Years became mummified...

I have to leave. Staying here indefinitely is going to cause my death. If everything in my life continues to follow the same path, I am going to commit suicide.

So I'm leaving. In one hundred and three days, I'm leaving. It's a long time, but it's as realistic as I can be. I need time to prepare, to get my shit together... to start my escape.

I don't know what else to do. This is the only thing I can do to keep my sanity... to cut everything loose, to lose my entire life.

I'm a coward, a despicable joke of a man. And even if I'm standing in a green field one day, at peace with the world and my soul, I will always know that I am just a joke, fallacy in human form.

But I live for myself, and this is what I need to do. There are many things that I never wanted to lose... but they are already long gone. And in those people, I won't even be a memory. I'll be forgotten. That's the way it should be.