I think about life and death often. I don’t want to die; it’s just the opposite. The fact is, I want to live, but how? Can I live? There’s war on my culture. My men are becoming extinct. I out number them 5 to 1. I want an escape from this harsh reality. I want to love. I feel like I’m at a standstill. I’m trapped under the pressures of not letting anyone down. I feel bored of doing “the right thing” I feel lost but found (but not by the original owner). There’s only one life to live, so much to experience, yet I don’t do a damn thing. I see how everything is the same but then I look back over my life, and when I think things over, I see how everything has changed. Life is passing me by, right before my very eyes. I’m living on a rotating spec, rapidly floating through all of eternity. I can grasp that concept, but still, I don’t know who I am, why the fuck I’m here, or how to get out.