i haven't felt this down ever in my whole life. as if it was the love of my life. the ethical thing is like a slap on my face. i guess that's why it's bugging me so much. i didn't know it will come to this. is it wrong? i didn't really give any thought about it. i spent so little time on the dissertation so far, it just didn't cross my mind. and i do try to avoid thinking about these things as much as possible. but how did it come this far? i guess i asked for help. but that was a gesture of friendship! stupid me. and my line of ethics and morality was always a bit fuzzy. i don't know. i'm so fucked. i can't do anything or say anything...i'm scared! i feel like killing myself. whenever i thought about killing myself before, i thought about slitting my wrists. because i heard it was the most painless one. but today i was looking for the right way to do that, i found out i need the right kind of blade. otherwise it'll hurt like hell. and also they said something about cutting the right vein, according to them, the process shown in the movies is all wrong. now, how do i find the right vein for gods sake? i was thinking about throwing myself in front of a car or something, but that would be unnecessarily dramatic, and also, i think that car's going to stop just inches from me, and i'll have a hell of a time explaining that to the police. tube would have been a good option. but tube is in london. well i could travel i guess. all the way to london to throw myself on the track. sounds ridiculous. how else? sleeping pills don't work. i can starve myself to death i guess. i haven't eaten anything today, and if i don't eat anything for the whole next month..there's a chance? but i don't know, people survive. i'll end up looking like a starved somalian teenager. one option would be to drown myself. but i could never do that. that's like my worst nightmare, drowning. i hate the idea of not being able to breathe. my asthma is to be blamed for it i guess. but it could be done in a very romantic way, like virginia woolf...i'll collect stones all day, put them in the pockets of my coat, then jump into the canal? but walking around in a coat in this weather doesn't sound very appealing. horrific was sylvia plath's. i still can't understand how she put her head into that oven! it would be like the ultimate torture one can inflict upon oneself. and she was 30, i'm almost her age. i wish i was dead just like that. going to sleep at night, never waking up. that would be the perfect death anybody can wish for. but that's not going to happen though. i have dragged this life for the last 29 years, to a place i hate. and the future's not looking good either. i will drag it for god knows how many years...to nowhere. i wish there was a painless sure way to die. i would love to die tonight.

1 hour or so later...

just thought of another option. blowing your brains off with a gun. this is the most reasonable one. the pain would be the minimum, almost none at all. just a flicker of a second, and there you go! funny this option didn't cross my mind before, i'm reading news about brains blowing all the time. only problem is i don't have a gun. and it's difficult for me to even get one. they say uk has the strictest gun laws...so no hope. wish i was in the usa, getting a gun would be no problem whatsoever there.

the more i read, the more frustrated i get. i haven't really read anything either. just 4/5 pages of a single book? i can't concentrate. i feel like putting a stop to everything and getting lost somewhere. where to start? where? i hate history.

i am amazed to see people who like themseleves so much. they are so grateful for just being here, always trying to make the most of what is called life. and the worst thing is, i keep meeting these type of people all the time. i mean, what is there to like about? it's all fucked up. i sometimes feel like shaking them hysterically and shouting 'wake up, life is NOT beautiful, it's shit!'

i feel terrible. i can't work, i can't study. and i'm having serious doubts about my academic ability. i have achieved one realization through this masters - i can't write! i am a terrible writer, i hate whatever shit i write. i can't organize my thoughts. i'm actually scared of writing. i don't understand any kind of jargon, because they are so confusing my gawwwwwwwd! i don't know what to do. i'm not beautiful that i'd get a wealthy husband who'll look after me (not that i'd ever like to have one, it's just an option). and i'm not capable of looking after myself either! i'm shit at studies. and i dont like jobs in banks or in any kind of multinationals corporations. what am i going to do! i hate myself. i could be beautiful, but no, i had to be the ugliest creature i've ever seen. i could be intellgent, but no, i had to be the stupidest person i've ever known (except for my pakistani ex-housemate, i think she beats me to it, but that's no consolation!). aarrgh. i miss my friends. they're all gone. friends all gone is not a nice feeling. i just can't feel like being friends with girls who want to fix me up with a guy from UK so that i don't feel lonely. i mean hello, that's not the sole purpose of friendship! to find your friend a boyfriend. i wish i tried harder for that oklahoma thing. i need sharmee now. i need somebody who'll love me even though i'm so ugly and stupid and who possesses nothing to be loved. i feel another depression coming in. summer doesnt help. and there goes my dissertation. i'm going to end up with a 40% mark overall, and that's worse than no degree at all. i hate myself. why am i so stupid? why? why? why? why can't i write? what's wrong with me? everyone around me is so intelligent. how did i manage to become so dumb? so terribly dumb? and that's why i always go and make a mess of everything. my dumbness is the one to blame. i know it for sure now. well, at least i know myself. yeah, but i hate me!