And when you think you're swimming to the surface
You're swimming straight down.
Down to the bottom.

start
sest mesicu
rok
dva roky
tri roky
ctyri roky
konec

i am irrepressible teenage angst.
here is my bitchy poem.
whine.
moan.
woe is me.
(insert typo here)
i can use
drastic S P A C I N G
to make my point
(insert computer shorthand here)
my girlfriend just dumped me.
whine.
perhaps i can
write at length about
s u i c i d e
(insert trite phrase about loneliness)
because i am ohsotouchy

sob.

so, to all you
heartbroken
struggling
adolescents out there

shut
the
fuck
up

your poetry is horrible.

pain does not always equal great art.

You tell God the Father it was a kindness you done. I know you
hurtin' and worryin', I can feel it on you, but you oughta quit on it now.

Because I want it over and done. I do. I'm tired, boss. Tired of bein' on the
road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to
be with, or tell me where we's coming from or going to, or why. Mostly I'm
tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and
hear in the world everyday. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass
in my head all the time. Can you understand?