The only thing left for me is to stare at the little sky and shake my little fist because the world wasn't fair, and to that tiny little sky, it didn't matter.

So, I carry on in unimportance.

You know, every time I read something like that, it hurts just a little bit more, until eventually, it hurts so much that I can't stand it. Another night spent alone and at home. I don't see the use in going on.
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