Chapter III

Woke up to another day in this hellhole. My mind [bad word] up my soul.
Sitting in this rubber cell of mine with nothing sharp whatsoever.
But the mind is as good as any knife that cuts to the bone.
I am a divine interception.
Cut as deep as my everlasting pain. Blood flowing.
This crappy human medicine wont cure me. I am immune to it.
My great salvation lies within this suicidal mind of mine.
Join me in this wicked state of suicide.
Do you feel like cutting your wrist?
Do you have the feeling that you want to butcher somebody?
Do you want to see blood and deep scar wounds.
Do you want to die or have a near death experience.
Then try my cure.
Take a bottle of Absinthe and a handfull of razorblades.
Empty the bottle and I promise you will wake up with either
Stab wounds or another persons blood all over you
You scum! Kill yourself!!!