I want to kill myself out of boredom, and I feel guilty for feeling that way, but I do. I need to feel something because all I feel right now is empty, empty, empty, and I want to die. No, I don’t want to die. I want someone to let me out of here because I want to live, and this is not living, this is just existing, and I hate it, fiercely and unforgettably. I’m broken again aren’t I? Just like Challenger again. I feel it. That weight that drowns you in sludge. That I can’t go on feeling. Can’t, can’t, can’t. How do I get out? Can’t even type more words.