Today is the sort of day where the sun only comes up to humiliate you.
Don't do this. I love you. Don't shut me out.
Anybody's true nature is bullshit. There is no human soul. Emotion is bullshit. Love is bullshit.
I just don't want to die without a few scars.
Someone bent on suicide won't have much sense of humor left.
It's so quiet this high up, the feeling you get is that you're one of those space monkeys. You do the little job you're trained to do. Pull a lever. Push a button. You don't understand any of it, and then you just die.