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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.