Meatloaf, what an interesting name for such a good singer. My life sucks, my poetry sucks, I'm surprised I'm still alive, I should have killed myself a long time ago, I should not have let Sherry talk me out of killing myself. I should have done it as soon as I hung up the phone. Now it's too late for me to make that an option. I no longer have the will to do anything but sit here and rot, to hope that the house will catch fire and kill me. Or maybe I can clean the bathroom and drink in some bleach, that'll clean my pipes right quick. It'll clean them straight through my chest. I've always wanted to know what bleach tastes like anyways. Damn me and my big mouth. I should have never told them good-bye, I should have just killed myself and been done with it. Maybe I'll still do it, I just don't know anymore. My life has no meaning so why live if your very existance is meaningless.