This some excerpt taken out of something I never finished, like it is tradition. Probably for the better :-)
"Paul always felt alone, like there was nothing worth living for. In some odd way it made sense. He was, he is alone. Alienated. Estranged from the world. Never a winner, at best someone barely getting by. Nobody needs him, nobody wants him. Maybe just begrudgingly, like a burden. Some think he should've died a decade ago, and yet somehow he keeps living. Very much to the annoyance of the aforementioned. It's not even anger really, most of the times, to them he's more like a nuissance. A parasite, or a bug that ought to be crushed. According to them he should know better, too. Like a self-aware insect illuminated by the futility of its own existence, placing itself voluntarily underneath a hovering hand, to be struck down with dignity. Smash! The end of suffering. But despite logic, despite his own feelings of inadequacy, Paul refuses to die. Partially fueled by what could be considered reckless idiocy, or just stubborness. Weirdly enough, there were those rare moments where conventional logic would fall apart, and Paul would feel at peace. There was no sense in it, no particular reason. Just... something beyond logic."