Here we are again, could this time be the one? Lucky number 3? We have been doing this for the past two years, always during this time, something about the air, the environment, the sky, the streets, the vehicles, the hot lonely walks. Help lead me out, right out from my room, into the atmosphere, going somewhere and never coming back. I have been scratching for you, every summer. The town loser, that is what I am, I walk up and down and there is never anything. Loser, loner, weirdo, that is what I am and everyone knows it. Mocking me, making fun of me, teasing me, bothering me, judging me. I can't even function when I am around other human beings. I can't connect to you, we have nothing comparable, I don't know you, I don't care about you, and everything is reflected right back at me as it should be, because there is no other way. No, I won't miss anyone and I don't need to say by to anyone either, fuck that, i don't have anything to say to anyone, not even farewell, it may be bitterness or just emptiness, void, there is nothing there. Come for me; my body in a bag, my body six feet under and that is the last of me...forever.