Existence.

Things are going in strange directions.

Paths I've never seen are visible, but guarded by gates and Cerberus, roads full of thorny roses.

I'd want to pry open the iron, beat the dog to death and run with feet bleeding if it meant reaching you.

But, I wonder if you'd even know of my existence. For, I only exist when my name is called.

I stay lost even when surrounded by a crowd. I'd forget to speak again, if nobody ever spoke to me.

I exist only when my name is called, for till then I am nothing. I am real only when somebody thinks of me.

As Billie said - I think, therefore I am.

I came across a reel on Instagram, that captures a conversation between two people. The first one says "I am not good at anything - sports, poetry, science. I am not handsome or well built. I have just survived these days, barely". The other one goes on to say "Then you're good at surviving things".

I guess that is one of the meanings of existence - to survive the world. That is the motivation I have - to survive one more hour, one more day, one more week.

Good luck surviving the week!

Ciao!