At the age of 10, I owned my first cell phone and at 12 I had my first kiss. At 16 we slept together. We used condoms and pills. We broke up when she got pregnant at the age of 18. She got married at the age of 23 and her hubby still thinks she was a virgin when they got married. I got my second Ferrari on my 23^rd birthday. It was lime green.

I wasn't the perfect student in high school. I didn't study. I didn't even go to school, but I passed. My father paid for tuitions and was an active parent at the school council. My allowance money afforded a life style that a prince would envy. I moved out when I was 20 into a shrine of my own for my friends to crash in.

From cigarettes to marijuana and from marijuana to x. Cocaine waltzed in on my 24^th birthday and still accompanies my everyday. My creativity was fertilized by the seeds of chemical addiction. I read many books, political and philosophical. I even developed my very own philosophies and posted them on an online Blog page. I said words that shook my readers' thinking. Being articulate, well-mannered, and stoned, I spoke like a true gentleman. By the age of 25, I had my own cult. We talked about politics from our own point of view and we believed we were hippies. We listened to Radiohead while discussing rebellion against society. We believed people were asleep and that we could make a change. We plotted political assassinations and ran over wild animals with our cars. We had the time of our lives. The authorities said that the road kill count went way above average during that year. They said it could only be explained to be a trademark of a cult and since they knew about us we had to get rid of the clues. I downloaded the anarchist cookbook from iMesh and we planted a bomb at the local police station. It was made out of tangerine, graphite, and a couple chemicals that a friend purchased over eBay. The explosion was small, but it killed two cops and five were injured. At that point, we freaked out. We needed more Radiohead sessions that day.

The next day I woke up alone and all my friends had gone. Later I read on the news that one of my friends strangled his father then committed suicide and another had a car accident that killed a family of five; one of which was a six months old baby. He was 21 when he did it and was also drunk. The next day I burned down my shrine and rode my feet down to the local police station that I once blew up.

You want to know if I'm guilty of my crimes? Everything I did was but a chemical reaction that began when I was 10. It began when I watched cult films and exceeded my potentials when I read more about Marxism while humoring my ears to the sounds of Radiohead. You may find me guilty, but more of my class will follow. Censorship of art and literature isn't really the answer, is it? Is it the effect of drugs because I think not? TV, perhaps?

Lock me up; set me up for public hanging. Make an example out of my death. I'll be this generation's hero and tomorrow's legendary warrior. It is all going down and you can't avoid it. You can't look away.

We branch out at 10.

Posted by Яαgιи Яαvєи on Monday, September 04, 2006 at 9/04/2006 04:38:00 PM | Permalink