Laura's twin brother talking to a tape, for his psy

We are saturday june 17th, 2006, and I am so bored. Bored of life, bored of people. Well, here's what you asked me, doc, let's record for the "who is the more depressed" contest. You asked me for that han? Anyway... I know you don't want to hear what I am doing to myself, well you'd like to hear it, but I keep that for another time. So what's going on in my mind that makes me so depressed? I feel like I am gonna win that contest, doc, and I feel like you know it. You know I am the unexpectable and the brilliant. So, here I start. First, I like noone. At least, I like noone in the people revolving around me: neither my familly, neither my "friends", neither anyone, except for some faraway people that I can just phantasm. Second, I've got no friends, meaning, true friends, that understand you. I guess someone may have me as a friend, but I don't. Third, this world isn't for me, or am I skillless? I can't do nothing, I can't mess with noone, I can barely talk, barely make a moove, I am scared of everything and everyone, I don't care for career and future, but I don't care neither for present. Past seems to be my only attraction. I also feel like I've missed everything and that I am already too old and would have to start it all over again. And I cannot bear the fact that I missed everything, even right now I am missing lots of things and people, that can never be save, you've failed. I want to be a perfect beauty but I am not. I want to be the most gifted person but I am not. I want to be the best human on earth but I am not. I want to be exactly the opposite of what I feel like I am. I want to be a 10 years old girl. I want to have a 10 years old girl. I want to change everything but can barely breathe. I don't know that I am breathing. I am living and I will maybe never know it. Past was better. Past Ages were better. Being someone else is better. Being someone else is impossible. Other people are impossible. Everybody is dumb. Everybody is false. People only believe in what they see of you. I only believe of people what I learned from them in my dreams. My dreams are all lost heavens. I lose heavens each night. I hate to have to live in reality, and I am awfull at it. Everything's getting worst. I only have glimpse of divine joy that are more and more retarded, and that are making me feel like an epileptic bug vomiting on its last legs.

So, do I win, doc? Next time I'll tell you what I do to myself. This will be another kind of trip for you.