where nothing began

A life where nothing happened, all the possibilities remained possibilities. Is such a useless life even necessary for the development of the human race? Why does one have to live? Does such a thing like unconditional love exists? Why is there always a bigger fish? The protagonist probably cannot answer any of the questions. He seeks rest, if just for a couple of moments...

I used to right this "story" in a piece of paper little by little everyday (some days I forgot).
But the papers were piling up, so I am just gonna archive it here, so someday in the future if I die this remains, somewhere on the internet and gets founded by someone ...