I can't help but think of what I used to be, whether I truly wasn't anything or that came later. My mother told me about god and of past lives, but I didn't remember either one. If this god had any role in my formation, he didn't mant me to know about it. And any previous life must have been dull and forgettable.
Oh, how I wish I could return to my chaotic womb and live again in the realm of uncertainty. But I have long since given up on trying to return, hoping to be called back upon the event of my death.
Though I do not wish to die soon, I will be ready for it when it comes.