I don't know why I want to publish this

I've been thinking lately that it's really stupid for me to do all this writing. It's all about trying to get approval and sympathy from someone. It's embarrassing. I just re-read an email I sent to a Christian last night, and I was so proud of such excellent writing that I thought, "I should publish that!" But really, who gives a shit. No one cares. No one can care. Everyone has their own shit to deal with. Still, I'm publishing it, just because it sounds cool and matches my mood.

...I will slam shut all of your rhetorical escape routes, and corner you to make you bring out the savage teeth of your truth. I am sick of the dodging and the evasion. I want to know why you think you have something, and if you do have something I want to know what it is, and I'm willing to rip it out of you intellectually if you make me.

I am going to hell. That makes me desperate and amoral. I have no sympathy for you whatsoever. Even if I had some sort of mental power over you and could drive you mad until you tell me, your pain would still be less than mine, because yours would end with your death, and you'd be with god in bliss.

Don't tell me to eat the bones and rinds that have fallen off your rich table up there in your warm mansion in front of the fireplace, while I sit out in the cold shivering. Don't yell out your window at me in the street and tell me to eat cake. I want the real stuff.