It's time I turn over a new leaf, she says. With vigorous thoughts streaming through her mind like random party invitations to people she doesn't know, but wants to know, she lurks through the darkness in search for a new blood rush. And so, she says, this is all I have. This is all I need, but I WANT more. I guess you can call her selfish and maybe a little irrational, but does she listen? Does she care? Will she come to her senses and live the all-American lifestyle her founding fathers have built for her and accept what she is: a peasant caught in a spiral of repetition? No, she will be more than that. She won't live to your standards. This, my friends, is her calling. A Suicide Girl. A photographer. A journalist. A tattoo artist. She will be everything you thought would be fun and will break boundaries.

It's not a fashion statement, this is a fucking epidemic my friends. Escape the genocides that you're brainwashed to believe you're there to follow as a routine. There is no routine. I love waking up everyday and letting my mind wander into new dimensions. I masturbate to the thought of being above the rest, to start a new revolution. Do I care to be a 'motivational speaker'? Nope. I'm simply here to tell the entire world that I won't live by the book of good deeds. I'll admit, I'm a fucking horrible person who is selfish enough to say "FUCK YOU" to those with problems concerning money, fame, politics, and death. Those things are no longer my problem. I'm no longer your problem. We're all but only flesh and bones, but with enough intelligence to commute in a *more free* environment and colony. You're not my president Mr. Bush. You don't represent me anymore, you sheisty government system. Fuck off to those who try to hold me back and I wish the plague upon your household. Let me breathe for once. Let me have my way. I'll never let you hold me down again.

It's time I turn over a new leaf, she says. With vigorous thoughts streaming through her mind like random party invitations to people she doesn't know, but wants to know, she lurks through the darkness in search for a new blood rush. And so, she says, this is all I have. This is all I need, but I WANT more. I guess you can call her selfish and maybe a little irrational, but does she listen? Does she care? Will she come to her senses and live the all-American lifestyle her founding fathers have built for her and accept what she is: a peasant caught in a spiral of repetition? No, she will be more than that. She won't live to your standards. This, my friends, is her calling. A Suicide Girl. A photographer. A journalist. A tattoo artist. She will be everything you thought would be fun and will break boundaries.

It's not a fashion statement, this is a fucking epidemic my friends. Escape the genocides that you're brainwashed to believe you're there to follow as a routine. There is no routine. I love waking up everyday and letting my mind wander into new dimensions. I masturbate to the thought of being above the rest, to start a new revolution. Do I care to be a 'motivational speaker'? Nope. I'm simply here to tell the entire world that I won't live by the book of good deeds. I'll admit, I'm a fucking horrible person who is selfish enough to say "FUCK YOU" to those with problems concerning money, fame, politics, and death. Those things are no longer my problem. I'm no longer your problem. We're all but only flesh and bones, but with enough intelligence to commute in a *more free* environment and colony. You're not my president Mr. Bush. You don't represent me anymore, you sheisty government system. Fuck off to those who try to hold me back and I wish the plague upon your household. Let me breathe for once. Let me have my way. I'll never let you hold me down again.