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Comments Made: 515
Journals: 5
Recent Journal
Unexistance.
3 months ago
This screen feels real. I see it and it exists.
The other place doesn't. I know it must exist yet it fails convince me.
There are stores that are not. They sell nothing, Nobody comes in or out yet they stand their.
They don't sell anything. They have "things" for sale. Nebulous entities shaped liked objects.
I stand there and look back, counting every thing I've crossed.
I see 7 stores but on closer examination It feels none.
There has to be more that that but it doesn't feel like that.
The people too.
I know logically they must be made of blood and flesh with their own stories.
They feel like paper mache props. If I could reach out and touch them they'd melt and crumble.
I can't touch them though. The universe would stretch out before me to make them infinitely far away.
I would stop and find myself 12 centimeters from my start.
I go to these meetings, these gatherings.
Words are spoken but nothing is said. Endless nothingness made into noise.
I know these things in front of me should be people. What do they think of me?
Am I a similar prop, a non-existent person, standing in-front of them regardless?
I know not if I still draw breath, I feel like this body is a mere puppet.
Where is my hand? My real body. How do I exit this strange stage of nothing?
The other place doesn't. I know it must exist yet it fails convince me.
There are stores that are not. They sell nothing, Nobody comes in or out yet they stand their.
They don't sell anything. They have "things" for sale. Nebulous entities shaped liked objects.
I stand there and look back, counting every thing I've crossed.
I see 7 stores but on closer examination It feels none.
There has to be more that that but it doesn't feel like that.
The people too.
I know logically they must be made of blood and flesh with their own stories.
They feel like paper mache props. If I could reach out and touch them they'd melt and crumble.
I can't touch them though. The universe would stretch out before me to make them infinitely far away.
I would stop and find myself 12 centimeters from my start.
I go to these meetings, these gatherings.
Words are spoken but nothing is said. Endless nothingness made into noise.
I know these things in front of me should be people. What do they think of me?
Am I a similar prop, a non-existent person, standing in-front of them regardless?
I know not if I still draw breath, I feel like this body is a mere puppet.
Where is my hand? My real body. How do I exit this strange stage of nothing?
User Profile
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Salp
Favorite Music
Klezmer and Chiptune
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Linux, Emulators and the Playdate
Favorite Animals
"Invertebrates"
Bryan_Ness_3
Just out of curiosity l, why did you watch me?