I'm terribly disgusted with my life... bored to no end... the boy I thought he cares for me and is a real friend had dropped me... No Holocaust is greater than mine... I just don't feel I exist... my loneliness and the rage and hatred it generates within my limbs are bottomless...
I have a yearning deep in my heart to relate, to be listened to in truth. Not to listen, at least not to-day, not as long as this deafening noise inside me wrecks havoc...
Don't tell me I should write a blog diary. What do you think I've been doing for the last years - I've been hanging my chaos to dry out for all the blogosphere neighbors eyes and ears to see and listen: Oh World, be my Savior, Listen to me, Don't listen to those whimpering Jews and their Boring Holocaust Petty Stories. Enough Is Enough! It's my turn now!
Pity Me! Admire Me! Me! Me! Me!
Love Me. Me, only Me, Me, Me, La-la-la...
Save me from Myself, Me! Me!
You don't want to listen? I'll force my tiny oceanic disappointments down your ears and throat. I'll disperse my blind fury from the top of BlogCritics.
Oh, BlogCritics, BlogCritics, Tell me, Who if not Me is the most you-name-it in the whole empty world?
Don't get me wrong: My present love is Arik Sharon' body guard, and that vast.