I was thinking: I could get out of here.
I could kill them, or I could escape and live as an illegal until they die. Or I could get fake documents, get an image change and live in the shadows, far away from here.
But I’m so so tired. Once you’ve given up, there’s no return.
I want to die because I’m tired of all the things I’ve been through. I don’t have the strength to face more. No more. I’m so done.
Writing is going well, but I’m still taking a lot of time.