My mood was fluctuating wildly; I wanted to cry and felt a lump in my throat, but my face remained expressionless and cold. I wanted to cut but couldn't find a utility knife. I should just die.
Lo peor que me pueden decir esq me digan "cansado de qué?" Jaja me voy a suicidar al frente tuyo y vas a ver de qué estoy cansado la concha de tu madre