“Who am I really? Am I still the same person if I'm not even technically a person anymore? Does being stronger make me different? Will it?”

“I don't know who I am. But do you know who you are? Does anyone really? What makes a decent person? Does being the same as everyone else mean being better than people or does it just make it easier to look down your nose at them?”

“I know I'm bitter and a little jaded, and mildly enjoy it, but am I a sad person? Am I happy? I plan on being happy in the future for sure, but it isn't here yet. So what does that make me, exactly?”

“Am I a good person? Deep down, do I even really want to be a good person, or do I only want to seem like a good person so that people (including myself) will approve of me? Is there a difference? How do I ever actually know whether I'm bullshitting myself, morally speaking?”

“You think you know me, but I'm not sure that even I know who I am anymore.”

“No matter how you stack me. No matter how you arrange me. No matter how you look at me. I am still here and i am still the same person made of the same things. I regret nothing.”