"What's your problem? Huh?! Why do you do this to yourself?" Peter yelled. He couldn't take it any more. He was tired of Rowan acting out, acting different and for the first time in his time at Horizon, Peter was actually scared. He wasn't sure if he could actually ever help Rowan, make him, and force him to choose whether he wanted to live or die. And Peter was scared he'd choose die. "I, I, like how it feels to be dead. That's the hanging thing. It's like I have control over death because I can chose when I die. I get to dance with Death when everyone runs and hides because they're scared. But I'm not. And that means I'm never gonna get hurt." Sophie and Peter looked at him dumbfounded. That was the most he said in one sitting since he was released form the hospital. While he was in the hospital too, unless you counted him screwing with the shrink's mind. "Rowan, why would you feel that way?" asked Sophie, her voice hinting on a sigh of confusion. "It's just.. Never mind. Shuns, right?" Rowan got up and started to leave and Sophie headed over to the phone. Peter just sat in stared into space, thinking. Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this bull-shit, three-ring circus side-show of freaks here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA. The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any fucking time, any fucking day. Learn to swim, see you down in Arizona Bay.

Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hair-piece and Fret for your Prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your contract and Fret for your car.

Rowan slid into his chair and the lunch table went silent. Rowan saw Scott's face and it looked guilty. But, he at the moment, he really didn't care that privacy was not an option here. Jason passed by the table and stopped for a moment. "Hey Rowan, is it true you tried to outst yourself? I wish you had. It'd clean this place up!" He laughed and just walked away when the rest of the table screamed at him to shut up. Rowan just buried his head in his arms and waited for Dwayne to show up, for him to be screamed at again, to be sentenced to his room and his thoughts and torments. It's a bull-shit, three-ring circus side-show of freaks here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA. The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any fucking time, any fucking day. Learn to swim, see you down in Arizona Bay.

Some say a comet will fall from the sky, Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves, Followed by fault lines that can not sit still, Followed by millions of dumb-founded dipshits.

And some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this, Stupid shit. Silly shit. Stupid shit.

Dwayne stood next to Rowan. He tried to breathe, tried not to yell, but that's how it cam out. A scream of "Why?" and "What's wrong with you because at the moment he really couldn't take it. And the scream didn't catch Rowan muttering to his arms, record timing. But the scream was silenced when Rowan stood and began to walk away. But Dwayne wasn't given a chance to spit out the question that was formed behind his lips. Because Rowan had something to say. One great big festering neon distraction, I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied. Learn to swim. Learn to swim. Learn to swim.

Mom's gonna fix it all soon. Mom's coming round to put it back the way it oughta be.

Fuck L. Ron Hubbard, And fuck all his clones. Fuck all these gun toting, Hip-gangster wannabies.

"You are all such frickin idiots! You know that! You think you know so much! Well riddle me this physiatrist! How old was I when I started on sleeping pills! How old was I when I first cut myself! How about the first time I drank or smoke! How many times have I attempted suicide! Who got me into prostitution! Explain me! And what, you don't know! Do you want to know? 8 years old when I started on Nyquil. 6 when I first cut my arms. My mom used to spike my drinks with vodka and my dead would have me puff on his cigarette and laugh when I choked. I've tried to kill myself 11 times; 4 by slicing my wrists, 3 times by hanging myself, 2 times I've attempted to OD, once I tired to drown myself, and oh yeah! I was anorexic for 3 months because I thought it's be an interesting way to die but it just took too long! But you don't want to know that! You just want everything to be hugs and puppies but it's not! In real life, the love is killed and puppies are drowned when they're runts, not loved because they're so cute and helpless. So let me drown. Go away. Don't talk to me, don't touch me, just let #12 be the clincher." And the cafeteria was silent and Dwayne's scream died in his throat. Decayed and rotted there until he stepping forward after Rowan, who had left. Fuck retro anything, Fuck your tattoos. Fuck all you junkies and Fuck your short memory.

Fuck smiley glad-hands, with hidden agendas. Fuck these dysfunctional, insecure actresses. Kat stood and raced after Dwayne. Dwayne ran up to Rowan and said something. And Rowan reared back and punched him, screaming for him to not talk to him, to leave him alone. And Rowan reached into Dwayne's pocket and Dwayne lay on the ground unconscious because damn Rowan could pack a punch and Rowan pulled out keys and cigarettes. And ran to Dwayne's car and climbed in. And drove. And Kat stopped and stared. I'm praying for rain, I'm praying for tidal waves, I wanna see the ground give way, I wanna watch it all go down, Mom please flush it all away, I wanna see it go right in and down, I wanna watch it go right in, Watch you flush it all away.

Time to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. Peter stood and didn't move from the steps of his office. Oh yeah, he could chase after Rowan. But his brain refused to react. It just kept thinking the same thing, over and over again. Here's another tidbit for the files- grand theft auto. I can't imagine why you wouldn't welcome any change my friend.

I wanna see it come down, plug it down, suck it down, flush it down.



Song: Tool- Anemia