Get Out Get Out
Can you feel your confidence match the billowing crowd? You even feel cocky, believing you've earned the admiration of a few. It is, in fact, what it appears to be: a voice fastened to paper very carefully, a cry cut from its mouth. But then, you think, who is that you're talking to? There's no one here, just paper and ink and you. What is this pathetic game? Get out. Go find a friend.