An anachronism really.

I'm a member of a caste that no longer exists, in a mere prescient shadow of the world in which I'm physically housed. I'm the Prince and the Pauper all at once, and isn't that really the point?

Doesn't everybody think this?

I believe in the human intellect. There is a magic in my world (I hate saying magic because magic means unicorns and leprechaun gold and little tinkly fairies.) that springs from the existence of pluralities. Reality percieved fractualy to itself, repeating and bending. Where belief is conviction and must be insolid. Where (forgive me please) truth is beauty. Where objective truth is found within the subjective.