I have decided that my life is not one worth preserving. In time, we will all pass. We live in a world of incredible expectation, and we all have plans for tomorrow. That is precisely the impulse for our survival: expectations of grandeur and the urge to avoid disappointment. I have only one disappointment: that I would never have sufficient time to spare the lives of those who mattered most to me. And in that, I might also wish altogether that I had never developed these meaningful relationships, because I wouldn't then need to undermine them by admitting that none of it is worthwhile. I hope that everyone can for a moment entertain the idea that we are all here as parasites, feeding off each other, in ways both tangible and intangible. We are all greedy. We are all searching for solutions to a greater problem we will never truly understand. We are all creating problems and designing institutions to find purpose. We are all inept, and we are all selfish. And my final act will b...