I am me. I am who I have become. Who have I become? Have I become at all? Was I ever born? I came to exist. I know I exist, somewhere between the real and the painless. It's like drifting into sleep, I know there is a point when the transition happens, but to pinpoint it is to rend in twain all logic. The sky watches over me, and I walk beneath as another brick in the wall. Another number. I hope, a number that no-one recognises. A number that is rarely seen. A number that is cherished by some, amired by lots, and criticised by most.