It’s nearing the end of July and I still have not found a new place to live. This is the point where I start to panic. I would be panicking now too, if I hadn’t already been since the end of June. I don’t know what I am going to do. My luck seems to have run out… a long time ago.
It’s strange, it might be strange for others… Again, though I find myself thinking about death. It’s not something that I am afraid of. I cannot be the only one who feels this. I cannot be the only one who looks forward to the day when there will be no more days. If I only had the courage to hasten that day. Yes, that old premonition has returned as it always does. I will not live to see 31. There are times when the knowledge of this fact leaves me, they are fleeting though. It always comes back to me that I will kill myself.
In the end, I think it is for the best anyway. Why? I’ve never been too welcome here. Nor have I ever enjoyed it much. I feel thrust into the middle of a game in which I know none of the rules and am unwanted by either team. Why stay to catch the final score? The human race is only heading in one direction, extinction. Lucky for us, we’ve changed the long dirt road into a highway. It seems that we are even impatient of extinction.