For memories are fiendish beasts. In my mind they beat their breasts, and with their methodic beat, they do their best to deny me rest. And what feelings have I? None, for this body is not mine! When the eyes close and open, another will get to play the human. We're just fragmentary men who will never have standing. Life. Life. Life. What is that? I will know nothing of it. I am neither master nor slave, for I exist only in minor ways. I am bound and yet free, left with no such body to feel.