What is this? It seems to be like a life, but there seem to be some parts missing: those things that the others seem to have, that direction, that purpose, that sense of who they are and where they are going. They never seem to stop, to doubt, to wonder. They seem to walk through this world as though they belong, never seeming to feel like someone who has woken into a strange dream world where everything seems slightly untrue, at some odd angle, leaning away from reality as though undermined by some large void that no-one seems to notice.
The earth underfoot seems to shift slightly with every step as though all this could collapse around the ears with the next step, as though everyone could fall down into some deep pit of irrationality and unknowing.
Yet those others dance on through their lives seemingly oblivious, indifferent, almost as if they would welcome that tumble back into the irrational, that void, as if somehow they would feel just as happy there as here. It is as though they are not touched by this world, as though the universe just lies out there like some prop on the stage of their lives, a mere backdrop for them as they strut their hour upon this stage.
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