118 lines
7.0 KiB
Plaintext
118 lines
7.0 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########:| THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #430 !!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....::|==========================================!!
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##:::::::| "The Glorious Fate of a Boy Who Failed !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######:::| in Life and Then Failed at Suicide, !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...::::| A Story That Proves Beyond The Shadow of !!
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##:::::::| A Doubt that Idiots Get Much More Out of !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########:| Life than any Wise Men, as they Travel !!
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HOE #430 -- by Kreid -- 1/13/99| Through Life Amazed and Bewildered" !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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I feel the need to explain something about myself, in order to
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justify my actions or attitude, or something about me which nobody seems
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to approve of lately. No matter how hard I try to avoid it, there is
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always this trend in me that I possess a strong and deep-rooted hatred
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for just about everything in this world. I feel that it is biological,
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somehow. I am a naturally hate-filled individual. However: I am not a
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violent person. I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to stay away
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from everyone. The only reason people get hurt with me is because they
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choose to care about me and decide that it's their responsibility to
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make me feel happy. This is a huge mistake. I've been alive for quite
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some time, and nobody has ever made me feel any differently about this.
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Yes, it sucks to be me. It sucks to get involved with me. So stay
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away, please.
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I think this might be irrelevant to the story I have to tell,
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but for some reason it came to my mind instantly when I thought of this.
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The story is not about hating, not at all. It's about finding myself
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completely in love with the world, momentarily. Yes, this does happen
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once in a while. I feel a bit poetic for a little while, I feel like
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life is glorious, just until I realize again that I am a complete piece
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of shit because I am human. I do feel a little sick right now from
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writing that. Yes, I am human, I must keep reminding myself, I must
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come to terms with it, as disgusting as it sounds to me. The truth is
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always disgusting.
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Now, some people who are like me have to use drugs to
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momentarily fall in love with the world. I think this is the right way
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to get along with life if you're like me, but I would hate to delude
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myself like that. I just do it, most of the time, by coming very, very,
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close to death, which is what some drugs do to you anyway. So it's a
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similar experience, just probably more real and more complicated for me,
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the non-drug user, I think. But that's what happened three nights ago
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when I found myself in love with the world. Let me explain what
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happened.
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What was happening when I realized that I was in love with the
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world is that I was driving in my car, down this long highway, at
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around 4:00 A.M. I must have been going about thirty miles per hour, and
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I was probably taking up about three lanes, the way I was driving. I
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was really fucking tired, to the point where I wasn't even falling
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asleep at the wheel anymore; I was waking up at the wheel, every couple
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minutes. Why I wasn't arrested that night, I have no idea. But I made
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it home, after driving for about two hours in this fashion. I was quite
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a bit amazed. So what I did I do when I got home? I celebrated, of
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course. I decided to commit suicide.
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I ran upstairs to the bathroom and poured some pills down my
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throat. Dramamine. It was fucking disgusting. I ate twenty-two of
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them, only stopping after that many because I was on the verge of puking
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my guts out. The ingestion of chemicals like this is too often even
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more unpleasant than the chemicals' eventual assault on the body. The
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fucking Dramamine pills dissolve in your mouth too quickly, you can't
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even down them fast enough with a glass of water. You just get this
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powdered medicine shit all over your mouth and tongue, and then the
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little fuckers get caught in your throat and you have to try to bring
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them up again just so you can swallow them, again. A most unpleasant
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experience.
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I was quite prepared to die, though. I went right over to my bed
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and waited for the stomachache to go away, which it did in about five
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minutes. From then on it was just a waiting game. Wait for the drugs
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to take effect and off you. I felt like I was going to pass out, which
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pissed me off since it was a pretty pansy way to die, in your sleep,
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that is.
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So I got up, which was quite difficult for me, being that the
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gravity in the room had increased by about six hundredfold. But I
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managed to put one leg in front of the other and stumble about my room
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well enough to get to the two-liter bottle of cola I had sitting on my
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bookshelf. I picked it up, and started pouring it down my throat. It
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took me about five gulps to down the whole thing, then I threw it on the
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floor. Then I just let my legs go from underneath me, and I hit the
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floor too, right next to the big plastic bottle. I wasn't going to pass
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out, though. I got the feeling that I was really going to have to piss
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soon, and that was a shitty thought, because I didn't want to flush the
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drugs out of my system or anything. I just held it in. I rested there
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on the floor for about half an hour before I felt what I perceived to be
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death. I was completely paralyzed on my floor, and I got the feeling
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that reality was just about ceasing to exist for me. Looking around my
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room, seeing it from the ground up, I developed quite a distrust for
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what my eyes were putting in front of me. For example, I had this idea
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that there was a Picasso on my wall, and it took me about 15 minutes of
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staring at it to realize that the painting didn't even exist. A strange
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effect, I thought. I've done a lot of illicit substances before and I've
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never quite left reality to the degree I did that night.
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So I kept waiting to see the grim reaper, or my grandmother, or
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something telling me I had finally bit the dust. Of course, it never
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happened, as you know, I'm not quite dead right now, unfortunately. The
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fucking Dramamine pills did absolutely nothing for ending my life. All
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I can see that they did is they gave me this intense experience and
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probably left me with about eight ulcers. Anyway, I know I said drugs
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just wouldn't do it for me, but that was sort of a half-lie. 18
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Dramamine pills made me completely in love with the world. Momentarily.
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It was a horrible fucking experience, my stomach hurts just thinking
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about it. Every moment of it I just wanted to die or come back to
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reality, but I was in that haze for what could easily have been an
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eternity. But, eons later, I have awakened, and I am enlightened.
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Totally at peace with myself. And it is for this reason that I am
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writing this note to you. Now I must be dismissed, I have an
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engagement with the medicine cabinet.
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Goodbye!
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #430, WRITTEN BY: KREID - 1/13/99 !!
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