282 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
282 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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guilt in three parts
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i lay in bed, watching my life revert. i revert back to my days as an
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angst ridden youth, seeking shelter in lyrics that confused the emotionally
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strong. days and nights waiting to bury myself in my own world, away
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from people. i told myself not to love or be loved because it was comfortable
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and so damn right. after high school i learned it even more. college
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taught me to question the system, question authority, and eventually strike
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out on my own in bitter resentment of the system that was supposed to
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educate me.
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then came a sudden wake up call to society. the logical side of me quickly
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realized that despite my contempt for people, being social got you a lot
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farther. sincerity was an option.
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today i remind myself of certain words that have always been a core
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part of me. the inherent understanding of a concept is interesting
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to say the least. the rational side of me says it is just a feeling,
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that there is no way a person would really know those feelings had
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society not defined them during a more impressionable stage.
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then i am reminded, "so it is with god".
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shame \'sham\ n. 1a: a painful emotion caused by
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consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety
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2a: a condition of humiliating disgrace or disrepute
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even when i can't think of what it is, i still feel shame. ever present,
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just like before a vacation, the thought of 'what did i forget'. so
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it is to my shame. i can't begin to describe how i feel when i actually
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have something to feel shame over. the inherent feeling is disconcerting
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to say the least, downright depressing on any other given day.
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-
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a day passes, and i can't think of how to express my emotion and feeling
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into text. ironic, that i write for over five years, getting compliment
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on how well i can express feeling. yet this time i can not. my guilt runs
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deep and i know it. if not for my actions, but the mere fact that music
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is lost on my ears, food tasteless. i can't describe how much i love music,
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yet it all falls on near deaf ears. then... for a rare second, and only
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that, the music hits me. that original reason i liked it comes back to
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me. i break out in tears for the inherent beauty in the voice that
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consumes me.
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truth hits me.. and it doesn't take an hour to think why. it is that
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inherent beauty i associated with someone i thought loved me that
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strikes me. god, how i have fucked up. not only in my actions, but
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in making such gross errors in assumptions.
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i find myself turning the pages to the beat of sad and depressing songs,
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reminding myself of the true meaning of certain words. i never want
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them to be lost to me. their meaning a warm solace to my cold heart.
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perhaps.. the principle parts of the ruling passion that make me
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who i am.
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guilt \'gilt\ n. 1: the fact of having committed a breach of
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conduct 2a: the state of one who has committed an offense
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b: feelings of culpability
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culpable \kel-pe-bel\ adj 1: guilty, criminal 2: meriting
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condemnation or blame
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i sing along... "how can it feel...". i wish she knew. her voice and
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words almost come close to what i feel.
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earlier tonight, i walked onto the porch to feel the rare arizona rain.
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i stopped to listen to it, machine gun rythem of beats on the concrete.
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i felt it's side affect splatter onto my legs, and i felt so alone.
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i wish i could express how close the term 'alone' felt to me, so that
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you knew it was more than a word to me. "how can it feel.." she sings.
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fuck. i know.
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mea culpa \ma-e-kul-pa\ 1: a formal acknowledgment of
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personal fault or error
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and so goes my handle. its ironic that one person just today noticed
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that my login name was 'guilt'. she acted like it was new. no.. not
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at all. it fell on me weeks before the reason she thinks I took it for.
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guilt. hell yes, like you wouldn't believe.
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remorse \ri-mo(e)rs\ 1: a gnawing distress arising from
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a sense of guilt for past wrongs
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repent \ri-'pent\ 1: to turn from sin and dedicate oneself
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to the amendment of one's life 2a: to feel regret or
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what used to be a play on words for a side joke at work, my living
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being. day in and day out, for a year or more.. looking for that
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positive change in life.
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as i child, i would read the crooked framed pictures in my grandmother's
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hallway. old pictures from the family, the coat of arms, and one poem.
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weird, that i remember certain parts, the author and more, yet I can't
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track down the full text of this poem.
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"you are not in this world to live up to my expectations,
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and I am not in this world to live up to yours..
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you are you, and i am i...."
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with guilt, comes a fundamental lack of feeling. i listen to music
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and hear dry words against dull background sound. what normally
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keeps me alive, is now whitenoise at best. i hate that feeling
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more than words can describe.
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contrition \ken-'trish-en\ : the state of being contrite
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contrite \'kan-,trit\ 1: grieving and penitent for sin
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or shortcoming
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how does one repay for one's internal conflict. if your mind sees your
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sins and can't resolve them, how do you repay. grieving for actions
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in the past, or actions lost in the prophecy of tomorrow.
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one day, i shall know resolution.
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=-=
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a recurring element of my life is the music i wrap myself in.
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people often wonder why, and it simply can't be answered in
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a few short words. i recently found myself on a long drive,
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enjoying the music. being wrapped up in it, i begin to wonder
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if that is where i get my heightened sense of guilt.
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brigid boden
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dreamt i saw you by my side, face was framed by candlelight
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held my hand against your heart, said we'd never part.
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can't you see, deep in me,
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music loud and strong, a change for me to set you free
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my love i must go on
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took my hand never let me stray
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all my fears you pushed away
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be with me was your last sigh
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now you're gone, oh how i cry
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shakespear's sister
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if this world is wearing thin
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and you're thinking of escape
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i'll go anywhere with you
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i'll do anything it takes
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but if you try to go alone
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don't think i'll understand
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do i have to go down on my knees?
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this is my 16th apology to you
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with friends like me who needs enemies
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portishead
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please couldn't you stay a while to share my grief,
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it's such a lovely day to have to always feel this way,
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and the time that i will suffer less,
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it's when i never have to wait
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after time the bitter taste,
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of innocence disintegrates,
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scattered seed, buried lives,
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histories of our disguise reborn,
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circumstance will decide
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oh, can't anybody see,
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we've got a war to fight,
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never find out way,
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regardless of what they say,
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how can it feel this wrong
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nine inch nails
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i am the hate you try to hide
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and i control you
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i take you where you want to go
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i give you all you need to know
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i drag you down i use you up
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my whole existence is flawed
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everyone i know
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goes away in the end
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you could have it all
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my empire of dirt
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i will let you down
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i will make you hurt
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tori amos
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Every finger in the room is pointing at me
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I wanna spit in their faces
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Then I get afraid what that could bring
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I got a bowling ball in my stomach
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I got a desert in my mouth
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Figures that my COURAGE would choose to sell out now.
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I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
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Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
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I've been raising up my hands
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Drive another nail in
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Why do we crucify ourselves
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Every day I crucify myself
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Nothing I do is good enough for you
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Crucify myself
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Every day I crucify myself
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And my HEART is sick of being in chains
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I gotta have my suffering
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So that I can have my cross
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ani difranco
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you put a tiny pin prick
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in my big red balloon
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and as i slowly start to exhale
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that's when you leave the room
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everything i do is judged
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and they mostly get it wrong
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but oh well
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'cuz the bathroom mirror had not budged
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artificial joy club
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set me up then stomp me, you're sick & beautiful
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squeeze me like your lemon, then mix with alcohol
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shake me hard then down me, you're sick & beautiful
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switchblade symphony
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can you see me going down
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i am screaming out loud
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and the fear of god is in me now
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dissolve
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Weeks later I wonder why I listen to these words. Perhaps it
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is because of how beautiful the music that flows with these words
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is. Or maybe they play off each other to make it so appealing.
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Doesn't matter.
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As long as it feeds the emotions driving me onward in life.
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mea_culpa
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05/28/98
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ps: if you read this and are saying to yourself, "i know why he
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wrote this", think again. you don't know me. at all. read the date
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most of this was written on.
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions =
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= Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) =
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= To receive new issues through mail, mail majordomo@attrition.org with =
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= "subscribe fuck". If you do not have FTP access and would like back =
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= issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. =
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= AnonFTP FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK =
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= FTP.DTO.NET /pub/zines/fuck =
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= FTP.ETEXT.ORG/pub/Zines/FUCK =
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= WWW http://www.attrition.org/~fuck =
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= http://www.reps.net/~krypt/fuck.html =
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= http://aomt.netmegs.com/fuck =
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= (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. =
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