They are killing me. Is not as much my live and reality, is what I have in my head most of the time. It is what I keep thinking, it is the future I don’t see in front of me what tortures me. I wish I could stop thinking. I’ve been fighting that for ages, as I read my old diaries. It has been always the feeling. I cannot stand myself, my thoughts, unless I am moving, doing something pleasurable, that makes me forget about myself, and doesn’t allow me thinking.