Blast! I want to trample on my SIM card, hammer it, bulldoze it, drag it towards the most rocky mountainous regions of the country, hurl it away from a precipice that hangs over a tumultuous shark-infested sea, to be eaten by a fire-breathing one-eyed sea-monster, to be digested, excreted, wafted away towards a lone island where it shall be devoured by an emaciated ship-wrecked survivor who shall finally die from starvation and inadequate survival skills, his body to be incrementally covered with layers upon layers of sand, solidified, turned into rocks, to be exhumed by future vagabond similarly ship-wrecked archaeologists and then hailed as a piece of art.

The sim card that connects me to him. Gaaaaaaaaaaad. If only he could just DIIIIIEEEEEE right now I'd be crying tears of ecstasy.XP Waaaaaaah, go away! I don't want you in you life any more!X0 Why?? I don't know! That's the effing root of the fucking problem: I don't know my problem.XP

I'm going to school next sem!!!XXDDD HAAAAAAPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Mind, I'm not surefooted I can attend school--heck, can't even race up the stairs (How much more 100 steps up one effing class?? What a bloody begrudging buggery.X0); even have to take ONE HOUR EVERY GODFUCKING DAY to clean my burns, peal the crusty brown-caked sebaceous residue on the sides, lather ointments on them, then dress them, and mummify them with thick stretchy bandages.

And what about my psychotherapy, huh? I haven't been attending my sessions.XP Yes I am a very responsible suicidal bipolar schizoid.XP

My pc's still broken! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

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