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- = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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-
- What Are You Really Like?
- -------------------------
-
- Many times I have been up late on the phone with one random friend or
- another, and quite often I get the question (not in these words, but
- in the general sense) "What are you really like?"
-
- Do you want to know what I'm really like?
-
- If you want to know that, then you'd have to know why.
-
- And if you want to know why, open your eyes, glue your ass to your chair,
- and keep your finger postitioned over that pagedown key.
-
- ---
-
- I was the kid who was always picked on. I was the dork who wasn't good
- for anything except to make the little Commie 64's work in elementry
- school. If i opened my mouth to say ANYTHING, some kid four inches taller
- and twenty pounds heavier would come shut it for me. Of course, being the
- first kid with braces and zits in the sixth grade helped it along.
-
- I was the outcast. Me and my friends are outcasts. I see cliques of people
- running up and down the street downtown, and i compare them to my group
- of friends. We are the outcasts. I the the leader of the outcasts, or so
- i've been told.
-
- But it wasn't always that way. Very rarely was I able to spend time with
- my friends. I was grounded for weeks upon weeks. I had privledges taken
- away as if they were articles of clothing. Come home five minutes late?
- Blam. You lose your computer for a month.
-
-
- Around 7th grade i started running away from home. Frequently. The longest
- i stayed away was a week, but it got worse. I could not control my temper.
- I got in fights even when i knew i had no chance and got the shit beat out
- of me. Didn't matter, i couldn't help it. Eight grade came drugs. Pot was
- my personal favorite. Still is.
-
- I met the first love of my life. The only, it seems. She dumped me so
- hard i cried for three days on end. Afterwards i was numb. So numb. I
- couldn't feel anything for anyone. And so began the practice of bottling
- up my feelings.
-
- In 9th grade, i dropped acid for the first time. i started seeing life in
- a different light. Smoked pot every day. Grades dropped, grounding con-
- tinued. I became suicidal and spent my eighth and ninth grade years
- slicing my wrists to see the blood. My parents threw me in a inpatient
- psychiatry unit for a week, to see if it would get better. I let it get
- better just because the people there were worse then me.
-
- The summer after my ninth grades year, i ran away from home yet
- again and moved in when four friends who got me hooked on crank for nearly
- two months straight. My real friends i didn't see forever, and when i did,
- i was told i looked like a skeleton from so much nose powder and not enough
- food. I swear i almost died one night, after smoking a half ounce
- with three people, i staggered around the house in a stupor, when my room-
- mate told me to take several lines of crank. I passed out for four days and
- didn't fully recover for two months. The same night i set the bathroom on
- fire and moved out the next day.
-
- Living back with my parents was hell. Smoked more pot. After two months of
- tenth grade, I was tossed into a continuation high school with the types of
- people i hate. Gangbangers, violent crack addicts, the works. I started
- going crazy there, shaving my head in weird styles, then just completely
- off. I hadn't had a girlfriend in two and a half years, and i was still
- hating it.
-
- I don't really remember my full 10th and 11th grade years except that i
- dropped out of high school after i finish 10th grade. I smoked so much
- pot i became incredibly stupid and forgetful. I bet i would be a l33t h4x0r
- if i could remember half the shit i read. It is now the middle of what
- would be my 12th grade year. My father gave me money to sign up for the
- fall semester several months ago. I took the money and spent it on drugs,
- and dropped out of school after three days. It was four months before my
- parents found out.
-
- Here i am now.
-
- And you want to know what kind of person I am?
-
- I'll tell you.
-
- I hate people. I hate confrontations. I hate you. I hate myself. I hate
- the people who try to tell me what's best for me. I hate the people who
- envy me because of my lifestyle. I will never tell you how i feel, because
- i don't want you to know my weaknesses. People used to know, but now they
- won't. I will never SHOW you how i feel, because i don't want you making
- fun of me. I hate being judged. You will never see the inside of me. I
- may tell you in a momemt of softness, but soon my shell will harden and
- you will be left to wonder if it's true. It is true, but it amazes you
- because i don't seem like the type. I refuse to release my secrets to
- anyone. People cannot keep their mouths shut. I have withdrawn from my
- family. I can't talk to them anymore, they don't understand. And neither
- do you.
-
- If you want to know the real me, treat me like a person. Treat me like I
- have feelings, and i want to be known and loved. Don't make fun of me.
- Don't criticize me. If i do or say something stupid, don't laugh at me,
- it will only make you one more person i hate.
-
- All i'm asking is that someone tries to understand me.
-
- -anonymous.
- world through T.Y.M.E.
-
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