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I will end my life when the sun rises.

The rope slips around my neck.

My feet sway above the floor.

Mowed down with full force.

The head smashed in the windshield.

A gun on the temple.

My brain spatters the tiles.

I cut my wrist and watch the blood flows.

Every morning, the same images of me dying, as a never-ending movie turning in my head.

And this little voice saying DO IT! You don’t deserve anything but violent death so, DO IT!