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Whose fault is it that I’m unhappy? Is it a problem I can only solve on my own? Without knowing what sort of mood I am walking through this forest in, they keep flapping their lips, trying to speak to me, but I’m in a precarious state where engaging me in conversation might endanger their lives. No, I’ve got to cut in front of these fucking maggots before I crush them under my feet.
Sharing my worries with myself is impossible. I already know my w o r r i e s . I’m not h o p i n g f o r s o l u t i o n s. I n e e d s o m e o n e w h o w i l l l i s t e n . No, I’m asking for a person who will steal away my time with good conversation. I’m so busy I could d ie, but I’m also n o t t h e l e a s t b i t b u s y, w i t h a l l t h e t i m e i n t h e w o r l d on my hands. Sometimes I have so much time it s i c k e n s me. Please take up my time! Not my body, b u t m y t i m e , time together with me.

