Hento

I'm not happy

The sweet release of death.

What makes writers so grotesquely frightening is that their work often reflects the entirety of the self. Artists may express themselves through beauty, form, and reference, but writers bear themselves differently: their work becomes an extension of the foundations of their lives. And when something strains to be spoken yet remains incomprehensible, it speaks volumes.

The desire to be one with death has never been this grotesquely substantial for me. I'm at meet's ends

It's lonely, so lonely. I don't understand myself.

I kept you like a secret, but you held me like an oath..

Will you be a kind lamb and take this life away from me

I am unfit for human relationship

It feels like im becoming a part of your page
          Bah bye to everything i thought was on my side bye bye, baby. I want you so bad, but it's come to nothing and all I havw is your sympathy. Cause I took you home, but I just couldn't keep you.

My days are numbered. Finally I feel at peace.