The Conclusion
In an orgy of self-pity a man can commit things he believes imperative. They succumb to the fabricated sensations of pleasure galore, conceived by the overindulgence of gluttony and self-physiological-gratification. Red plonk, cigarettes, and cake are all that is needed in this symphony of artistic contempt. Stimulating intoxication feeds on the self-pitying demoralized sloths, and so the wretched misery surges. Depression is the product of an epiphany, there is no paranoia about being alone in this godforsaken world, for you are alone. You see depression is not a mental illness, sometimes it’s just a light in a room best kept in the dark.
Welcome to RandomBoo.com, home of self-eradicating gluttony and feigned psychological-gratification. Get some red plonk, cigarettes, and some cake and succumb yourself to the fabricated sensations of pleasure galore. Don’t squander thoughts on hangovers, diets, and personal hygiene. Spend your days instead intoxicated and aggressive. Then die young of an overdose in a hotel room surrounded by prostitutes, in a poetic symphony of self-pity and artistic contempt. Label every man, woman, and child a parasitic monkey, shout "how dare you", spit out your fag in disgust, slam a door, and then leave a comment on my website, thank you.
See you in the gutter...