HA!
The writer of this…eh…blog, she's not really someone capable of reporting any happening or by-chance existence of anything, or anyone, as just that: by chance.
Now, let ME tell you about me. I am Arcade… (Yeah, believe it or not, she got the name right)
Who am I? We'll find out, now wont we?
Why am I?
You will stand away, miles away, point and whisper, curse and admire, all the time wishing you were me.
My being the way I am is essential for you to feel good about yourself. How else will you justify your being, your every breath? You cannot say aloud that you yearn for me, to be me. So instead you say I disgust you. I offend the very essence of society and decent brotherhood.
Am I really that bad? Am I that bad when you think of me, when you're all alone? Am I that bad when you think no one is looking? Am I really that bad when you think no one can hear your thoughts?
Am I worth your time? Am I really worth your time? Is my body the most outrageous, unjust, law-less, cruel and anti-human thing out there, on the streets, so that it requires so much of your passion and rightful, justified anger?
You disgust me.
The whole lot of you spineless, lowly cowards crawling all over this earth in the wake of what was once called human. You, who with your dirty houses and dirty hearts, scoff and snigger at others' dirt.
Don't get me wrong people; I am not anti-social at all. And ladies, you're truly beautiful, you know. It is not every young man who is honored by the unblinking attention of so many fine women all the time. I kiss your hand, I bow to you.
Wait, then again, that really isn't my style. Ah, what the heck…
Pardon my mood swings. I am, after all, channeling my great wisdom through the hands of a temperamental, juvenile girl.
*sigh* See Ya *Not that I really want to*
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