Strangers Than Myself

I look upon strangers with a cautious curiousity, for I know them less than myself, and that self even I am bound to doubt, so for this time that passes trust is found only in sparce spots.
This doesn't mean I should leave well enough alone, this doesn't allow me to hermit myself. I am just as much a stranger to them as they are to me. And without external consideration I may cease to know of my existence in a world filled with others.

But acknowledging this, it still leads me to wonder what I should be doing, it makes me question my motives and whether I even know of motives.
What am I trying to achieve?
But there it is, the greatest fallacy to befall our society, the lie we are given too young and then start to feed ourselves. We are going to achieve something big in our lives. We could do anything.
And given that empty promise, that gives us no direction but the idea of movement, we hope aimlessly that a path will create itself.