Diary of the melancholic 

This world…
(Sigh) this world, it saddens me so. 

Like a lover without her love

 It bears to me no meaning.

 Like a childless mother.

It mocks me.

I am tired and my bile has overworked itself. 

I am bloated with ill-feelings and comfort shy away from me.

 Thus, I shall go now, up to that Mountain.

 I shall climb to the top of mount oblivion. 

I shall go weep to forget. 

I shall tear off my clothes and fight to unsink myself from this waters of sorrow, cleanse myself of this crushing pain.

 A pain to which I have become a slave; To toll for it day and night till my bones become sore and my heart heavy.

 This pain, oh this pain. 

This pain makes nothing excite me, 

nothing to make me want but it wants… to be the end of me.

 It wants to bend me,

It wants to break me, 

It wants to crush me

… to kill me.

(Sigh) This world, it saddens me. 

So, I shall leave now and I will go ease myself of it.

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