Entry 17

     My headache came back, stronger than ever. I needed to get out of my house and forget about my missing work before I killed myself. Perhaps that's why some writers still use old fashioned typewriters; that way, there's no chance of losing your data, you always have a hard copy.
     “Perhaps,” I thought to myself, “I'd buy one...”
     It would give me something to do – an excuse to get out of the house.
     I instantly changed my mind. I became angry with myself – filled with hate. I grabbed my computer monitor and thrust it towards the ground. A smile came across my face as it shattered. I threw my chair at the wall, jamming one of the legs through the thin sheet of dry wall.
     I suddenly hated everyone and everything – including myself. I looked around and noticed how awful the room looked, even though I had only thrown two things. My anger subsided into depression and I fell to the floor.
     My head hung low as I sat there.

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