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FUCK THIS.

Yeah, you heard me. Fuck it all. There�s not a single part of my life this second that I think is worth any respect, any preservation, anything but a royal FUCK OFF.

So how do I get such a horrible opinion?

Simple... watch me spiral down.

One girl told a lady that her son was getting screwed. The same girl plays with pretty things like AIDS and happy pills... her universe is broken and she tries to pass it on, but never seems to notice my relief when she is gone.

One man told another man that both of them were wrong, but neither of them thought to ask me what was going on, they sat there, one in silence, one who just would not shut up... and all they really managed was to call each others� bluff.

One girl told her partner that she coulda shoulda might, and he threw out a tantrum, went and hid for half the night. She talked to me, and told her tale, but would not let me speak a word in his defense, or tell him off... just let him be.

Tech support is crazy, work is spinning me around, with a schedule I can�t handle that will run me to the ground, and a series of Team Managers, all of whom are mad, but hey, they tell me if I leave, it�s me who�s really bad.

So there I am, with problems that I really can�t explain, nothing but a moral issue driving through my brain, nothing but a question which is tearing me apart �cos it�s not about my body or my work, it�s just my heart.

There�s a boy away in Canada who finally got it right, he�s the one who brings me comfort when the world turns out the light, he�s the one who understands the hungers that I hide away but he�s off across two countries and I can�t have him today.

There's a man, I think Virginia is the state that he calls home, or at least the place he's staying now until he starts to roam, he has managed to distract me from a thousand types of pain but I'm still a bit afraid that he'll cause it all again.

There's a lover, sweet and gentle, who would never cause me harm, and it's this that drives me batty, leaves me screaming in alarm 'cos I know I want the violence and I know I want the rage, but every time I try to pry, he hides himself away.

There's a new slave peering inward, looking through the open door, and I can't help feeling hungry, as I've often felt before; even though I know this brand-new boy can't take his place, I still try to quench my lonlieness within that pretty face.

If I took the time to mention all the other things gone wrong, all the loss of rhyme and reason, the silence of my song, if I took the time to tell you of the anger and the hate then when I went to work on Monday, damn, would I be late.

So instead of finding details, I�ll just list a few more woes, some of them familier, others hid from friends or foes. There�s a problem with my body and a problem with my mind, there�s a hundred little spiders dancing �round the house at night.

There�s a boy who says he loves me, and another says it too, and it makes me kinda wonder if any of it�s true. There�s a girl who wants my number, now I�ve heard she�s chasing guys, tell me where�s the boost in that one, turning lesbians awry?

There�s a lady who would change me... make that several, young and old, but no matter how I phrase it they won�t listen when they�re told that I don�t want to be perfect and I don�t want to be good, that the only thing I want is just to ONCE be understood.

There�s a city full of people and they�re all alive and well, there�s a universe of people and I hope they go to hell, there�s a tiny little bedroom with me tucked safe inside... but every now and then I wish I�d just gone out and died.