How could you have been so stupid.
You could have had every little shred of whatever you wanted to take here here home on the planet and yet you leaped with so much grace into a big old puddle of gasoline. Keep breathing keep breathing but listen. When you hear the strike of the match you just so graciously wet yourself because of god knows what. I don't know what, I wasn't there, I can't gather your ashes and read your story. Point is. You pissed yourself, out of fear, out of excitement, out of the backlash of that severe opium trip you fell through equally as gracefully earlier. Stop being so thick, but it's too late to be mad now. No no not yet. No one can bring you back from the dead because a body can't breath or talk or tell you how to bring them back after gaining infinite knowledge in the afterlife. No one's bringing you back stop complaining you're a corpse.
Where where where did I put it. Where did I put it now I can't find it. You've been scratching around and searching around for the one thing the last thing the only thing to bring you out of this stupid little state and you can't find it. Can't find release from all of these little inconviniences, can't stop saying the wrong thing. Do you really want to go back in time and fix every little thing that you every did wrong? Kill yourself. Do you want a time machine? Jump off a cliff. Do you want to love your mother more? Kill yourself. Have you ever embarassed yourself in front of thousands of people and now you feel bad about.
Why bother moving on when you could always just bloop of the face of the earth. Is there something holding you back? Put your face on the ground with all the bodies, smell the gasoline, take a deep breath. Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. There it is, the strike of a match and you're just another cider in the flame taking you to a better place. How could you be so stupid so naive so stupid stupid wrong. But it's too late to be mad. Not time not time yet. I can't be mad while you're laying there with your face down because it's hard to break something already so clearly so incredibly broken. But wait, when you meet god, find out how to make a time machine and go back before everything went downhill. There's the answer.
Oh please please please please please please just get it over with so I can stop stop stop wait. I don't want to stop. Here I am match book in hand and I can give you all over to what you want to be given to but I won't. Don't kill yourself. How can you be so stupid stupid stupid. This black field's your life so get up and play fucking ball. Now that you're all soiled and feeling quite down hearted you're going to have to get up and do something with yourselves because I'm not about to honestly and truly be the one to end it for you. You've done it again, all of you, just gone and made yourselves look stupid stupid stupid.
Such a sin really that I'm so insensitive and that I'm out to seriously hurt everyone and everything because I just want to feel pain, I just want to see pain I just want you to know that I want to see your anguish. Tell me all about and please let me bring you to my black black field. Lay face down while I make you realize some things and I push you over the edge of your own cliff and the bring you back. I'll pull the trigger, I'll push you, I'll hang the nuse, I'll call the squad to attention, I'll spike the drink with cyanide so why wait and JUST KILL YOUSELF.