right here?

I still hope for a patch of black ice, to be sideswiped, for a disgruntled kid I teased once three years ago.

So weakwilled, I'm suprised I'm not dead.

Who will be the first to say, "Hey, wait"?

Howard Raider has my Swiss Army dignity.

Sega on the big screen fmother.

Fmother, fworld, feverything.

An excerice in uncreative depression.

Brought to you by the letters F, M, E, and the word "cope"
For the people, by the people you read and live with. 27 minutes

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