I'm one in a million million. I'm a drop in a sea of faces. I'm just another one walking down the street. I've been following you. I've been watching you. If you said you saw me any one time, any one place, I'd know for sure that you were lying. You pass me by, you never turn your head. I never catch your eye. That's good. I don't want you to notice me. I'm a stranger looking up at you. Your life revolves around me. I am the axis upon which you spin. I'm a stranger. I never met you. I know your cell number. I know your real name, the one you use when you're alone. There is no door you can shut to keep me out.

Some nights I look into the crowd and I want to see them all destroyed. I'd like to have a flame thrower and just fire right into them. Burn their hairdos right off their heads. Every night I play I listen to them yell at me, telling me what to do. Telling me to sign this and shake their hands. Telling me what they think of me whether I want to hear it or not. They poke at my eyes, pull my hair and punch me while I play. Fuck that shit. Flame thrower full bore into them. I'll watch them burn. My face will be expressionless. I'll feel good.

from Henry Rollins's Art to Choke Hearts
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