Im done trying to save myself. I always liked being alone, thats what made me perfect for this job, but now that i truly am alone, i have never been so unhappy in my life. I know I don’t have much time left, and thats what hurts the most. People think the worst ways to die are the painful ones, well there is nothing more painful then to be forced to look at your life in your last moments, to be force to see all the things you never did, the things you did wrong. Its funny, this place is so amazing and wonderful, and its about to kill me.
Writing Twelve 
It’s so mesmerizing being on earth, learning about space, it’s stillness, vastness, and it’s beauty in general. Now being out here is a completely different story. It’s been about 3 years if I can even slightly remember. At first it worried me, saddened me, I was even angry. Knowing I will never see any human life or any of the people I loved. I had to mentally train myself to feel like I’m dead since it’s to heart wrenching to comprehend all the bad thoughts. I am literally just a soul floating through space and I’m finally approaching freedom soon.
Oxygen is running dangerously low. Drifting in open space. 0% chance of survival. Life is slipping from my very fingertips. My mind is silent, my face is emotionless, and my spirit is dwindling. My life isn’t flashing before my eyes, my thoughts are just black. Nothing is what I’ve become and nothing is what I’ll remain. As I drift further and further into space, one though comes to mind; “I’m gone.”