ᗩᗰ I IᖇᖇEᒪEᐯᗩᑎT?
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Am I irrelevant?
Piddling compared to the world around me?
Bizarre as it is, alien even;
that I, this thing of flesh and bone, could possess anything beyond a grotesque, outlandish concept of a
ludicrous, weak judgment of self-importance.

As though I could be more than the ash and the dirt that I came from, that I came from something more; it is to me a preposterous idea.

Yet there are the ramblings of an inconsistent, incoherent madman that is trying to make sense of their reality, but cannot hold onto their convictions, or, to put it quite simply; a ship with no sails.
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