End?

Lucifer, is that it? I feel that I have reached the limit of my usefulness, that there is nothing more that I can do. I provide no insight, no new knowledge, no words of comfort, no sourse of inspiration. I provide nothing. Not one solitary useful thing. All I seem to do is aggrivate, grate, abrade, cause annoyance, frustration. And the taste is bitter. For what is the point of my existance if instead of giving some pain relief, all I do is scratch the wound and remove any possible healing scab?
So, do you see any purpose in my continued existance?


I have never seen purpose in your existance in the first place, let alone in its continuation.