This life of mine is nothing but utter chaos.
What the hell is wrong with everybody?
I can't stand it any more. I am sick of it all.
Just someone kill me please.
Run me over with a truck.
But knowing my luck, I'd probably live through it.
Would that be good or bad luck?
I dunno
Just forget it.
I'll cry myself to sleep again.
And my blood looks so precious again.
But still, I won't touch that glass, or knife again
I forbid myself.
I am sick of myself.
I want it all to end.

I just want it all to end.