I knew it was too good to be true. How can I let myself believe I’m fine? Have I forgotten that what I have is incurable? I thought that having a lot of school work would keep me occupied. I thought my mind wouldn’t be wandering off to places I’ve already been. But I feel empty again. I want to stop time so I could spare myself of the guilt of wasting it in my loneliness and despair. I want to bury myself in the ground like every other dead man who’s said goodbye to this lonely world. I want to be struck by disaster of any form so I can be excused from life and all of my supposed responsibilities. My knee is sore and all I have is this rope I’d like to hang myself with.