18

I hate my life but I also kind of love it. The love/hate balance changes every day. I hate my life when I hate the world, this world in which my life happens, so when I see a vulgar hamburger commercial, or a YouTube commenter telling little singing girls to kill themselves, I sink and everything becomes black and grey and I lose my ability to breathe, and then I sleep for 10 hours and, perhaps, suddenly, the new day is something completely different, something breathtakingly beautiful, and suddenly I’m full of hope and excitement, full of trust – suddenly I know that my dreams will come true, I know it, I know it, and for that one day I love hating my life, but at the same time I know that the day will end, and sooner or later I see a hamburger commercial and I find myself in that huge disgusting arsehole again and then there’s absolutely nothing to love about hating my life.

The night comes and the night goes and it comes and it goes, comes and goes, comes and goes, please stop torturing me.

Being alone all the time isn’t healthy. It’s actually very dangerous. When you’re completely alone with your brutal ideas and unbearable lust, your brutal ideas can actually become something real – that’s what happened to all those kids who decided to kill their peers, that’s what happened to me. This is my brutal idea. I – have – no – plan – B. This room and these words are all that I have, and if this dream dies, I will die with it.

But it’s so difficult. I want to die.

No, no, no, I don’t want to die, I just want to be loved, I want someone to love me, I want someone to look at me, I want to give hope, hope, hope, I want to be important to someone, I want to cry, I want to laugh, I want to fly, but I need someone, I NEED A PARTNER IN CRIME, a partner in crime who understands me, who understands WHAT I COULD BE and nods with burning eyes when I tell them WHAT I WANT TO BE, I want you to follow me wherever I go, I want you to burn with me, I want to be something crucial to you, I want to be crucial, I want to live after death, I want to be the one to START A REBELLION, I want to reach all the clumsy depressed losers and weirdos in their dark rooms, I want to reach them and WAKE them and give them HOPE, I want to give them TRUST, I want to set them on FIRE, I want them to know that in the end the day will beat the night, that in the end the day wins, that in the end all the losers and weirdos and hopeless bitter unruly girls and hopeless bitter unruly boys, and suffering cows, and girls that are too loud and boys that are too quiet, and whales, and angry crazy people who dance alone in the dark wearing ugly clothes will win – that in the end WE will win.

So stop now. I give you this fire. I give you my hand, now grab it and never let go. We will win.