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My Turn

My friends are laughing and cheering while I’m absently looking at the TV screen, trying to remember who I am and how I got here.

I can’t.
Who am I?

People experience things.
They taste and smell the things they do.
Joy. Pain. Love. Hate.
They feel the things they see and they grow with it.

This never worked for me though.

I feel like a husk.
I don’t live within the world, I live around it.
I do not hold the glass;
the glass is held by me.

Whatever I see fades away,
whatever I say falls silent,
whatever I do has no force,
whatever I feel has never been there.

Sometimes, when the city sleeps, 
I stand by the window, trying to see and to feel.
I close my eyes.
I take a deep breath.
I open my eyes and I concentrate…

I recognise the lights of the city but I don’t see them.
I recognise this moment but I don’t feel it.

What kind of moment is this?

Tomorrow I will have forgotten about it.
Not because I don’t remember,
but because I wasn’t there.


“Hey man”, one of my friends says. “It’s your turn”.

I pick up the gamepad. Won’t be losing this time!