Today is Monday.
I did not get the grade, the results on the test that I'm sure I fucked up. I'm gonna get the results tomorrow.
I am probably sick. I feel like throwing up occasionally. My body hurts, my throat aches, and my heart sinks.
I am unbelievably tired of life. My cousin is very much an asshole with me. Maybe it is for the better. Maybe it is with good intentions. Perhaps I'm too frail for life. I'm too weak, I believe.
I... I believe I'm gone. I don't know. I feel like I should kill myself. I feel like it's the natural path in my journey.
I am terrified of everything. I feel weak. I feel so, so very alone. I feel so, so very terrified. I have no love. I have no company. I have nothing. I don't even have myself, for I hate whatever it is that I am.
I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I was better. I wish I could go back in time and stay with Mom, hug Mom once again, tell my mother I love her. I always did. I always told her how much I loved her, every five minutes or so, for about 20 years, and I would have done it all again.
And then I remember her body, frail, rotten. I remember her last days, that one night that she called my name and I wasn't there, and I wonder how much more did I fail.
And yet, I suffer. I suffer for what my cousin says are mistakes my mother made. She says my mother was stupid. Who the fuck does she think she is to talk about my mother like that?
I hate that. She talks about my friends as if they are useless. They're not useless. We are just a different kind of generation.
I hate this. I hate everything. I hate her. I hate the situation. I hate myself. I hate life.
I wish I would not wake up tomorrow. I wish my heart would just stop beating, and my friends would just cry, cry, cry, and miss me, and life would be over, and that's it.
I can't handle it anymore. I'm so tired. So depressed. Oh my God.
