Why is it always when I must sleep that I can't?
Why do I ask my most important questions to the void?
Why have I never written about the time my sister and I were nearly abducted by a crack whore in Colorado Springs?
Why have I never written about my encounter with the real devil in the green suit?
Why do the people I admire care so little about me?
Why am I oblivious to the people that admire me?