In his youth, he would ponder daily the sweetness of death, yearning for its embrace. Yet, he lingered in life, bound by the sorrow he imagined it would cast upon his mother and brother. He felt an obligation to repay his mother for her sacrifices, to earn enough to justify his existence. He believed he needed to be despised by all to welcome death. Even now, a melancholic longing for death lingers within him, fueling his every action with the hope that one day, death will be his salvation. For him, hard work is a form of self-inflicted pain, a cry for care and attention, akin to a child feigning tears to elicit concern from a mother.