They say drawing makes it easier to comprehend what happened. Apparently, it fucking doesn't.

I don't even wanna fucking live anymore. Humanity is crap and I don't wanna be part of it anymore.

Today in school, my lucky charm got stolen. Like, we have to leave our jackets outside of the classroom. Unattended. And I kept my lucky charm in my jacket. It's gone now. People are such despicable creatures. I hate them. I hate everything that could ever be considered bad about them.

It was something from someone dear to me, you know? And I won't ever get it back. It may just have been a D-Mark, but it was my treasure.

So, I've cried for like an hour at home (when I noticed it was gone) and drew this:

It's so cold in my room that I can't feel my feet or hands anymore but I don't even care at this point.