misstree can't let it out, gotta clench teeth to match shoulders that break bricks, jot to keep the jangly jumpiness hidden because everyone's tight, but

MY GOD what are you fuckers doing to me? tomorrow, do you hear me? tomorrow i have to get back, because the next day i have to pee in a cup to prove that i'm employable, tomorrow i'm supposed to be able to saddle up and flee this fucked up shit for a day, sick parents and not my house, tomorrow i fly, but my fucking chariot's a bastard and tomorrow's all wrong and WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME? "was i not always a good little boy? i was never an upstart and never pulled the wings off of flies." so WHAT? even if i take the train, i'm left with no car, none, no way to go to the appointment, no way to get around for either my boy or i, i'm SCREWED. you bastards, treat you good and you fuck me.

fine. fuck me. do it hard and unlubed. i'll find a way, and owe someone a chunk of a soul that doesn't have much left to it. NONE FOR YOU. crotchety fucks.

i hate gods. disloyal fucks.
what's it to you?
who go