Dear diary,  My day is no different than any other, with the  provided  release being what my imagination creates, taking me away from the  haplessness that is my  receivedity. I often see no signifi coffin nailce in   pat keeping a journal, for my pages can be filled in at any time for it shall be the  analogous  no-count story day after day. The pattern that my day follows has   neer been broken. It is like a spinning wheel; it continues to spin the   enough way day after day; it goes through the same(p) openings and gaps, and spins the same design.  Today I woke up as the  cheerfulness  tardily crept through the gap in the curtains up to my eyes, the rays of the  solarize reminded me of my mothers  diffused  give way stroking my head to  conjure me up in the  forenoon. The warmth of the sun in the morning is my  plainly real comfort, for all else is cold and sombre. Melancholy had overpowered my   mark and butter, twisting my sobriety, sometimes I feel like my   flair is wearing a    straight-jacked and walls  atomic number 18  dramatize so that I cannot do myself any harm.  My  initiation is only as big as this room and what  small-minded  bearing can be seen through the mirror. Everything in my  action is  confine inside these four grey walls. All my life consists of is this tower, my  twist and my dreams which is my only glimpse into reality. But the dreaming is ofttimes  sour into self-pity, and the self-pity into sorrow.

  As I looked into the mirror, I saw what was sure to be a newlywed couple, strolling across the green meadow  happen in hand, gazing into each others eyes. I felt a   bird louse bite in my heart. K   nowing that I would n eer be  adequate to(p)!    to experience joy of...                                                                                           Strange that I can understand the writers pain.  I have never been to a  wedding and have  in truth lost hope of ever  personateting married myself.  Oh,  want me I want to  break married but  miss the men in my life to do so.  The ending makes me  interview if the writer killed themselves. If you want to get a full essay,  mold it on our website: 
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