I fucking hate my life. I hate my life so much that I question God's reason for putting me here on earth. I ask him, "why God, why not kill me so that I may relish in death? I'm sure that death would be far better than the existence which I partake in now. I'm sure that being on fire for an indefinite period of time, in an infinite amount of heat, can not compare to the anguish I feel each day that I walk this land." There is no actual reason for me to live, I have no source of happiness. I'm merely living to amuse the others in this world that enjoy imparting pain and suffering on the undeserving others such as myself. Death to me sounds eloquent and relieving. I have never lived a year without severe pain, pain that transcends the mind, and physically hurts your heart. I don't deserve this... Ever since November 1, 1981, it has been nothing but the experience of death while walking. Stop asking me to smile. I'd much rather let my face show its true feelings. God knew when he made me that I was the inevitably fucked!!!
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