After a time, they wouldn't let me on game shows anymore.
too lucky for the luck-based ones
too smart for the trivia-based ones

Naturally, I turned to crime.

I mean, of course I could use my prodigious gifts to help my fellow
man. And from time to time I have, anonymously or otherwise. But honestly,
where's the challenge, the thrill? We only go around this great wheel
once, and you won't catch me doing anything but making the best of it,
TESTING myself against the strongest and smartest of opponents.

In other times, I have even aided my arch-nemesis, PUZZLING out the most
pernicious problems without even asking for a reward. I mean, in the end,
there truly is no difference between good and evil but the MASKS we wear.
Why should I pretend the great game is anything but that? And oh, how it
vexes them so.

---

The above, I know every morning, when I wake up.

As the day goes on, this is what I figure out:

---

There has been some sort of cataclysm. 
Void, crisis
certain teleporters, white hats and black, able to grab some friends at
the last minute, or just random people.

Thrown together in this world with a history all its own, now suffering
from a virtual explosion of heroes and villains.

---

So why can't I do something about it?
Cursed to forget
Some double-crossed sorceress, or a Norse god, or who knows. Maybe one too
many blows to the head from some do-gooder trying to stop my latest
scheme.

Thusly I put off sleep, constantly. Long-term sleep deprivation would
drive a lesser man mad. I, however, can defeat it with the power of my
intellect.

But eventually, it overtakes me. And as I drift off, even now, I feel it
all slipping through my fingers.

I have to presume I have tried writing it down before. I never remember,
and when I wake up, there's no written testimony by myself to CLUE me in
to the world I know. So I start again. And again.

QUESTION
RIDDLE
KEY
SECRETS
LIES