=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= spew ---- go ahead. piss me off. it doesn't matter in this world of pig swill and monkey shit. people like to fuck with me, and i admit that i am used to it, so i let them. and then i end up in the state i am in now, the thought of a slick shiny razor in my hand, and the feeling of a cool-clean slice through the soft flesh of my arm. the rage is building, and there is no outlet. i am drunk and hateful. i called up the man i love and told him all the things that i hate about him. i want to fuck someone and hurt them, love them and leave them. i want to tell someone that they aren't deserving of the oxygen that flows in their blood. i want to kick a puppy and listen to it yelp. i want to snap the neck of a cat and see the bone extrude from its neck. i want to break shit, fuck shit up, steal, lie, cheat, hate. instead i sit here. i sit here with wine and a keyboard (don't try this at home kids!) wanting to beat myself up for the inconsiderate bullshit of others. i watch tears hit the 'Q' key and i smile, thinking of the years of smeared ink on paper that has been my life. i have hundreds of pages full of emptiness, and i want to hurt people for what has been done to me. i love you, he lied. they all do. stream of consciousness bullshit think i am an artist crap. this is what fuck is about, the raw hatred you feel when you see a 10 gallon hat and shiny rattlesnake boots connected to a beautiful woman that you want to love forever. all i want is to kiss the eyes of someone who has never known tenderness, make love to someone who has never known love, say a kind word to someone who needs to hear it.. and i am rewarded with coldness, ignorance, and stupidity. fuck all of them. the world isn't worth the ton of pain on the shoulders of each one of us. hatred is my new game, and the heat of the sun can never match the flame of my wrath. i hate everyone now, because no one wants to do for me what i want to do for them. martyrdom grows tired at dawn. it is cold in here, where my soul lives. i beg silently for someone to caress the worn places. fuck life, fuck love. it doesn't exist. coldness is where it's at, and love is game you play so that an orgasm isn't friends with Guilt. you could say i am bitter, but the truth is that i am an angel who has been torn with the whip of hatred one time too often. i don't know what all of this means. all i know is that in the face of my ex-lovers i see the grim reaper, and that in the mirror all i can find is a worn tiredness that doesn't belong in the eyes of a 22 year old woman. i want someone to love my complexity, find beauty in my pain. but they all want to eradicate the infection, and i sit here alone, alone, forever alone, and i just want to hurt them all. tears find a home in my soul. fuck you. demonika =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". If you do not have FTP access and would like back = = issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = AnonFTP FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK = = FTP.SEKURITY.ORG/pub/zines/fucked.up.college.kids = = FTP.GIGA.OR.AT/pub/hackers/zines/FUCK = = FTP.ETEXT.ORG/pub/Zines/FUCK = = WWW http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho = = http://www.reps.net/~krypt/fuck.html = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=