I am the center of the universe
My problems are complex
My thoughts are intricate, my experiences unique
Surely no one else can live this way?
What a cruel realization it is
Such a curious paradox of existence
In the monumental movie that is my life,
Every passerby
Every random person I see for a fleeting second on the bus
Every extra in the back of the scene sipping coffee or reading a book
They are but mere specks in the grand scheme of life
Short blips in the timeline of my existence
Their only purpose exhausted once the scene cuts
Never to be remembered.
But, am I just a speck to them?
What a strange identity to embrace,
To be that one passerby on the bus
To be seen only in the peripheral vision for a transient moment
To be acting as an extra in someone else’s movie.
To me,
I am the center of the universe.
To them,
I am nothing.