I feel sick. Nauseous and I want to hurt myself. At the same time I also lie down for the rest of the day pretend that I'm dead. But I'll have to work. Despite my best efforts, my life is broken mess. I will never have what I want, which is only a simple and quiet life with the person I love. I will never have that. Only endless struggle, be a money making machine, pay bills and pay for a thousand other things and think of dying at night as I fall asleep.

I want to kill myself but I still hope things would get better and that's why I can't die. But it has been too long to get any better. I wish I'd get a heart attack one of these days.