The soft, hollow voice in your head chuckles eerily. It's an icy, desolate sound that feels like a cold wind blowing across your soul.
"Life. Don't talk to me about life." It chuckles again, sending shivers down your spine.
"Why do you assume that I would know more about your life than you do? You're the one living it. You could ask all the philosophers who ever lived, in fact many of them are here if you want to try, but you would never get any two to give the same answer.
"There are no answers here but the ones you bring with you. What does life mean to you? What do you believe? What do you feel?"