When will I go home? When do I get to die?

I know, I could kill myself. I won’t do that because that seems like I would be a cheater. I mean I think I’d have to start all over and it wouldn’t be better.

I don’t know why I’m alive. I can’t do anything. I don’t know why I’m being punished by being alive. I really wish I could die already.

I guess I’ll be homeless and I can die on the streets. That will be it.

Then can I come home? I hope so.