"They all think that my life has been smooth, and they think that I should be grateful and rejoice in my happiness. Even my mother doesn't know my pain. It's like a thick scab has formed on my heart, itchy and painful. What should I say? I want to talk to you. Who can tell me? I can shout to them that I killed a lot of people, that I was wrong, and that I should be cut into pieces. They will just think that I am tired from work and talking nonsense. I just need to sleep and start again."
Concept: A moth flies into a flame. It's not that the moth is stupid, it's just that the moth wants that moment of warmth.