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         somehow, I can't get into an entr0pic mood tonight.  it's a 
         school night.  they oppress me, you know.  my school.  that 
        place is a wasteland.  hell, I don't want to go there anymore, 
         since there's no challenge, they're erasing my mind, erasing 
        all creativity I might have, anything, so I become like them, 
        it's their simple plan.  very simple, no?  I think so.  I grow 
        up, get a desk job, be like my father.  happyhappy.  I have a 
        family then, too.  with about 3 kids; maybe an older boy, then 
          a girl, and then another boy or girl.  the sex of the last 
            child doesn't really matter to me, U know?  here I am, 
        deteriorating again.  I'm going 2 say "2" instead of "to", and 
        "U" instead of "you", and "B" instead of "be".  I don't want 2 
         bother with this schitt.  I should go do my schitty homework 
       that they give me 2 dull all the senses in my mind.  why should 
         I have time 2 myself, 2 think?  then I might rebel!  and we 
         can't have that.  I mean, I might do something like write a 
        file like this, which might actually make someone think about 
        their life, and what it's like, and why they bother living in 
        the real_world, in the real_life, where it's all at.  they're 
        all just bricks in the wall, I don't like 2 quote floyd since 
         I don't listen 2 them, but they had a real point there with 
         their song.  we all are just pawns . . . just slaves 2 them.  
            they will turn us in2 mr.businessman, mrs.businessman, 
        ms.businessman.  in our desks, all with suits on that hide our 
        body, the way we look and feel will B shielded from everyone, 
         but noone will care since their feelings will B shielded 2.  
       the future, live it.  choke and enjoy.  creativity here will go 
          in2 a state of entropy, and deteriorate.  I just hope that 
         their blank minds and faces and lives will deteriorate B4 we 
        all fall victim and become those of blank faces and minds and 
        lives.  ghod have mercy on their empty souls.  what if I died, 
         and noone ever read this?  is this a suicide note, 2 B found 
        when the smell forces them 2 come up and look at the computer 
        and see what is on the screen and think 'oh the poor child he 
         could have grown up 2 B just like his father.'  but I might 
          just take an X-acto knife 2 my wrists <across for hospital 
       down for death> and they would find this and think why and they 
              wouldn't understand the significance of this file.  


                     "did not find you"  -my text editor


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