you brought it upon yourselves. it's your fault you're dead, when you were alive you were an embarrassment - always iso something else to get you through your semi-charmed kind of life. you were a sheltered sex fiend, you were a sheltered human being because nudity was "da bomb" and because you couldn't feel close to other human beings without bedding them. the limited have aids. aids takes the lives of question marks. q. when you were young and your pleasure depended on the attention of your mother, your mentality was not limited - you were just a giggling and clapping small child. as you grew, though, something didn't click...now it's ejaculate, giggle, clap. then you die in the name of "fun," and we have the audacity to throw a pity party. madonna says, "poor is the man whose pleasure depends on the permission of another," but, in this case, madylan says, "dead is the man whose pleasure depends on the involvement of another". get a life, eh? quit relying, start justifying. yourself in the name of competency...maturity. oh, sorry, you'll always be "young at heart".



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