I couldn't have felt more of lonely desolation somehow, had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life...

I didn’t feel at home in life.

I am sure that the reason why I wept and stormed as if I had gone off my head was that the combination of physical exhaustion and my unhappiness had made me hate and resent everything.

Apathy robbed me of the strength even to despise myself.

The parts of me that used to think I was different or smarter or whatever, almost made me die.

Solitude was corrupting me.

These are the ghosts I live with and I hate myself for all I became and did. I am not just sorry, I am haunted. I think of all the people I hurt, of all the moments I stole from your lives, and I know I deserve to die.