There's a light on in Chicago...and it just burnt out.

It seems I'm not the only one in the world to be depressed. Reading other's trials, has made me about how selfish I have been. I've been whining about how many people hate me, when I could be thinking about how many people would rather push me out of the way of moving traffic. Of course, I'd rather know what a broken leg is like, it's the punishment I deserve.

Whoa, want to hate you half as much as I hate myself. But I can't, because you didn't do anything to me. I'm just uptight. I'm the reason that you're laughing at me, not because of what I wear, because of how pitiful I am.

Anyway, when I stop hating myself and start seeing I don't believe in this shit, I'll wake up and call you. It's the last thing I'd do at this point.

Ari.