once a faliure. always a retard

”I hate my bed sheets. When I turn around at night, they become sweaty and hot. It feels like being trapped in my own head. Sweaty, hot and stressful. But you thought it would be easy to sleep when you only got 4 hours a sleep the other night. But no. The sheets are always sweaty. The brain is always at full speed.

Somewhere the light must be. I just can't see it, not even when I press the power button.
Days no longer exist, they have become like a story. Everything I say and do is outside of my head. I'm just looking at myself and my actions.
Maybe I'm not meant to survive or live happily ever after. I may be one of those weak ones , a suicidal person. Just because weak people also need to exist. The strong ones needs to look strong.”