Jean's Song

To Whoever This Crumpled Up Piece of Shit May Concern

I've always been told life was something to treasure, but when we walk around like drones wired to the concept that anything we deem unacceptable to society's standards is inferior, then why pretend like I even have a chance at competing? Why throw on a disguise to mask what society's afraid of? Why treasure something that's already been stolen from me?

I'm sick of pretending to be wanted and accepted on this sad excuse of an inhabited rock.

Mom, this isn't your fault. You've tried and failed to raise a son you didn't want in the first place. You should be happy a weight has been lifted from your plastic shoulders.

Dad, fucking grow a pair you piece of shit. You can't just ignore the fact that I ever existed because I wasn't in the forecast.

Don't either of you dare weep over me when I'm gone, dry your selfish eyes. I do not want to be remembered as the dear son you loved and cherished when I pass, when all I was was a welfare check when I was alive.

To the school board and their band of demented circus monkeys who think flinging their shit at everyone is fundamental to education, I'm sorry I'm not sorrier. Thank you for singlehandedly ignoring every plea and cry I threw at you. Don't mention my memorial over the intercom.

To the student body who so self righteously ignored my existence, fuck you all. Fuck every single one of you that thinks you're going to pretend you knew me when I'm gone. All you organ sacks were good for is pushing me 6ft under. Your actions hurt far worse than any words or fists possibly could, because you purposely failed to acknowledge my existence. I hope none of you ever have to face such cruelty in your putrid existences, because I don't fancy seeing any of your faces wherever I'm going.

To my dear tormentors, take your incestuous sack of whatever the fuck and kindly burn in hell.

Eren Goddamn Jaegar, You better move on quick. You better go on to marry Armin because we all know he's the best medicine there is out there for your crazy ass. Do me a favor and forget I ever existed. Don't remember my face. Don't remember my name. Burn all my band shirts (except for my Blink-182 shirt, please make sure I'm wearing that under whatever they put on me). Also, DJ my funeral so it isn't entirely a suck fest, no one wants to hear summertime sadness blared over the shit church speakers because I decided to off myself. (I'm entrusting you with this dick twat.) And even though I could never admit it out loud, I love you man. Thank you for damn near being the only thing that tethered me to this life.

To the people I considered friends, I'm sorry I wasn't as strong as you thought I was.

One last thing before I go, I don't want to be known as the antisocial weird kid with the stupid hair. I don't want to be a face without a name anymore...

I just want to be Jean.