I woke up and I wanted to die. Everything was better than this tortured existence One could even say that I'd prefer any other means of torture than this.
After writing a story, I went to the kitchen and got myself a kitchen knife. I was ready to slice my throat open and let myself bleed to death.
The blade was right by my throat and I was making a fine pre-cut, causing my skin to redden.
But then...
I got another story idea.
This has to stop.
I want out of this nightmare!
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