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13.05.2009
I come from work, I sit home alone, nothing to do, even on the wall. There is no money, no food, even inets brakes. I swallow everything, I go out to the balcony. After the rain on the street is wet, ugly, fog somewhat incomprehensible. Toughened in one word. Suicidal thoughts in the head. The cigarette falls from above. I thank God mentally, I smile to no longer such a cloudy sky and here a whole package falls from above.