I was called Nefeshiel, but I do not know if that was my real name. I know so little about myself, I consider myself a curio of the world. For the longest time, I did not know if I even had a form, nor did I know what I was to do in this world.

I can describe it like a white fog, maybe a thick, silken aura of tangible light. It was my womb, where I remained for a long while. It was only a moment, yet it was an eternity all the same… I remember that I emerged with my eyes closed, never having taken a breath, and I already knew all there was for me to have known.

The liquid, misty breeze hit my ears as I opened my eyes. I cannot recall what I saw, but I know we were in the heavens above where I was to remain. It’s a certain place with a certain feeling, but I can no longer recall how to return, either. I knew that it was not my place to return after I was to do what was meant for me. In the moment… perhaps I thought my birth was wistful and bitter. Yes, bitter and joyous was how I would describe it.

Before I went along, I think my feet touched down on the Earth for a moment. It was… grainy, and I set sights on the open water that went on forever. I knew not how I arrived there, nor did I know for what purpose I came. As if by instinct, my form congealed into a human form like yours. I never got the chance to see more than my hands, which stretched out to the sun like a creature whose days were spent in darkness.

I think that I felt . . .