cellini's Diaryland Diary

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Again, I want to die.

We disagreed about what to do about her friend who is pregnant and desperate. I was kinda drunk and emotional and was terribly worried about what would happen to her after she had asked for help. And I wanted to do as much as possible.

So the next day I didn't see a response from her, and I shut off the chat application in Android that we'd been talking through.

A few days later I sent her an email apologising for having been too emotional about a baby, even hypothetical. I have an extreme weakness for anything involving a baby. I know that I gave too much credit to one random chick who doesn't matter.

A few days later, she responded. But I do not have the strength to read her email. Days go by and I can't do it.

I don't think that I matter. I'm not someone whom anyone should care about. I am garbage. Nobody wants to read what I have written. Nothing that I have done matters. My work is worthless. My life has meant nothing and I am nothing.

I am garbage. Christa should not waste a tear on me. I am a piece of shit which should not be suffered to exist. I want to die.

4:54 a.m. - 2021-02-05

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