Cars run on dinosaur juice. Stories run on sparks and metamorphoses. Humans are a strange breed – animalistic machine, mechanical animal – and humans run on food/water/oxygen and checking accounts and something more. We know there is something more because we have seen them, these humans full/thirstless/breathing the wind and burning dinosaur juice in Maseratis, esteemed & invincible, svelte lips frowning peevishly at nothing.
We know there is something more, and it is not love, because if it were love then mother-of-three, married & successful, stable suburbanite errand-driving thirty-nine-year-old women bathed each day in the giving and receiving of 24-karat love would not sit upright and alone on high-thread-count blankets at 3:47 a.m. searching the strands of their personal histories for the hidden catastrophe that makes them feel dead, empty and dead, without the words to say what it means to feel empty and dead. There is something more and it is not God(s) because I have it on good authority RE: faith hope and the aforementioned, that the greatest of these is (etc.), and therefore by the transitive property of intangibles, ergo, ipso facto, quod erat demonstrandum. Which reminds me, it is also not Science/Logic/Philosophy/Reason/Owning Lots Of Books unless you prefer on cold August days when confronted with ecru-painted walls and efficient air conditioners (and the visceral epiphany that Reapers grim and otherwise come not just for great-uncles and people on glossy magazine covers but yes, you too) to be comforted by the wondrous vastness of the multiverse and the elegance of Zermelo–Fraenkel axiomatic set theory.
And so there exists something nameless which burns invisibly, but if extinguished manifests itself in an assortment of symptoms, namely: 1) the failure of synapses to pass on one to another certain convictions RE: life, liberty, and the pursuit of (etc.) 2) systemic breakdown 3) the contemplation while seated on couches of nothing in particular excepting the perception of a physical entity 0.8 cm in thickness coating the occipital lobe interfering with synapses leading to certain concomitant phenomena, namely: 1) and 2). From this we deduce that the care and feeding of invisible fires burning back an invisible darkness should not go unattended and hence we may reiterate with more than our usual conviction: have a nice day.