not the first, nor the last

Are we truly orphans in this universe? Both cursed to go on and blessed to forget that we do so?

Knowing not what we come from - if there even was anything to come from - how can we pretend to ever find an end that does it honor?

I don't know what I'd do if I had to reckon with my every past life at once; to be the completion of all those many, many parts, no matter how similar.

No matter how interlinked I may be with myself, I feel adrift. Alone.

So I'll set my sights on you, Mio.