Dear diary,
No matter how hard it is I must not show my emotions because ,these days, there is no trust,there is no humanity.
Humans suck.
I have to learn how to fake a smile and how to force a laugh because it's so much easier than explaining what's wrong with me.
People think I'm fucked up because I'm not afraid of death but why would I be scared of something that will take me away from here?
Sometimes,death,seems better than the migraine in my head.
But I'm still here.
I'm still a broken needle lost in one of many stacks of hay stored forgettably on a vacant piece of land somewhere on the outskirts of a desolate countryside.
