"I want to cease my existence."

When did everything go wrong? Probably from the very beginning. She wasn't very interested in living... Or was she? Either way, traumatic events, one after another, left her not mistrustful but rather indifferent to the world around her. The only thing keeping her afloat is a sticky, oppressive sense of responsibility. Beyond that, she has no reasons to live. Every day she simply exists, without any particular desires. Hobbies are nothing more than echoes of a half-forgotten past abandoned out of necessity. The guitar is probably gathering dust. But it doesn’t matter. She writes articles, critiques, redacts...

Why exactly? It’s unclear. It's just one of those things—habit.

TW: BEWARE! Heavy mention, apathy and depression (probably)