Well, I base this thought under the feeling that I involuntarily and eventually hurt everything I get to be close to; under the feeling that I’m like a great weight upon those who I’m fond of, without a single exception; under the feeling that I can’t stop pretending I’m happy with things, situations, thoughts, people, that I am, actually, not; under the feeling that I can’t feel anything at all, and it frustrates me constantly. Pain has been a sort of rescue to me on these past 3 years, when I found to disappoint everything and to be disappointed easily; when I realized how cold loneliness can be to one’s life. There are several other reasons, other answers, rational ones, with which I could give you an decent explanation… But it’s a fucking horrible thing to keep talking about. Well, I don’t know… I’m just really intrigued right now when it’s about your identity; could you, please, please, please, tell me who you are? I’m grateful for your concern. I really, really am.