Hope, such a silly thing, isn’t it? It makes you expect things, good things, only to be disappointed in the end. God, I am so tired. I can’t feel anything anymore. I hate this place. I hope I die. I’ve been sick for the past few days. My head keeps hurting. My throat keeps burning. My dad says it’s probably Covid. But he’s not letting us tell anyone about it.
I live in a 3rd world country. The doctors and people in authority take advantage of the chaos caused by the virus to get what they want, to pass laws that go against human rights. But keeping quiet about this, it doesn’t feel right. I hope I die soon. I don’t want anything in life anymore. I just want it all to stop. I just don’t want to exist. I want to stop breathing and die. We’re infecting other people and my parents won’t tell anyone. Am I any better? Why am I scared of them? I can do something about this. I can tell someone. I can prevent people dying but I’m so f****** scared of my parents. Why am not afraid of death but afraid of people? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not doing my part as a person who should have basic understanding. I’m just as bad as my parents. God, why was I born? Why am I here? I’m violating all my morals. I’d rather die than violate my morals. I will die. I will.