I deeply regret that day when the cut wasn’t deep enough to die or even for a good stitch. I thought I had reborn the morning next and that I should start rebuilding myself – bit by bit. I hoped that that regret will wipe away. I would have my life within my limits and I’ve grown in all these months to not care for the world. Hoped a lot but sadly, here I am – again shattered, crying my eyes out and pain hammering my heart. I am simply thinking about how this present wouldn’t have existed if I was successful in doing what I’d attempted. I don’t want to around this place, with these people directly or indirectly present, voices and memories and all these false hopes I’ve set for myself. I’m struggling to fit in here and clearly I’ll never be able to learn the basics of this world. Where’s the end to this? You can’t say that I didn’t’ try. I did. I’ve done everything to behave and live. I’m failing. The consequences are too harsh!