When I am gone, you will all have this to ponder and maybe realize why I did what I did. A little push in front of other kids is a very big deal, particularly when you know it's gonna happen to you every single day, every single day, every single day, you are almost relieved when it actually happens. You are always waiting, waiting for the next attack. They don't just hurt kids, they make you hurt yourself. I cant take two more years of this, and the more they call me the mad bomber, the more they are scaring themselves. They dont know what am capable of, they dont know what I can do, and then there's the sanctuary of home sweet home. So, the play, yes Mr. do-gooder, why does he even bother? Doesn't he know its already too late? Sometimes I see the way things could've been, I just wish I could be the person she thinks I am. Kids can be the most ruthless people in the world. They can just be supernaturally cruel. You've got to be a man! Be a man! BE A MAN! Sometimes you just wanna cry. Sometimes hate is the only real thing in the world. You can stop loving someone, but hate seems to go on forever. People respect hate. It speaks, it vibrates. Some people don't even need a gun to hurt you. They use words or laughter. They enjoy watching you bleed to death. They get off watching you fighting back the tears, getting a lump in your throat, blushing, wanting to cry, and they give you a name: Trashcan, pizzaface, loser, faggot, loser, weirdo, spaz, retard. You know the name does something to you. It changes who you are, it alters your molecules and one day you wake up and you look in the mirror and you don't recognize yourself anymore, because you believe them. They win you lose. You wanna cry, please leave me alone, but nobody listens, because nobody cares, because you don't have a name anymore because they took it away, and then one day they say that name and you hear something go snap. You realize what you gotta do, you gotta take back your name and you've gotta do it in front of the whole school because that's where they took your name away from you. You gotta do it so every kid will remember. This is about justice and after a while you can only think of one way: Jonesboro, Springfield, Paducah, Columbine, a gun, a bomb, instant justice, Ba-bang! But what a rush when they roll out that yellow tape, miles and miles of yellow tape. They won't have enough when I'm finished. So when these hallways are flooded with rivers of blood, when these hallways are choked with their corpses in body bags you all say oh what a tragedy, oh what a tragedy, but possibly after viewing my tapes, you wont be so quick to judge. Maybe that's why I was put in this earth. So consider this my last will and testament. - Trevor
Veit ekki hvað það er við þetta, en ég dýrka þetta.
Er úr Bang, Bang, You're Dead.
Meh.
Hugi notar vefkökur til að bæta notendaupplifun á vefsíðunni og greina umferð um hana.
Einnig hefur Hugi uppfært persónuverndarstefnu sína.