The existence unique as it becomes too predictable to see other people suffer the same suffering.
Actually my life is useless. I plead guilty to exist, but most of all, I plead guilty to exist without living. I am a part of the heap, a particle in that great mass called society. I am what is called "hot seats", "wasted space" or "a human being."
What separates us from the rest? What makes us special? Nothing, because as humans we are mature from birth to death, Unamuno says his grace as a poet. I wish that another human being, more competent and intelligent than me, had lived in the place I stand now.
But the bias does not exist, neither natural selection nor the destination, even a simple excuse to not feel so empty and guilty. There is only God's providence, "Is it God who put us here? I pray that we be.
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