People think I have some deep spiritual connection to the purpose of life. And so they trust me with all sorts of things:

Money.

Cars.

Babies.


I’m sure they believe I’m a decent human being.

If only I could prove them right. If only I could salvage a grain of sincerity in the shipwreck of my soul. That would be nice. Because I’m starting to think these people might care that I exist…

…and might discover what I really am.