I know what I’m going to do. Monday morning, no ifs or buts. There is a multi storey car park. I’m going to listen to my music one last time and have one last cigarette. I’ve written a note for my mum and my sister but I will ring them one last time, just to hear their voices one last time. Then I’m going to just let myself fall. I’m just tired of living. I’ve been through too much to believe that life will get better. The world is a depressing and evil place and I for one have no intention of living on to see more death, more destruction, more greed and more deceit. I used to be a small carefree boy, with a loving family and nothing to worry about. His name was James. James died a long time ago, more years ago than I care to remember. I have no idea who I am or what my purpose is. All I do is bring misery and suffering to people and I’m so sick and tired of it, I would never intentionally harm another human being at all. What is this life for anyway? Is it just to show us how futile how it is, how we’re all set to fail no matter what? I love everyone I’ve ever met, I love my family, my friends, they all mean the world to me but the problem is I just don’t love myself. I can’t take it anymore.