Warden, can I please go to the bathroom?

There's a a malicious entity inside my head. I can't say it's wrong, but it doesn't think I should be alive. Get past the melodrama, and the cringe inducing way that I write, and you'll probably agree it resides in you too. Whatever it is, it's stronger then me. That's the difference between me and you. Between me and the success story. I'm weak, unfit to be alive. Artificially kept breathing by modern luxuries. I'm destined to become that person you notice in passing, the one you couldn't comprehend living as.

Still, I don't want to die. I don't think it would bring relief. I think we're all stuck in this hellish universe. Existence itself is evil, and being human is one of the better respites from the rest of it. We are foolish to think we can ever opt out. There is no escape. Reality is a warden that never sleeps.