In a solitude called eternity, that is where I wake. It seems strange to me now, as if reality is just out of reach. I am lost. So I wonder. What is life? Or more appropriately, what is existence? What is un-existence? What are we? We must be monsters. Destroying as we do. But still able to feel. We no longer have hearts, but we remember what it was like to have one, what it was like to feel. To love. And more often hate. THAT is our existence. That is what we are. Almost human. To dead to be alive. To fresh to be dead. Trapped in this limbo, so inaccurately named life. It is funny really, living that is. Some people ghost through "life" as if they were dead already. Are we even alive? What is alive? What is it like? Am I alive? Am i? I don't think so. But that's just me. Are you alive? Interesting. You look pretty dead to me. Ha! Your funny. I like you. So… do you know what it means to be alive. I would hope so. Such a silly, sentimental thing. But, don't you want to live? I do. Desperately. I want to live! Even if my existence is one that should not be. I want to live. That is what makes me human. That is what it means to be human.