This following paragraph of junk is the end of some really emotional piece of work that somebody wrote just for me. After a half an hour of opening the saved attachment from six thousand forwards, I finally read a little poem about something that happened about 6 years ago.
This is just the ending part.

Now you have 2 choices,
1) Pass this on, and show people you care,
2) Delete it, and you have just proven you have a
low-down, cold-hearted heart. Now go and pass this to as many people as you please. Even sending it to one person still gives you a heart.

Yes, I deleted it to prove that I have a low-down, cold-hearted heart. I will forever feel bad for myself because I have a low-down, cold-hearted heart. And it's the truth too! I have always had a cold heart. And I must need to prove that to who, and why? I'm the only one that's going to know that I deleted it. Is my self conscience going to give me nightmares? Now, what was the author of that letter thinking? "I'll send this to a bunch of people and make them feel bad. I'll force them to be annoying by threatening them with an insult, if they don't pass on my creation." I mean, come on now. Really. Somebody should send that into the writers of Pinky and The Brain for a show. The Brain could rule the world from sympathy alone. Where do people come up with things like these. So, for those of you that remember a long time ago when I put up an e-mail that I wrote to end all forwards, you people disappoint me. Forwards do still exist unfortunately. What is this world coming to? So now, if you will please rise up with me in the fight against forwards. Write to all of your friends telling them to forward your e-mail about dumb, useless forwards to everyone in their address books, and put threatening insults in it for those who simply just delete your letter. I'm a genius. You can write that in there too. I shall go down in history as a simple mortal, who put an end to this highly technical annoyance, thus saving the world from people just like you and me that sit there in their dark little room typing away at anything that they could possibly think of.

  posted by Anonymous @ 1:23 PM