Dear diary, My day is no different than any other, with the only difference being what my imagination creates, taking me away from the sadness that is my reality. I often see no significance in even keeping a journal, for my pages can be filled in at any time for it shall be the same sad story day after day. The pattern that my day follows has never been broken. It is like a spinning …showed first 75 words of 471 total…

…showed last 75 words of 471 total…more meaningful life overwhelms me more each day. It is like a glass filling up with water, each second it is inching toward the rim. But now, even a drop will cause it to overflow. I have waited to long! I have endured this life for too long. I have wasted too much of my life in this tower, I have spent too much time living in melancholy for myself. i shall now move on.