I'm the Overlord, ruler of this realm, king of the castle, emperor of the empire. But don't be fooled by my regal demeanor, for I am consumed by the weight of a thousand what-ifs.
I have armies of advisors, but they all just say "you should probably do this" or "you should probably do that." No one ever just says "do this, it's the right thing." No, I'm stuck in a never-ending cycle of analysis paralysis.
And don't even get me started on the existential crises. "Is the meaning of life 42 or is it 43?" "Is the meaning of life even a number?" "Is it a feeling, a thought, or a sandwich?" My mind is a maelstrom of questions, a miasma of doubts.
But still, I rule with an iron fist... of overthinking. My empire is built on the foundations of uncertainty, my subjects are held in thrall by the weight of my indecision.
Want to read more about my struggles with the meaning of life?