What am I?

What am I meant to be?

Why am I constantly in a bewildered state?

Why am I immune to reality?

Why do I sense irrelevance within my words and thoughts?

I'm trying too hard.

I'm not trying enough.

What do I need within?

I thought I had it, but I don't.

Why am I alone?

Why do I keep thinking of being by myself?

I try not to think about it, but this state of involuntary isolation claws at me.

Why do I wander?

Why do I ask these things?

Why am I here?