The color of your skin doesn't matter when you must work online since nobody will hire you because you can't help to start crying and oversharing in person-to-person job interviews due to your personal history of neglect.

Your sexuality is not an issue when your body is covered in sores given of your lack of hygiene since you obsess compulsively trying to become "successful" in a world that you can't seem to grasp no matter how hard you try.

Your politics certainly are of no importance given you are not considered as a part of society ever since they last thought of you, when their day was being ruined by your last attempt to fit in even though you never had someone to teach you how, nor anyone to practice with.

Does it make sense to you not to give into the desire for attention if only for a second while going out to shoot all those people who insist in covering every wall with words of inclusion and tolerance but disgusted reject any sort of cry out for help from you?

Who do you think society is?

Would you at least sympathize with those who hate those entitled soldiers full of themselves for taking away my pitty in order for them to acquire power?

It's no fun to keep finding out how long your body can endure, after that dramatic night where you finally decided to give up and cried your hunger to sleep hoping for it to stop.

They are stealing our precious scarce pitty without paying its price of humiliation and trauma. There will never be shame over them.

There will never be a community for me.

There will be criticism for some reason as if I were trying to impress you with my artistry as opposed to puking the toxins upon whomever is willing to read just to try to stay sane, if that happens to be my current status. It's hard to tell when you have no one to compare it to.

I assume it must be so constraining to have dignity and egos to protect, or whatever. A victim is aware of the everyday decision to keep on being a piece of shit as long as he can keep from turning into another one of you, for whatever it's worth. Laughing at the irony of fleshy bags full of shit laughing at a piece of shit is a flashy escape I can't afford to reject in my insane reprehensible and unorthodox ghetto and worthless journey trough the non-existing myth of no-one's never land ever.

(fart noise) just for those seeking to showcase how much better than me they are by criticizing me. Don't make me look down on you, my neck hurts. Please be nice to me.