Welp, just got off the phone with my dad who managed to get a 1.4 million dollar mortgage. This means that in America, he is worth more, and he can trap me, though it would be difficult as I'm a ward. Trust me, if there's a will, there's a way, however. I like the games people play. How I have to fight instead of have a life while constantly brain-damaged. I love how I can't get magical money while everyone else can, but I'm the evolutionary failure.
I'm glad I'm not allowed to feel anger or love. I love how people judge me by his Facebook and how I must be a spoiled brat. After being forced to commit crimes I couldn't turn myself in for, after trying to protect my siblings while being butchered only to watch them fall because torturing me and giving me brain damage, poisoning me, was more important than me helping others avoid ill fates as well. They could have been more productive. No excuses, right, Bjork?
Get him in a fucking mental hospital.
Just turn the world into a poverty shithole.
Enjoy. I talk to the FBI who only entraps me while I talk to him. I'm the bad one. We're both trash. No one will ever care. The millionaires like o3o and Marilyn Manson will get it on camera and laugh at me, pathetic and weak, bound but by mortal flesh -- as usual.
As I'm in a horrible mental state, I'll go talk to YouTube and spam.
There is no redemption for humanity.
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