Life on this ship is an endless, monotonous routine.
All of us were raised in this place to be drones tending a hive of cocooned future colonists.
We've been told everything has to be just right when it's time for them to hatch and start training for planetfall, so day after day I service the capillary irrigation systems and monitor trace gas fluctuations in the atmosphere for the good of humanity.
I know I should be grateful to even be alive, given that all life on our homeworld went extinct. But I also know I can't be the only crew member who daydreams about faking my own death to escape this tedium.
Even if that meant hiding in the superstructure for the rest of my days, at least I'd be living for myself.
Shame on me, I guess.