I had a dream where I didn’t exist.
I wasn’t dead or lost or anything.
I’d just never existed at all.
And in the dream I was thinking about how I was aware of the fact I didn’t exist….
So in order to think that, something of me must have dwelled in existence’s realm…
And in this dream I was looking at the world.
And I realised I only have ever seen it as myself.
I only ever recognise the things I’ve seen before.
I only get goosebumps around things I have developed fear for.
I try to be empathetic.
I really do.
But I am always, and always will be, an outsider to you and your world.
Rockets fly between our galaxies when we talk.
When you tie strands of words together to form your life tapestry.
You’ll show it to me piece by piece over a coffee or in the cereal aisle at Tesco.
And over time I can get to know that tapestry inside out.
We share our frayed edges and our patched up seams over ‘just one more’ custard cream.
We’ll flash our silk and silver linings on the internet and at church coffee mornings.
But I can’t truly feel your fear, frustration or elation.
No matter how many tears in the cloth I have helped you stitch up in the small hours.
But no matter how much I try to be impartial.
One of life’s peace marshals.
I will always exist.
My opinions are my own,
Points that are influential to my existence are in the end down to my own interpretation.
I am in my own world.
But I can’t help it.
For if my existence had truly retired.
I wouldn’t have views on the fact it had expired.
And I guess that is the best silver lining of all.