<font color="red">Psychotic Breakdown</font>

Apr 22nd 10:00 a.m I can't stand the noise. Please. Make it stop. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Take away this anxiety. I can't stand these people. Please. Make it go away. My brain. It's exploding. Help me. Please. I can't do this no more. I can't deal with this. My vision. It's darkening. It's dying. It's failing. Please. There's bugs. Under my nails. They move. They eat. They devour the varnish off my nails. I can't breathe. Help me. Please. PLEASE. Destroy this mental torment. I'm bleeding. Internally. I'm bleeding. Emotionally. Please help. I'm drained. I'm in Hell. This is Hell. This is what it is. Fuck dying. THIS IS HELL. LIVING. THIS IS HELL!! Please. Anybody. Anyone who feels this. Give me a sign that you exist. I'm begging. I'm on my knees. These bugs. They're eating me. I feel it. I feel them. Their teeth. They hurt. THEY'RE HURTING ME. My hair. Its crackling. It's shrivelling. FUCKING BITCH, STOP POINTING AT ME! I CAN'T TAKE IT. I can't take you. My hands tremble. The bugs. They fall off. They scurry right back where they started. PLEASE. Let me walk. Let me go away. Please. I can't feel. No pain. No pleasure. Just torment. Just hate. Help me cope. Help me breathe. Please. This is not how I imagined my death. DESTROY. ELIMINATED. GONE.