responsible for suicide

it's because of people like this, that i want to die.
people that can't be mature enough, human enough...
kind enough, compassionate enough...
these people do not deserve to live.
they throw monkey shit at art, they destroy and desecrate anything good, they act like they're the only thing that should ever exist, and how dare i set foot on their planet.
they're children. cowards. immature, fake, plastic products.
they do not know who the fuck they really are.
they're all acting out some ancient role.
doing what they're told.
following orders.
they're all just naysayers, and they'll never be anything more than that.
and they know it.
i want you to take a good look at these comments. any time i've been on this network, this is all i get. i remember that 'jax' asshole from before. what a fucking douchebag. he thinks he owns that fucking network, but doesn't seem to actually be 'friends' with anyone else on there, just talks shit, and blames others for it. he thinks he's so perfect, he's allowed to do so. projecting piece of shit.
i truly hope you all die. soon. horribly. don't ever fucking come around me, or i will kill you, i promise you that. i don't tolerate that treatment. why the fuck would i want to be the friend of such an asshole, but they can't stop talking to me like their information is wanted here. there truly is no convincing them otherwise. and they just refuse to be human, or to grow a fucking heart.
i just keep thinking of that pantera lyric, running it through my head...
'his dick, his gun, his brain, his badge'
i hate all men. i detest all men. i loathe all men. you're all scum. you're all the same. you're all children. stop pissing on the seat, get off the fucking drugs, pull your fucking pants up, stop calling me bro, and get a fucking life! stop making shit worse for me! it's because of every fucking one of you scumfucks that i can't get a girl! they expect me to be you, which tells me, you're exactly what they want, which means you don't have the balls to be anything else! you fucking fake coward! i detest you! i don't want to be your fucking friend, so fuck off already, you pathetic fucking losers! i am nothing like you, and there's a major fucking reason for that! stay the fuck away from me!
that being said, i fucking detest all women, too. you coward cunts can't even fucking look at me, you make me fucking sick, you make me the most suicidal, cause you're fucking unattainable, untouchable, yet desirable, your body's a fucking commodity, while mine's a crime, i'm repulsive, repugnant, disgusting (in your words), i'm completely attainable, easily touchable for free, yet fucking undesirable, and worth about as much to you as a fucking dog turd on a sidewalk. i know how ugly i am, you make it so fucking obvious, ladies. men stare at me, but women... how stiff are your necks? do you have a cock stuck in there, or what? why can't you be a little more brave? less fake and plastic? why do you have to advertise your ass like that? why do we have to stay clothed in this society? why can i never see anything out of the ordinary? nudity, sex, love, anything besides shopping, credit cards, cops, conformity, consumption, ignorance, apathy, hatred... that's all your fault, ladies, yes, i'm blaming you, it's your fuckin' fault. you sacks of shit do nothing to spread genuine love, i want you to fucking know that. understand that. you are failing yourselves, as well as all the rest of us. objectify yourselves, act like you're entitled to yourselves, and fucking develop a sense of fucking humour! your cheap, plastic, atrophied facial expressions aren't worth the dime they were stolen from! does anyone fucking understand me yet!
all you want me to be... is you. all you want me to be is happy. even if it's fake, false. you have no clue how much you repulse and disgust me, you're disturbing, sickening creatures.
these people on this network, though. it's because of people like them, who are fucking everywhere, because they're over cloned, being spit off an assembly line at astonishing rates, cause it takes so very little to create them, less than cum, less than love, less than a slut in a short skirt advertising ass like it's a product, walking around with cum in her hair and crack in her cleavage. you're walking abortions. that's all you are. i really want this to hurt you. i want you to be as hurt as i have been at the sight of your disturbing words of hatred, ignorance, unacceptance, and inhuman cruelty. fuck you.
you are nothing more than an inspiration from a replica of what not to be. the most beautiful human on this planet detests you. and you mean absolutely nothing. you'll exist in zero history books.
i truly hope you all die. i've had enough of this shit.
i'm leaving seattle. and i'm never coming back. i've seen enough. you've thrown more than enough monkey shit at me, and proven your maturity over and over again, quite consistently.
you are nothing but the audience who will watch me rise.
you are nothing more than the empty, soulless heads on which i will step.
'i'll step on you on my way up, i'll fuckin' step on you on my way down'... (marilyn manson).
fuck yourselves. all of you. stop trying to be my friend, stop talking to me like it's wanted, stop wasting my fucking time, stop standing in the way of a fucking bulldozer, you fucking morons. is that all you'll ever be good for? blocking the creation of anything better than you? thinking you're that fucking great? blocking bulldozers? that's your duty on this planet? standing in the winds of evolution and gambling that you won't get blown the fuck away? are you really that fucking stupid? cause if you are... you're not meant to be here. you belong here less than i do. the only point to your existence, is to inspire improvement. i hope you get murdered on the way home tonight, by a methhead bum with a stolen gun. i hope they take everything of yours and sell it for heroin. what would compel a human to act this way toward another human? ever?
go ahead, cowards, come and find me, and see how long you last. come and throw more monkey shit at me, and keep thinking you're a god. keep thinking you're better than me, keep thinking you're above me, cause you're always right. not even history lasts forever. try it. try me. try everything. test the boundaries of this reality. see how much evil you can get away with. see how much monkey shit you can throw, how much art you can desecrate, before karma catches up with you.
see, the difference between you and i, is...
i know who the fuck i am. i'm the furthest thing from you. you're repulsive. i'm perfect. i'm offensively unique, dangerously original, and daringly suicidal. in fact, i'm bringing suicide in style. i make it look cool. i wear it so much better than you. cause mine's genuine, authentic, and doesn't have a barcode. my mother wasn't an assembly line, no she drove a hotrod nova, asshole. we're so much better than  you, we make you look like the products you are. pussies. infected rectal cash holes. who sold you? who made you?
because you make me want to die. and yes, that's absolutely something for you to be proud of, and advertise to all your friends.
'can't you hear the violins playing your song'... (pantera).
my standards are so far above you, i can sell you suicide.
fuck you people. fuck you all. i know how fake you are. i can smell the plastic on you. go ahead, debate it and deny it all you want. destroy me in the media, bomb my concerts, shit on my art, throw fetuses at the stage, i don't care, it only provides me more ammunition against you. guess how big my arsenal of factoids is, go ahead. pussies. cunts. pink whiny little fucking cowards, you're the ones who are 'entitled'. you think you own everything, you think you own me. i could prove how wrong you are, but your friends would hear it before you. keep living in that delusion, keep hiding under that rock, i'll find you. oh, wait, i'm fooling you, and making you think you're that important. sorry.
i don't give a fuck what you think or say, you're responsible for suicide. be proud of yourselves. love yourselves. you're certainly worth the price tag around your neck. you think anything you say matters to me? you think i'm not going to use this pain in my heart against you, and throw it right back at you? mutherfucker, try me. try me, please. give me more ammunition, fill this arsenal with your scent.
enjoy your lives. i'll watch the credits roll.
when someone said 'you're the shit', they weren't talking about the shiny turd with the price tag on it. hope you realize that. you are the be all end all to human existence on this planet, and you know everyone else knows that. i hope that comforts you.
i already paid the highest price to be your end. the crazier this shit sounds to you, the bigger my smile gets... you just have to guess which part of my body is smiling. i have more reasons to hate you scumfucks every day. go buy another product. stuff that plastic cunt for fifteen minutes until you feel special. spend money until you feel better than me.
the sun will still set on you, my friend. consumption rules!
skankroach fuckin' snakesnacks.
fuck males.
fuck females.
cowards. clones. fakes. phonies. consumers. losers.
enjoy these screenshots. have a wonderful, openhearted gander at them. this is art.
thank you, humanity, for the exceptional kindness. i want to die.


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by the way, i have uninstalled this app, i will never use it again, and i'd honestly like to sue the creators of it, but i'm not that stupid. fuck consumers. good day, sir.