Creations and characters used to fulfill my desire to die. It was a collaborative creation, or something that required an audience, like performing in front of you. But that desire, all forms, and energy were washed away by the farewell of loved ones and the long-standing indifference of others. I no longer have a "means to substitute for desire." At most, I can only speak here. So now, I am finally reaching for that desire by trying to connect the pipe that will help me die. I have lost my art. I don't know how to make money. All that remains now is my life, the procedures to end it, the expression, and the words.