No one would listen

My name is Kenny McCormick.

I learned to listen.

And I can't die.

I live in South Park, born and raised. And believe me when I say, nothing changes here.

I want out.

In my dark, my heart heard music.

For good.

I alone could hear the music.

If there's one thing that I've learned from living here, it's that you have no one to rely on,

Shamed into solitude.
Shunned by the multitude.

But yourself.

It was during summer break, when I had realized that everyone was truly worthless. And that no one can make you happy. It was during summer break when I had fallen in love, and then had it stolen from me. As if it didn't even matter.

My name is Kenny McCormick, and to the world, I'm a normal human being. To the world, I'm just a 17 year old boy with no care what so ever, just a dumb kid that knows nothing.

Hah.

I wish.

Then, at last, a voice in the gloom seemed to cry "I hear you"

I wish I could be normal, I wish I could die normal, and feel normal, with someone.

With someone who's different.

Like, Kyle.

He understood me. He fucking UNDERSTOOD me. He knew, all about what I was going through. And for the longest time, for the longest fucking time, I believed he cared.

I believed that we were something, real.

I fell for it.

All of it.

But death knew I would, why else would it be called Summer Loving?

I wanted to have him as my own, but it couldn't work like that of course.

Oh no that just wouldn't do.

No one would listen,
no one but her
heard as the outcast hears

For once I had something that I loved, something that really mattered. And as the days went by, I kept wishing he was there again, in my arms. Because with him I didn't feel so worthless, with him I almost felt as if I was needed. I can't forget. I can NEVER forget.

But he can.

In fact,

he did.

It's not his fault, I know. And it wasn't just him who forgot of course, it was everyone. Everyone forgot that I had died. No surprise there.

It only lasted for 3 months.

I didn't die for 3 months.

I was happy for 3 fucking months.

It was like death purposely wanted me to be happy for a little while so that he could yank it away from me and rub it in my face.

No one would listen

No one would listen.

But, Kyle listened.

But that was then, and this is now. So it doesn't matter to anyone right?

Right?

My name is Kenny McCormick.

And I'm the listener, never the listened to.

And I can't die.

And the best fucking part about it is

No one remembers.

Kyle doesn't remember.

No one would listen
no one but her
heard as the outcast hears...

He never will.