You cling to your pathetic life. And for what reason? Those closest to you betray you. And those you claim to protect don’t even know your name.
What is the reason? And soon it does not matter. Soon the why and the reason are gone, and all that matters is the feeling itself. And this is the nature of the universe. We struggle against it, we fight to deny it, but it is, of course, pretense. It is a lie. Beneath our poised appearance, the truth is, we are completely out of control.
I’d imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn’t be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too.