-3- (dont read it just my diary)

Month after month, year after year, the memories of happiness start to fade, and the tears that once couldn't be held back have now dried on their own. Even though I haven't even lived for decades, I've already planned this death.

Nothing will change unless I change it myself. What should this young woman do, fearing the world despite being a nobody, never even threatened by anything? I share this story in case one day I'm no longer here-not now, because I still have ambitions I cannot abandon.

There are many questions I have about this world that no one can answer.

What do you think death is? How does it feel to be left behind by someone who has passed away? How would you respond? Silent? Crying? Or indifferent?

Staring at the ceiling of the bathroom, where the thought of dying crosses my mind, it's funny, isn't it? Nowadays, people trivialize the word "death," mock it, and even see those who wish to die as nothing more than a joke.

I have a dream. My dream is to die among people who have forgotten me. I want them to remember me again, to recall all the wrongs I've done to them so they can be grateful that I'm gone, leaving no more grudges behind.