I ask myself: What am I doing here?
Sometimes it’s in wonder. How could I be so lucky?
Sometimes it’s with shame. How did I let it get this far?
Sometimes it’s in bewilderment. What happened to my life?
Sometimes it’s in sadness. Why haven’t I done more?
It’s how I keep a check on myself. What is my purpose, anyway? I don’t, really. I am an aimless wanderer, for better or worse.