[Felix himself doesn't really disagree with the assessment, insofar as he does feel tense and unsettled all the time. But if the robots want to know why that is, they should go look in the damn mirror.]

I don't feel like talking about anything.

[But it's an empty protest and he knows it. He thumps his head back lightly against the door with an annoyed groan, eyes wandering over the ceiling.]

I don't feel like myself, here. On the island. All this intimacy nonsense, constantly being forced into things. What I want doesn't matter. What I believe in doesn't matter. I have no purpose here. It's like...it's like they're trying to shove me into a box I don't fit into. That's not who I am.