Why Am I Here

It wasn't until recently that I began contemplating the significance of life,
pondering questions pertaining to the grater meaning of all things.
I do not know exactly what I believe in or what I stand for in this life I did not ask for.
I take my life for granted, and I am aware of my sin.
I do not crave adventure or strive for success; I do not awake atop the early hours and indulge myself in the wonderful beauty of the earth's existence. I am ungrateful.
People do not enjoy my human or rejoice the presence I radiate,
so why am I here?

Why does God, if there even is a God, continue to recall the lives of many precious souls, but simply leave the lives of the ordinary seemingly untouched?
Why do peers, so unkind and ruthless hearts, attack without fear of the outcome of their harsh actions, taking advantage of the beauty of words and the English language in order to create wounds that lack the ability to then be unheard?
Why can I not sleep at night, due to the thoughtfulness of my despised person and mindset that no one will take the time to understand?
Most all, why am I here?

My heart aches at the lethal barks of hatred I am subjected to while confined within a building for years containing those who reject my creation.
It makes my heart sad, while walking throughout the halls in attempt to blend in with the shadows, only to be the source of the next eruption of mental noise within the minds of those who resent me for whatever reason.
My heart cannot fathom the reasons behind justifying someone's distaste for me as a human being,
and if all these things are true about me that I hear, (which they are not, but might as well be) then once again I ask you,
why am I here?

I do not believe that I was put onto this earth to serve a greater purpose other than just existing.
I am but a strong voice within a sick mind scattered about the interior of a cold shell.
It may be due to my lack of exposure to religion, or the fact that I reject the ability to feel appropriately. Regardless, the point of my being is yet to have been discovered, other than to upset the lives of those who I encounter.
I have made attempt at creating relationships with others, some almost successful, until they boil over with tolerance and are forced to betray me with their sudden exit and antipathy.
so why am I here?

I still am deprived of the answer to the questions I pose within this piece, which leads me to believe there are two possible outcomes worthy of answering my inquiry;
Either I have no greater purpose in life and am awaiting my expiration date, or I am here to figure out exactly that
why am I here?

I find it hard to wrap my brain around the fact that someone somehow placed me upon this planet only to (for lack of a better term) piss everyone off.
There must be some currently unfathomable reason for my existence.
If tonight consisted of my last breath, no sorrow would be felt,
but rather than awaiting my last night to come so selfishly I vow to embark on a personal search to determine my reason for walking this earth in hope that one day I will no longer feel the need to ask...

why am I here?