I don't really have to, do I?

I don't really care. How shallow you are just to tell me that everything will change if I won't allow one thing--one moment--to pass by! Duh!

I'm sorry but this is murder. I wish for me to be killed. I don't know but any way any how I wish to be killed. Either now. Or later. Whatsoever! I just wanna be out of this body of mine! The frailty hurts more than the sickness, I tell you.

I really believe that the reason I am sick now is because of them. Why? It is their unintentional yet stupid words forced me off the limits. I mean, I know self-control. But when you're battered with a wooden chair that don't break, you will be forced to see yourself as they see you. Now look at me. Every single step heaves my breathing. Every up and down the stairs, and I am out of breath. Please don't let me tell the whole story; it will be lengthy and tearful, I tell you. It will be then that you will see me as that stupid midget who does as what others tell him. I am stupid, by the way; I know I am.

PS: I have to be honest to myself. I really have to.