I’m unable to make my own f****** decisions! If I try to decide what’s best for me, I’ll just f*** up and someone will have to correct me. If I do something, anything, my parents will tell my social worker and then I’d have to stop that thing. They’re too overprotective of me because of my autism, and I know they’re right. They’re always right just as I’m always wrong. Suicide seems preferable to this retarded load of s*** as each day passes. I’m once again bench pressed against the window, watching the cold air melt the rain.
