The thing is, I'm dying for some reason. They all keep questioning me—what's wrong with me, why I'm silent, and why I'm dying—and these questions are now the hardest and most burdensome thing for me; I know they ask out of love and want to help me, but I'm terribly afraid of these questions. Do people always know why they're dying? I have nothing to answer, yet they keep asking and tormenting me terribly. There's no need to keep questioning all the time, no need to talk so much. How can I explain that silence is the natural state of a human being?