Living Any More
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Some people wonder if life is real. I'm not one of those people.
I'm not a boy of such inescapable lack of reason.
But sometimes I question it.
Sometimes I feel like I'm not real. Or like I'm the only real thing. But not me, my mind, my head, my emotions.
I walk around, sit down, stand up. But none of it feels like it's happening to me.
Sometimes, when you're reading, you begin to think of something else, and soon you realize that although you hear the words in your head, you forget them the second after. You can't remember anything you red on the last page.
It's like that.
Sometimes I feel like that.
I do everything, but I forget it after.
Nothing I do leaves anything behind.
I don't feel it when I'm done.
Sometimes, when you're running, and your legs begin to disagree with your willingness to run, and the ground beneath you starts to hold on to you more when your feet press against it, you start to think. You think about anything you can. You shoot for large ideas. You run, and you think. And then, you're just thinking, even though you're running, too. There's just your thoughts.
It's like that.
Sometimes I feel like that.
I'm thinking, and living.
Then, I'm just thinking.
I'm not living any more.