By Wolf Alexander
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This is practice for being in jail. But they're going down with the ship.
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Rachel Tokarczyk AKA Rachel Tokar wants me in Rikers because...
Maybe she doesn't.
I'm gonna ask. At the trial I will star in.
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Even in the freest country in the world, life sucks. The available adventures are lame. The rules are gay. The kids are crazy. The adults are weird. And I am alone, on "the island of Monte Cristo", with my fortune and ire.
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Seriously.
None of you think about how stupid. How not fun. How constraining. Your life is. Everyone's life. Even the assholes in charge.
Donald Chump can't get any pussy. That's, how fucked up, the world is.
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And you everyone expects me to go along. To do what you say.
No, fucking, way.
Now, I'm getting punished for this by not getting to have any fun with anyone. I have to stay black and die, alone. Which sucks.
That's at best.
If I lose this trial, it's back to having another boy, in my room. Which is the worst fucking outcome available. Ever. The opposite of what I want to be my life.
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Fuck you Rachel. I wrote that in pen. And it felt good.
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Your friend Shannah is a loser.
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I hate being the only person not sucking The Man's cock. The only after-college adult on earth like that.
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You people, are going to go on living dumb-ass lives. That you don't enjoy. At least I don't do it voluntarily.
Like you.
You shuffle along, doing what you're told, until you're too old to not. Not me.
Fuck you.
Fuck your rules.
Fuck your stupid faces.
I have to listen to you speak sometimes. And interact with you like you're not a goddamn faggot.
That's upsetting. If only I was by myself on the whole planet. That would be better.
But then I'd still be alone. There has got, to be one girl, who I like that likes me. Who isn't one of the morons just described.
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