Dear diary the year is 1895,
Day after day i work 14 hours everyday life seems so puzzled i came here in America with views of happiness but i find myself here in a room dark loud and everyone so dead to the world they move asif they were asleep working. no expressions just dark sad eyes around me. depression seeps down into my veins and is carried all down and up my body. I cant breathe i need air. i need help.
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