I hid inside my room like a fucking coward and the past 18 months flashed before me in the last eight long hours. A little less than amazing: you finally got a rise out of me. So I laughed, I cried (well, I tried, but i laughed again). See? Who the fuck needs a caricature to be their friend? It's so fucking stupid. I'm just as scared and insecure as you (maybe even X2) and i wonder what you really thought of me. An intimate friend? A loud-mouthed jerk? Or just a novelty? (and, hey, do you think i could sing this a little more out of key?) This is not an apology. It's just therapy. Because as we all know (and apparently), I don't need anybody.