Broken people are like roaches. They're festering, insectile carcasses trapped in the muck of their own sticky-paper-trap misery, and they want to will you on to join them in the muck of putrid adhesive shit. They're too weak to bear the pain and break away, so they just rot there. They never worn their brethren about it, because they need you to be trapped with them so they don't decay alone in the adhering misery. You gotta rip a few antennae to get away once they get you there, but it's worth it to not be a part of a big festering strip of roach carcasses. Getting away hurts like fuck, but the appendages grow back. I promise!

May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house.