1999-11-15 - 11:43 p.m.

November 15, 1999

Dearest Beloved,

Today, unfortunately, was my birthday. I couldn’t stop crying or stop feeling sorry for myself. All day long I looked and looked for reasons that would justify my existence. I couldn’t find any. And so now I wonder why I continue to breathe, eat, or sleep. I feel as disgusting as I look and I continue to make it worst by not acting accordingly. Death wouldn’t be too bad if I could get a second chance to do everything over or if I could choose my next identity. My mind denies my reality and my denial rots my mind.

Anyway, I do not wish to sound morose anymore. Yesterday, I spoke to Charma with some self-respect, kind of. Without anyone to share my life, my heart continues to freeze.

Poit.

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