As the sun rose over the Bay Area in early January, I watched the waves crashing onto the shore.
In the distance, I could hear the sound of rain, the smell of sewage and the smell that was so close.
I was in the middle of a year of hard work.
I was writing my death note.
I wanted to write it as simple as possible and as long as possible.
It was my first time writing a personal note.
It had to be easy, simple and memorable.
I knew what to write and I knew how to write something with a capital A. I had an idea that I was going to start writing it and I was not sure what to do with it.
I spent the next few days and nights trying to decide what to include and what not to include.
I had a lot of ideas, but I also had to remember to leave out some details.
When I started writing my own death note, I did not know how to use the words.
It felt weird to write a death note that I knew would end in a death.
It took me a while to get used to that.
My ideas for my note included the following: “This is what life is like for me right now.
I’m not sure I will ever get to go to work.”
“The best way I can describe what I have going on is that I am depressed.”
“[The worst thing] is that when I think about all the things I need to do, I can’t do them.”
(I have a bad feeling about this part.)
“It’s like someone took a piece of me and used it for something else.
I wish I could go back and say ‘This is how I felt like in January.'”
“I think it’s important to keep my life short.
It’s important not to be too ambitious.”
I started to wonder if my ideas would be accepted by the community, so I decided to keep it short.
“For me, it was like going to the airport and having the entire airport shut down for a few hours, which I could do for about four days,” I said to myself.
“I knew I had to get my note out.
I didn’t know if I would get to it in time, but the thought of my life ending made me want to write.”
I kept it short and simple.
The notes were written as a quick summary of my personal experiences in 2017.
I could only get one word on the back of each note: I.I. (And I’m sorry I’m being super cryptic.
I know you won’t believe this.)
I was not really sure what I was doing.
I felt I had a really good chance of writing my note if I was very good at it.
The first few notes, I was thinking to myself, “This is a bad idea, this is going to get in the way of things, I’m going to be overwhelmed by all the requests I have to get through.”
But then I thought, “Maybe this is my best shot at doing it.”
My first attempt at writing my letter was an easy one.
I wrote, “I’ve been going through this shit for two years now and I still can’t get over it.”
It was an easier one to write than the second attempt, which was a lot harder.
I kept writing and I kept thinking about it.
After three days, I got it down.
It started off simple, with just one sentence: “I can’t live without the constant presence of people I don’t know.”
The first thing I thought was, “What does this mean?
How can I write this?”
The second thing I realized was that the whole purpose of writing a note was to have someone respond.
If you don’t respond, then you don.
It wasn’t that I wanted people to read my note, it’s just that I didn.
In January 2017, I had been working my ass off and living with anxiety, depression and stress for a while.
I thought it was going well.
I wasn’t stressed out by any means.
So I wrote this note.
There were a lot more notes I had written.
The more I wrote the more it felt like a diary, a list of all the negative events in my life.
I would write a lot and not get a single word on it.
But I knew I was working hard.
I also knew that I had not been as stressed out as I thought I was.
As I was typing my notes, things started to fall apart.
I began to feel like I had lost control of my anxiety.
I started thinking of the worst things in my past.
I lost my job.
I quit my job at my previous company.
Then I started to panic.
I realized that if I didn: 1) Not say anything,