I wonder how many people you have sexed since me and I bet it is a lot quite a few hundredsthousands and there might have been a time (there was) when I cared because that is how big my ego was and see I thought that meant I cared about you still and really what that meant was that I could not handle another dude inside of you even though I never wanted to see that disgusting shit cave ever again and now if people are crapping on your chest it might make me happy if I ever thought about it but I do not because I cannot even remember your name or that thing you used to say all the time and there are people in the streets on the verge of riot and the world is burning and what we had was like it happened to someone else like reading a history book about an event that was recorded in a place and time but does not seem real and it is as if we never existed and that makes me happy.