The complexities of choice will never cease to amaze me. I mean, I've heard stories about the thread of fate, how our tales are already told before we're even born. But that being the case, where does the struggle of a decision even come from? Are we fighting against the will of the multiverse? If it's all going to happen anyway, why bother with something as pointless as doubt? I think I'm thinking about this too much. That tends to happen when you've been alone for so long.