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Aren Whitestorm's Journal
Tyber1231
Itnan, 23rd of The Deep cold, 1331 What is the point of life? Why do I exist? My life is pointless, I did nothing good, I'm just a blindfolded man in the darkness. I am not useful, wise, or lovely in any way. My heart is rock, and I feel pain trying to open it. No hope for me. Irba, 25th of the Deep Cold. Why, Just why? Why do I have to be lonely? Why do I have to bear that pain? I cannot find the answer.  Where is the answer?