Every soul that has ever lived and died is my brother; nay, they are me. For what creature does not hope that their journey through hell was not in vain? But, alas, it is. They are reborn into the same reality, which is some sinister machination of an arrogant deity, and forced to endure loneliness once again, with no memory of their previous misery. Every deep and scarring laceration is new and stings dreadfully. Were we just born once, then maybe we would learn to tolerate the pain of living. It is not enlightenment I bring you, and it is not cynicism, rather it is a dire warning: reality hates you.