do I exist? yes

sometimes when i try to walk across the street, cars don't stop for me. this naturally leads me to deeply question my existence. they may not be stopping because they are unobservant or in a hurry, or it could be because im not really here. sometimes for days at a time i dont talk to anyone at all, and i fall into my head. inside there its kind of grey and clammy and foggy and smells like oriental cooking. it's soft though, like its covered in moss and i can feel things watching me from behind shadows so im never lonely when im there. the shadows are dark and twist and turn like water in a storm. they fight and become hot and scream and make noises like papers rustling and glass shattering and sometimes eat each other. i hear voices too. at times they are crisp and clear and at others they're faint enough to have travelled across centuries. they discuss the purpose of my life and ask if i forgot to lock the door that morning. many times they're voices i recognize but sometimes they're not, and they talk to me about things that have happened and things that will never happen and things that could happen if i learn how to find out what i want. there are lights that float around, changing colours and becoming harsher and softer and bigger and fuller, and ill follow them sometimes for a long time until they become too dim or until the shadows get too dense or until i get too frustrated with the meandering path or until someone tells me the coffee shop is closing or that im blocking a stairway. and that's when i look up and smile and say 'thanks' and then in my head i say 'for confirming my existence'. someone always does that for me eventually, i guess im just waiting for someone who will do it in a meaningful way.