Sense of Self; Taken Granted

I am the clamy hands of an old man wearing a cold crown made of devil's gold. I am the naive fool that goes walking in the night. I am the air, the space, the guaranteed things. I am what you take for granted, and what you don't know. I am as much you as you are me. I am an eldritch horror incomprehensible to man. For, the greatest thing you take for granted is yourself. The sense of being you, which you believe you will always be. I am nobody and everybody. Therefore, I am nothing and everything. I am a contradiction that folds in on itself. I am impossible; therefore, in this space, '𝙸' does not exist.