Friends, Romans, countrymen:
I've just shot myself. I'm sick of running. Sick of hiding. Sick of living like this, being hunted down like an animal, not even having enough time to update this damn blog. By the time you read this, I'll certainly be dead.
But worry not: You'll hear from me soon.
Regards,
Dante
I've just shot myself. I'm sick of running. Sick of hiding. Sick of living like this, being hunted down like an animal, not even having enough time to update this damn blog. By the time you read this, I'll certainly be dead.
But worry not: You'll hear from me soon.
Regards,
Dante
Oh God.
ReplyDeleteI...
I didn't really want you to do it. I
I hope you knew that.
I'm really sorry.