I think I've discovered a startling truth. I regret the choices and mistakes I've made which led me to my present life condition, but I'm glad to be here. I regret getting hooked on drugs, but I'm glad the despair gives me a reason to pray. I regret losing my only real friend, but I'm glad I got the church out of the bargain. I regret not being a social creature, but I'm glad I have my solitude. I regret that I don't have a financially stable career doing something I enjoy, but I'm glad I have my job. I regret being a wreck of a person, but I'm glad I'm not dead. It seems to me that all of my regrets are balanced by something I'm glad of. On average, then, I have no regrets at all. But I'm also not a bit happy. Perfect balance. On average, I don't feel anything at all. I think I don't exist.