That’s how I feel at the moment. If anybody could see who I truly was, I’d be finally, truly alone. Maybe that’s what it will take to get the courage to end everything. I’m stuck in this fucking hole, and when being myself leads to pain, what else have I got than to lie, or to give up the act and let everything fall apart?
Nobody will ever understand who I am and what I still think about doing… if it gives any perspective, I’ve had dreams of killing people and watching them choke on their own blood. That was when I was eight, and the images will never leave me.