Mood: despaired Suicide seems the only viable option left. Few things stop me from doing so, and the deeper I get into this, the less I begin to care about other's sorrow. I'm trapped in a self-centered world of shit. I'm a prisoner to something metaphysical. I'm a slave to emotion. I don't feel dead inside, the problem is quite to the contrary because rather, I feel too much of a multitude of things. All I'm looking for is a reason to hold on, because ironically enough, a reason to hold on is one of the few things I cannot feel.
A dirty end
7:02 a.m.//12.04.06
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