I'd rather life in an imoral world, fucked up 'till its top, but being in here, but being this. Fuck it. Fuck it all, fuck them all. Fuck normality. Where's the sweat? The blood? Fuck my imaginary life, with my imaginary perfect husband and my bastard children and high society meets. Fuck this crowd intoning my bogus name. I want pain and booze and drugs and thrill and bare feets and undressed souls and wearing out skeletons and whimpers and loud, loud music, so fucking loud that hurt my ears and knife my bosom, and long hair and tight clothes and vomit and honesty. I want to be alive.

Even if just for once.