09.19.03 – Keeping the insanity at bay is more important than listening to my so called friends and their idiocy. I have hidden this text from the casual user. Only one of three types will have found this page: 1. You stumbled upon it simply passing your mouse over a random character and at that very moment clicked on the character. 2. You were told about this link from some one else. 3. You saved my site down to your hard drive for further reading and in the process it pulled these pages with it.
I am only talking to the third type here. The first two types I could care less about any more.
Everyone is worried that I will kill myself. I won’t, at least not yet. I have never really been one to think ending my misery would be valuable, no instead I’d really rather stay and cause all those idiots and lost souls as much trouble and pain that I can. Who cares about their gods. Who cares about their governments. Who cares about their ideology at all. Let the fucker’s burn. Let all of it die away.
My so called friends all tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, they think I’m funny, and as you can tell from my guestbook, I’m actually called a freak and a fool by people that I’ve known for more than twenty years. It’s amazing that I’ve survived this long with friends like that. My only respect comes from my mother and how sad is that? After all she has to, she doesn’t have the choice, she’s committed to my existence just because she birthed me.
I long for a time when I could write like I was something. Now I can hardly concentrate. I can hardly think a single thought completely through, but it doesn’t matter because the secret of the world isn’t in words, it seems to be in math. Through math we find might.
Well I’ve got nothing else to say, except screw you.