In point of fact I don't know what to think about... I'm writing because I promised to someone whose not alive anymore.

My name is... Well, I prefer to keep me anonymous. I'm a teenager, I'm between 15 and 19 years old. I would like to be more older than I am; I prefer to be 99 years old, because I know that maybe this would be my last day. Not as my current age, I'm too young for my liking.

I've tried to kill my-fucking-self three times; I've been at a fucking asylum two times. And the asylum didn't help, I think that made it worst. What did I learn there? Well, I learned how you should treat people; tell them what they want to hear and not the truth.

Ok, perhaps I have the worst therapist. I don't blame him, because he is as psychiatrist as I am. Or perhaps I have the worst mental illnes; and that's a stupid supposition because my brain "is alright"; or the machine makes the scan it's broken, and the hormonal tests, and all that shit.

Well I live with my brother, he pay everything that I consume (food, school, drugs, cigarettes, everything). Well, that's what he wants that I belive. I know that my parents give him money; maybe not all, maybe more than what I spend. But, He is still the only shit that keeps me breathing. He is the only reason that I've not tried a fourth suicide.

That's me, maybe an interesting guy, maybe not at all, maybe a little bit.

So this is the first reason because I want to die: I'm a fucking gay.