EndGameNYC

It happens.

From my perspective, each of us has an empty place inside, a drive to be more of who we are; mortality's playground. An existential vacuum around which meaning in life is loosely draped.

For me, we are at once wounded and gifted by our very existence. It's the dark moments, the boundary situations and the dread in which existence expresses itself that serve as reminders that we are indeed alone in a vast and indifferent Universe. To act is a remedy; to despair is no decision at all.

Then again, it could be gas.