Dear God, My Heavenly Father, You'd like me to die wouldn't you God? All I am to you is a waste of precious dust. You were to busy trying to make everyone else look beautiful, that you did a half-assed job on me. And 29 years later, you're ashamed of the job you did. And now you're sending everyone that you possibly can and having them try and encourage me to kill myself. You want them to encourage me to rid myself from the face of this planet, because you're malcontent with the poor job you did. But you're perfect God. You never do anything wrong, you take you're time crafting every single human being on this planet. So the only explanation for my disfigurement is the fact that you did this on purpose. You didn't want me to be loved. YOU WANTED ME TO BE THROWN AWAY BY MY FAMILY, AND SPAT ON BY EVERY SINGLE HUMAN BEING THAT SEES ME! YOU WANT ME TO KILL MYSELF DON'T YOU GOD! ANSWER ME YOU SON OF A BITCH! ANSWER ME! Well I'm not gonna give your punk ass the satisfaction. I'll keep on taking these bumps and bruises, and use that pain to... heh... well you'll see. Amen. See you soon!

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