Being human is just too difficult. I’d kill for someone to strip me from my skin, dig into my bloody body until they reach my heart, rip it out and then sew me back together. Stitch by stitch, I’d become a loveless body; blood would drain from my body altogether, my veins would twist and then fade, my eyes would turn into lifeless orbs, and my mind would lay comfortably in its grave. Ease would caress me, head to foot. What I’m saying is, everything would be simply painless.