Dear anonymous,
I don't care if you're mad at me or anything. I don't care about your wrath. Not even one bit. It's really a good thing that I've learned to become insensitive about others' feelings. But why do you have to tell those people how mad you were at me last night just because I wasn't able to give you a portion of that since you're not a close relative of ours anyway? How about you tell that to my face!
Stop pitying yourself and thinking that you're just another freeloader who depends on others for food. That you're so poor and so no one wanted to be your friend. You keep droning on and on about how excited you are for your possibly-untimely-death and then your sufferings would end by then. Death isn't an escape. It's just a pointless resort for those who are too coward to face life. I was once kinda like that, but was never as crazy as you are right now. You go from one neighbor to another to tell a story about how tragic your life has been. Oh, please, we're not demanding for a sequel of Les Misérables. Stop being like that. No one's ever happy to be in that state. But please, find another way to entertain yourself at least. You have a family, but you're always yelling at them. Try to smile more often. Mood swings are optional. You can't keep frowning forever. There's just so much to be thankful for, if only you'd open your eyes and decline the negativities this world would allow.
~a (sort of) concerned neighbor