I feel lonely, my head hurt's like hell (no one cares). It's only a cloud of cigarettes of the people that gave me life. I may get cancer or lung Disease from swilling the poison even though I'm so far. I feel not myself. I got kicked in hand (wrist ish) and the back of my head. Yet the people say sorry. I want to scream but I can't. I don't have the *guts*. I want to runaway but I can't.