Today, I smoked almost two packs of cigarettes. My chest is hurting, and it's a bit hard to breathe. I want to die. But I miss her too. And she doesn't like cigarettes and beer, either. One day, when I was mad like a tantrum, I drank a beer in front of her, and we had a big argument. I am so sorry for that, amor. However, I did not smoke because of that. I am writing a book about Ambon and Conflict, so I need more energy to manipulate my body, my brain. I hate it, actually, just like I hate my brain that stores all the violent memories. But she said, "My brain is beautiful and kind." But she went, too. I don't know. I am confused and hurt.  I miss you mono.

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