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I question life, reality, and everything that is. For not to question is a life I am not wanting to live. What is it that makes us human? Our mind, our physical form, or is it that we possess emotions. Emotions are things that can not be seen, felt, touched, tasted or heard, but are always a constant. Constant in many ways, good, bad, and everything inbetween. We feel life, we feel our environment, we feel. Our emotions can be toyed with, played with, used and abused, but they are always ours. We are the protectors of our own hearts, no one else can carry this burdon but us. This is what makes us human, this is what makes me human.