I think about dying, but i don’t want to die. Not even close. In fact, my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m still here, in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out of it.