I feel often not just lonely but utterly alone.

burns the candle at both ends while being courted by an angel of death.

discusses dying with a detached curiosity. This is not good or bad. It's just

existentially terrifying.

a struggling filmmaker, an autodidact and film obsessive, who peppers conversations with

hefty themes of mortality and an inferiority complex.

sometimes I make films in my head. I've always wanted to be loved.

my heart is racing and I feel like I'm living someone else's life.

sleepless night obsessing over something that has gone wrong and

has this hypervigilance that extends from a wraithlike whisper.

I feel like I'm running out of time I need to tell people that I love them.

I'm afraid something terrible is going to happen.

particularly predisposed to suicide,

being cremated is my last hope for a smoking hot body.

but you know what? there's always going to be a reason not to do something.

something terrible is happening,

they were spattered with blood.

the lobotomy stared on prozac.

don't be sad, bud.

my darling, there is still time for your life to have a happy ending, even with this.