I need to know myself better. It's never known, always a mystery. A manuscript detailing the destruction of the ego. Alive and well. Alive and well. Believe me, I've been there. I've lived in your shoes. That's the life of a variable. A varying entity. You'll never know for sure, that I can promise. This circular reasoning has been driving me mad, and I can't wait to spend an entire night in your arms. More or less, we're stationed in a flawed system of haptics, no desire to break free, no, I never felt the need. Remember when you stabbed me with a sword? And I let it happen, because I thought it was good for you.