The days have past when new formulas were still being invented/discovered. "There is nothing new under the sun." Existence is non-specific to me. How disturbing! How selfish! I have lived countless lives before and will continue to live the lives of many others. At least, what I imagine could be the lives of other people. The experiences I have felt are copies. The words falling out of my mouth, just plagiarism. These thoughts have been thought; these colors have been worn. What is a "personality" but a slightly interesting combination of recycled qualities and dispositions (hooked unwillingly into the cheek of said victim)? The streets I have walked are public. This book has already been read.
In this realization, unconscious or unnecessary, we continue to strive for our individual goal (OUR individual goal): the goal of uncovering some new piece with which to happily accessorize the vast, possibly endless, puzzle which we call our repertoire, OUR repertoire.