My existence is the riddle of riddles to me. What am I meant for? Who, am I meant for? Why does any of this even matter? Ah, and there it is, my three W’s of life. It must be nice to be happy. To have a purpose that transcends your past. My past haunts my future in the present. So much so, in fact, that I’m rarely even present in the present! Oblivion erodes what little humanity is left in this decrepit soul of mine. It scares me. No, I scare me. Well, depending on who you ask, it was meant to be. But either way, that’s me.