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I'm strapped into my bed, I've got electrodes in my head. My nerves are really bad, it's the best time I've ever had. I'm a sick boy and there's no cure. I'm a sick boy there should be more. But I'm happy the way I am, like a sardine in can. People taking notes, people in white coats. I see school girls everywhere, short skirts and pig-tailed hair. But why must I suffer, for being a gym slip lover?