Sitting at home alone with (too much) time on Your hands, You decide to make others feel some pain (after all, they seem to like it-crying all their agony and rage out on the internet, trying to forget, and getting praised for their heartache) because You want to .make.some.kind.of.statement. to the people they're fooling with their /bullshit/ "Poetry" (they're the reason geniuses like You get ignored). Of course, You're not cyber-stalking them or anything (following them around to see who they know-who have they infected with their woe) You're just checking to see that their disease is contained (because wouldn't it be horrible-people consoling them) and You squint at Your computer, trying to get some message from their work, peeking behind the italics covering the screen ("they need to filter this crap") and, of course, You're so obsessed with how much THEY SUCK (they must, because You don't write like this(and we all know how AWESOME You are)) that You don't even notice the coded messages or the emphasis they seem to put on certain words (could they really be trying to make things sTaNd OuT?) because You don't have time (oh, what a laugh) to ponder such things. The finishing touch-making a NEW PENNAME, trying to disguise Your i.d.e.n.t.i.t.y. so "they" (the enemy) can't try and prove You wrong (why bother with them trying to defend themselves-it's no fun if they fight back) again, and You KNOW they'd have supporters ("I can't believe people are falling for their b.u.l.l.s.h.i.t") because they.always.do. (and even though You can't be the only one pissed off at this "Terrible Trio", You may not get the same encouragement).
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Oh darling, why are you hiding? Alice wants you to come out and play.