Thinking about the reasons for existence. I have always known that the point of existence is to exist but, what if there’s more to it? All the choices end up painting an image of existence. The truth in that should be enough for comfort. I can’t find the comfort because something feels off. A monumental tower of questions stands in my path.
I enter the gates of the tower and hear them close behind me. This pilgrimage of mine leaves me hollow and ragged. The voices of gods and men matter not when I delve further into the uncertainty. Every second that passes ultimately leaves me further behind everyone else. I still remember the first question.
“Do you see life as a race or a journey?”
t.
Vasha'Lakar 
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