5.7.2000

It started raining. I could see a pair of white hands which I couldn't recognice. After a while I realised they were mine. I couldn't feel them but I could see them rising, loosening the noose. I could feel the pressure go down. They lifted the cord from around my neck, and I collapsed.

Then there was the thunder. For once, appropriate surrounding for my melodrama. Rain and thunder, oh! see! something has to change now.
But nothing changes now. This isn't a movie. I won't take the walk to the hospital. I won't call them. I won't ask his permission to break the pact. I won't do anything. Like I have never done anything.
At some point it will end. I know it will, and I'm putting my faith on it, even if I can't make death come any faster than it is now coming.

Did I believe I'd succeed?
No, of course not. Only a fool would believe such a thing. But when you try and try and try, at some point you're bound to succeed. Or then something lets you off the hook.

I forgot the bruise. I went to buy food but I didn't remember the bruise. I don't know when it will fade. It might take a while.

Back again.