I hate my life but I fear death. This complementary idea being inside my head fucking keeps me from letting go and wanting to be away so I can isolate. Family who don't act like a family. A mother who wants the best for her child but wants to make a hard time for him because of her fucking pride. And this sister who doesn't give a fuck about this family. Who only goes to the house to make my mother wash her clothes. I fully understand my father on why he can't act like one anymore. I hate this family. We are complete, but that's the only thing I could be grateful for.
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