Is there any real purpose to our existence? Where will we go when we die, if anywhere? Will we be remembered by anyone? Will we be back for another go-around? I imagine most people ask themselves these questions at some point in their lives. When we are in the autumn of our lives, however, we contemplate and debate these issues on a nearly daily basis. Yet in reality, doesn't everybody want the answer to the question: Who am I, and what the **** am I doing here? This is a tale of eternal love. Yes indeed it is In this story we observe life as it follows a succession of seemingly random...
Is there any real purpose to our existence? Where will we go when we die, if anywhere? Will we be remembered by anyone? Will we be back for another go...