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I'm still here, iv lost count of the drugs I'm on, there's no sign of getting better, I'm not sure eny moor, mum , when we discussed my will, forget rob and Rick, you have my flat, and the only friend I have worthy of a gift from my estate is niel James. Pls note. Mother I'm not alright, my body don't work, all I'm fit for is laying in bed, I'm tired of it. The core of my body is rotten, every thing that comes out of it is worse than ***, I wish I could find a way, I keep searching, iv let go, and let God x