April 6/1998
It hurts inside. all I feel is pain and anger. All I see in pain and anger.
I live the life of the living dead. I have sold me sould to the Devil. I want
hope. Something is missing within me. Empty. Lonely. It's so... hard. I want
to share, I want to love. No one knows. I can;t seen to tell anyone. Everytime
I hold a knife, I wonder what it would be like to thrust it into myslef.
I see death everyday. I promised. Did I promise? Yes, I did. But promises
are such lies. My life is a lie. Made-up. What I appear, what I seem; I am not.
What is the truth anymore? I don't seem to know anymore.
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