If I were you, you might be me, and I’d be asking myself the same damned thing. So try it for yourself sometime, take my shoes, they’re brown - take my skin and live a day for me. Walk around for just a little while, until you see that being someone else is really being you, and the trick to being you is to realize you’ve got no one else to hang on, just yourself, and nobody else to talk to, ’cause everyone else is just too busy talking to themselves. Until you start to think, hey, we’re all gonna die someday, and you wonder what that means - and walk a little further ’til you realize it doesn’t really mean anything, ’cause you’re already dead.