Nine

I need to get away. Far, far, far fucking away. Where? I don't even care at this point. I feel like I'm going to have the worst mental breakdown of my life. I wish I had someone to talk to. I'm so stressed. I just want to start walking and not look back, ever. I'm never going to make it in life. I have so much to do, not enough ambition, and no sense of direction. More and more, I'm finding a thousand reasons all over the place to hate myself.

I started on this post over fifteen minutes ago, and I've only gotten this far. Backspace, backspace, delete, delete, backspace. I'm falling, falling, falling down and I can't get back up anymore. I'm barely holding on here. I've lost my balance one too many times.

"What did Roberta Sparrow say to you?"
"She said, ' Every living creature on earth dies alone.'"