What are we doing here? The biggest of the questions. What am I doing here in this body? I didn't choose this body, this nose, this mouth, this hair; I was given it. I was given this life without asking for it. It was a big surprise. Who would give such a complex and priceless gift to me, for I have nothing to be repaid for or rewarded for. Which helpless soul has awaken my unfortunate rest, and broke my eternal sleep? Who has called upon me asking for so much in return; that is to live a life. "Begone with the before-life." it said, casting a light through the cosmos. Another one is forged from the depths of worry; me. He shalt be called me.
I was thinking about the curious, tactile senses originating from my insides, and that of the unusual environment engulfing my outsides. I'd arrived. There was no going back now. I didn't know it at the time but i would have to face whatever life threw at me from then on. From the nerve-racking wrinkles of the elders fingers to the dysfunctional depression that'd been brewing for twenty-years. I want to get out of bed but I don't, am I disagreeing with myself? Me against me. We can break the fourth-wall of life, only if you are destined to do so, only if you have been given the life to do so. You have to realise who you are and why you became so. Rest be assured, you reach a point of no control. Now we answer the question; who am I? I am a figment of the universe, and if causality empowers, a puppet, dawdling in the clouds of despair.
