Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. Not even a little bit. Not even close. Not even at all.

Sometimes, I wake up around 1:30 in the morning. I wake up around 1:30 and, I walk into my bathroom and stare into the mirror. I don't like what I see. I don't like it at all.

Sometimes, I go home and sit by myself just to be alone. I sit by myself and I cry. I cry because no matter how much I wish it, I will never be normal. I will never have a father.

Sometimes, when I go to school, I see that dratted Jew-rat hanging out with them. I see that dratted Jew-rat and I'm filled with a kind of longing. He's the kind of person that I wish was my best friend. The kind of person I'll never have.

Sometimes, I reflect on events long past. I reflect on events long past such as the time my cousin ten years my senior molested me. No one knows. And no one would care if they did know.

And sometimes, I take a good hard look at my life and realize that everything that's gone wrong is my fault.

All I really want is for someone to love me unconditionally. My mother loves me with the love of a mother; if she wasn't my mom, she'd hate me. All the other mothers do. They hate me because all they can see is the facade that I work so hard to keep up, even when all I feel like doing is breaking down.

Sometimes, I want to go to the store and buy a gun. I want to buy a gun and shoot myself with it. I think I'd really be doing the world a tremendous favor.

I see him, with his annoyingly stupid-looking Jew hat, and sometimes, I just get the urge to blurt it all out to him.

But he'd think I was lying. I usually am.

I see his friends, the people that I don't dare call my friends, since they hate me, and sometimes I just get the urge to tell them that they can get their filthy pissant hands off of him, since he should be mine.

But they'd think I was crazy. I usually am.

And when the world finally comes to an end, I'll be the one incomplete soul who never knew true happiness. When God finally chooses between the living and the dead, I'll already be as gone as gone can be.

Sometimes, I flip through the pages of my well-read, well-worn Bible. I flip through the pages until I find the one line that curses everything that I am. I read it, and I read it again, and I read it over and over and over again until my whole body is wracking with sobs that I can't control, that I can never control.

Sometimes, I make fruitless wishes. Fruitless wishes that God would love me just as much as He loves everyone else. But I've never given God any reason to love me. Even the Jew is more a devout Christian than I could ever hope to be.

Sometimes, I think my whole pitiful existence sprouted from the fact that I don't have a dad.

I don't have anyone to protect me. No one to play catch with. No one to teach me the ways of being a man. All I've got is a mom, a whorish, overwhelming, spoiling mom, who teaches me the ways of being a woman. I don't want to be a woman.

But sometimes, I do want to be a woman. I want to be the one woman that he chooses above all else. But it's wrong, it's unnatural.

Sometimes, I can't figure out if it's my non-existant father or my sadistic cousin's fault.

But most of the time, I'm sure that's it's my own.

Sometimes, I wake up around 1:30 in the morning. I wake up around 1:30 and, I walk into my bathroom and stare into my mirror. I do the same this morning. Only I know, that next morning, I won't be waking up... because next morning, I'll be gone.

FIN

Creepy? Indeed.