We live, we die. We experience things, people, joy, anger, sadness, and bliss. Euphoria, streaming through our veins. Rush, sleeping. The kill, the dead waste. What is it all for? I wonder, I contemplate on what's the next move. What's the next meal of choice? Is it something rare and beautiful, something unseen and never heard? It's taste lingers after. The spasms of ecstasy leaving me breathless. I fight for it, the air, the smothering feeling of being able to be breathe is overwhelming. We die. We've felt it all. In the end there's never anything to show for it. Only mere memories of your lasting impressions in those who ever bothered to remember how you ever even got so low.