I am thinking about death again today. After another argument with Mama. As long as I am alive I will be the source of her fear, anger, her unhappiness. Sometimes I wish I've never been born.
If only I could choose to not tell the truth today. What is truth anyway. It's not so much worthy. There are too many truths. Too many realities. And we all are our own senses.
Forgive me Ma... I wish I could be wiser and be more tough to hold myself in.
