When we live in a world of determinism, the law of cause and effect, the effect I have on the world is important and continues to remain important when I have no effect.
When I say things and do things I ask myself after if it was really me who said and did these things. I can lie awake sometimes and wonder if I'm actually here.
Do I exist?
Writing makes me feel human without speaking. Writing makes me remember I am here. I exist. I can communicate with people because I can't in any other way, not without questioning my existence. The inability to communicate takes away what makes us human, and writing a book, a play, a letter, on a blog or forum restores that humanity which has not been taken but never given.
Even when I live in the world I never feel like part of it. I stand on a ledge outside a misted window that I can't see beyond. It is a lonely, and scary place when you are worries about falling. I have already fallen but I am trying to climb back up, though I am tormented by a sleepless doubt that I will never see through the glass, I will never be part of the world, I will never be human.
I am a social phobic, and I write this because it makes me feel human. Because I am, but only in this moment.
When I say things and do things I ask myself after if it was really me who said and did these things. I can lie awake sometimes and wonder if I'm actually here.
Do I exist?
Writing makes me feel human without speaking. Writing makes me remember I am here. I exist. I can communicate with people because I can't in any other way, not without questioning my existence. The inability to communicate takes away what makes us human, and writing a book, a play, a letter, on a blog or forum restores that humanity which has not been taken but never given.
Even when I live in the world I never feel like part of it. I stand on a ledge outside a misted window that I can't see beyond. It is a lonely, and scary place when you are worries about falling. I have already fallen but I am trying to climb back up, though I am tormented by a sleepless doubt that I will never see through the glass, I will never be part of the world, I will never be human.
I am a social phobic, and I write this because it makes me feel human. Because I am, but only in this moment.
