On days like this we find it so hard to push ourselves up and out of bed...

I just don't think that things are meant to work out for me. I am meant to live and die alone. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't think I can ever be cured. I don't think I can ever be loved. Why do I keep on taking chances when I know what the outcomes will be? I always end up alone. Amor e morte.