OK LISTEN
I AM RIDICULOUSLY ILL. IT IS EITHER QUARTER TO THREE OR QUARTER TO FOUR IN THE MORNING, DEPENDING ON WHETHER OR NOT YOU CHANGED YOUR CLOCK YET. I HAVE LOST SO MUCH WEIGHT THAT MY FRIEND WITH THE DYING MOTHER IS WORRIED ABOUT ME. I HATE MY FLATMATES. THEY JUST CAME IN VERY LOUDLY AND ONE OF THEM KNOCKED ON MY DOOR AND SHOUTED "HELLO, NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN".
OK, YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU FUCKERS? I DON'T SEE YOU BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO. YOU. FUCKERS. YOU ARE INCONSIDERATE CLINGING LITTLE FUCKERS AND I DON'T LIKE YOU AND I HAVEN'T TOLD YOU THIS YET BUT I'M ACTIVELY TRYING TO MOVE OUT. YOU LITTLE CUNTS CAN WASTE YOUR LIVES, BUT I'M GETTING OUT OF THIS SHIT-HOLE, OK? SO DON'T KNOCK ON MY FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW AND GET ALL PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE ON ME.
SORRY BUT I DON'T FEEL GOOD. MY THUMBS HAVE GONE WEIRD, ETC.