Purpose lost, purpose regained

The other day, frustrated, confused, I sat down to try and clarify what I knew.

I am conscious, I wrote.

That's something about which I am certain. It cannot be an illusion, because if it was, then there would have to be something that experienced that illusion. And that something would have to be conscious.

I might be confused about what the "I" was that conscious, I added. But something certainly was conscious.

What next?

Did I have a purpose?

I thought for a while. Either I had a purpose and I did not know what it was, I wrote, or I had no purpose and had to create one for myself.

I spent time thinking about that. Far, too much time. And then I remembered: I've been here before. And before that. And a year before that.

Same answer, every time. My purpose is the purpose of the universe.

Now really, how can I forget that I have a purpose? And how can I forget what it is?