Why the heck was I born?
What the hallelujah (why use 'hell' just to fill the sound and grammar sequence huh?) is the point of life?
Would me and the world have been better off without meeting each other?
What the scale-of-the-taloned-claw am I doing amongst these homo sapiens?
But then even in the deepest valleys of depressive thoughts I have this springy brook of funny sparks bobbing up out of nowhere.
Q: Why is the most important decision of a persons life never in the person's hands? The decision as to whether the person should be conceived and brought into the world.
A: Because when the decision was made, the person had no hands!