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What is it that sparks intellect in all of us, the question of existence perhaps? No, it couldn’t be; what could it be that generates intelligent thought within us? My life, as a whole, could be summed in to as little as a sentence, while the lives of others can be extended to the length of multiple books. Do I really have no purpose? Am I really nothing? I wish there was some way to know these things, when will I die and how? What will I accomplish? Who will I spend the rest of my days with? I know of a person who I wish to spend every waking moment with, but could thinks possibly work out through the trials ahead? My life, my ambition, where will it lead me, what tragedies must I incur next?

So here I am, as I lie awake in the morning to this horrible, selfish world. Days and years are simply numbers with no bearing to me. “In existence, exists no purpose”, I say to myself as my body drudges up small remnants of energy from my previous meal to motivate my mind for the tasks at hand. I rise in my half slumber and sullenly proceed to the bathroom to carry out my tedious hygienic tasks. As all of this is occurring, I ask myself, “Is any of this real? What we consider ‘real,’ is that truly what matters? Am I who I am, or am I someone, something else? Do any of the thoughts really need my full attention? What’s the purpose?” I finish my activities, throw on a suit and head out the door of my luxurious 15th floor apartment. All the while wondering, “Why, why do I need these expensive things? Why should any man, or woman as a matter of fact? Do they really have any meaning in our lives?” As I make it out of the building, greeting the doorman upon my exit, I take a deep breath of the pure, yet un-pure air around me. It all seems to come back to me, everything, the entirety of my life flashes through my head, all of the meaningless nothings I’ve accomplished. It all fades, and the world just seems to drift away, for that second, life is great, and then, it goes blank. With no forewarning, my entire memory of the life around me vanishes, and I am left with nothing, not even the name given to me by my mother. “What is a mother, how do I know this entire language, but have no recollection of my surroundings?”

“Alright, rise and shine princess!” shouts the guard selected to watch over the sole survivor of a terrorist bombing until he regains his full composure. Sullied by his recent nerve racking dream, the patient quickly snaps, “Where am I?” The guard calmly replied, “The same place you were when you asked me that stupid question yesterday, and every morning other than it for the past month.” The patient slowly glanced upward, to the badge mounted steadily on the guard’s uniform, the badge read “Sgt. Brian Willstein” and some other random characters that appeared gibberish to the man. The sight of this badge brought a warm, safe feeling into the patient’s cold and confused emotions. “Ah, good morning Brian.”