I hurt. I hurt all the the fucking time. My belly hurts. I’m reducing my drinking but it really sucks. The withdrawals suck real bad.
Lost my colon to U.C. Have a bag on my belly.
I have to move my family out of the south. I have to be physically able to do it. We have to get out.
If I get them out maybe I they’ll be able to live happy.
I just want to die. I want the pain to stop. I don’t let my people know. They can’t do it without me.
I’m tired. I hurt all the time. I’m tired of hurting. I could turn it off, but I don’t for now. I’m tired of the pain. I love them and they need me. I just want to make sure they’re in a good place, away from here. Then I can finish it.
I don’t know you, but I’m thinking of you. I’m rooting for you. I believe in you. You’re going through some serious shit that I can’t even begin to imagine dealing with, and yet you’re thinking of those around you. Tells me everything I need to know about you. Keep on keepin on my friend.
Thank you, Sir.