Tired

The walls of my room seem to be closing in on me.
I can't think of anything beautiful. Suddenly, all I'm thinking is how many ways there are to end one's life.
Or, how many ways are there to runaway?
I'm so tired of this.

The saddest part is I don't want to die, I love life.

I have this secret desire to send an e-mail that says "help" to everyone I know and see what their reaction will be. It's pretty desperate.

I will breathe now.

And then I will be sane again.

And the bitterness will go away.