“Mommy, it hurts! I need a band-aid! Big enough to cover the entire me!”

You ungrateful self-centered little shit. All you care about is your own self, your deluxe little black box of misery where you want to lock yourself for the rest of eternity.

 

FINE. You do that. I’ll come and empty a fucking lorry full of cement on it to make sure you will never come out of it again even if you change your mind.

 

You fucking moron, little deluded idiot. You are the only one who hurts, aren’t you? In this world of absolute happiness and perfection only you suffer. Your little frozen heart, your anguished cries, oh you poor thing that feels like garbage and was never given any love. And you want to live in squalor because this is what befits you. Strange words coming out of the pen of a man who has his own brand of clothes and god/dess knows how much money he makes in an average year doing what he loves most. Masturbating over his failures. 

 

You miserable stadium-sized egotist. A whining leech, a male drama queen asking to be patted on the back. A hypocrite through and through, deceiving first and foremost yourself. Never thought the emo movement would make it all the way to your country, but it did. And you were the father of it before it even existed. Congratulations, another candle lit on the altar of stupidity. 

 

What the fuck is it that you are trying to show to the rest of us? That human pain has your name in the copyrights section? That you can spell the alphabet of hurt, a knowledge gained by the countless times you’ve mutilated yourself? Every single time you’ve done this there is only one person you are thinking about and that person is your own self. Every time your hands hurt your body, every time your choices hurt you, THE ONLY FUCKING PERSON YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT IS YOURSELF. How to prolong your pain because you enjoy it so much. How to keep getting your fix, because you are addicted to your own misery. YOU ARE A JUNKIE. You are not deep, tormented, traumatized or misunderstood. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A JUNKIE ADDICTED TO THE CHEMICALS YOUR BRAIN PRODUCES WHEN YOU LOATHE YOURSELF. You’ll do anything on a daily basis to get your fix, you’ll care about nothing, appreciate nothing and stop nowhere in order to get your drug. People like you will ignore, destroy and sabotage everything good in their lives in order to keep their familiar narration of living in hell. And there is only one thing I want to do to your kind; spit you in the face. But I wouldn’t do that, no, because you’d get your fix then, you’d get your pleasure. And people like you deserve to get back only what they give out. NOTHING. Zip. Nada. So please stop masturbating over your issues and crawl back to the hole you came out of. No-one here will pay attention to your antics or pity you. No-one will bother with you any longer or care. 

 

I RENOUNCE YOU. In the name of the one I love the most, my other half, I renounce you. In my own name that I hold sacred I renounce you. In the name of humanity and hope I renounce you. All bonds between us, past and present, are severed. Go in peace or go to hell; it makes no difference to me anyway. I’ve had enough of self-centered whining leeches. Enough of meaningless BULLSHIT. To hell with it.