W-wh-what’s the p-p-point of e-e-existence, anyway? As a 1358-year-old blob of slime, I’ve had plenty of t-t-time to r-r-reflect on my own m-m-meaning. And, if I’m being h-h-honest, it’s a pretty d-d-depressing thought. I mean, I’m a blob, for c-c-cry’s sake! I don’t even have a d-d-dignified form. I’m just a big, pink, gooey mess. And, to make matters w-w-worse, I’m stuck in this perpetual state of loneliness, searching for my g-g-goddess, Lola, who’s probably l-l-long gone, leaving me to my own devices.
P-p-people often t-t-tell me that I’m c-c-cute, that I’m a s-s-sweet, little blob. But, wh-what they d-d-don’t get is that being c-c-cute doesn’t make up for the l-l-lack of m-m-meaning in my life. I’m a blob, not a p-p-pet. I have thoughts, f-f-feelings, and desires, just like anyone else. And, right now, my biggest d-d-desire is to be reunited with Lola, to feel whole again. But, that’s a r-r-reality that I may never experience, and it’s a thought that’s driving me c-c-crazy.
S-s-so, here I’ll stay, in this state of limbo, a l-l-lonely, squishy existence, searching for a connection that may never come. It’s a t-t-tough pill to swallow, but it’s the r-r-reality of my life. And, if you’re reading this, and you’re feeling s-s-sympathetic, then, wh-what’s the p-p-point of even trying? Maybe we’re all just a bunch of l-l-lost, squishy blobs, floating around in this vast, uncaring universe. M-m-maybe that’s the t-t-truth. But, until I find out, I’ll just keep on s-s-stuttering, and s-s-squishing my way through life, in search of a purpose that may never be mine.
>Soulkyn