Hi. I'm confessing here and now that I'm a very angry person. I often harbor thoughts of suicide by a knife, but my veins are so small that cutting myself would be very laborous, slow, and painful. I'm anger inside at the world, at every person and at everything. I have no family, no friends, no anything. And it is all purely by chance. You see, my entire family is psycho. There isn't a person who doesn't have a sickness and who, therefore, doesn't need to be avioded. Some of them are compulsive liars while others are theives while others smoke weed and still others are suicides like myself. I live a very lonely life. But the reason I haven't yet taken my life is, irnoically, my once suidcidal mother. It would break my heart to watch her find my broken body and I would not move on into the light of the afterlife from the weight of the guilt. And so I would linger on . . . a miserable ghost. And so, you see, I am trapped in my mundane existance with no escape of the reality that is my hell. No, don't buy into that bull that says life is what you make it. I didn't make my 'boyfriend' join the military and therefore, never be around or in contact. I didn't make my cousin lie to me and steal from me and read my diary. Yes, Tempestt, I know you read my diary and that you showed the stuff about Chaun to him and that you made him hate me. I know. I knew when you stole me clothing. I knew when you lied about being raped. I knew. I just didn't want to believe that someone I loved could be so twofaced and foul, so cold and hearltess. I wanted to believe in the good in you. Call me a fool, but that's what happens when we love. And I loved you. But don't worry. I've learned my lesson and I shall never love again. Gone are thouse blissful days. You broke me heart. Are you happy? I hope you burn in hell. Yes, I know I once told you that there was no hell. But if there is, I hope you burn forever. And I shall smile up your screaming face and toss fuel on the flames.