Why do I exist?

Ingen joke her, bare en rimelig dyster og tankevækkende historie jeg skrev her til aften.


Why do I exist?

I know that my name is Lisa, I know you, but you don’t know me. If you are left then I am right, if you are white then I am black. Know that when you are reading this I am far away, though I am next to you. I live on the other side of reality, you are the ‘tick’, I am the ‘tock’. For a thousand years I have walked this world, alone, scared and confused. For a thousand years I have wanted to eat, to sleep, to drink, to live, to love. I walk besides you when you go to work or school, I walk besides you when you go on a date, I watch TV with you, I know you, but you don’t know me.
I walk in the world I once lived in, but know I am but a fragment of my former self. You can not see me, you can mot hear me, and you can not touch me. I can see you, I can hear you, but I can not touch you.
I can walk right though you without you feeling it. I can shout at you without you hearing. I can dace in front of you without you seeing it. But someone can hear me, they hear a whisper when I shout, but they fear my words of truth. I tell them what they need to know to be happy, but they ignore the hard truth, they make the mistakes I warned them about, and when they finally realize that I am there to help, they are taken away to rooms mad out of rubber.
Sometimes I get desperate; I climb to the top of a building and jump, to end my existents. But I am not alive so I can not die. But am I truly dead? If I am then why do I still exist, I know every living person, but at the same time I don’t know anyone. I jump, only to find myself floating slowly back to the ground, so maybe I am dead. If I am dead then I must have lived, but if I have live then why do I remember nothing?
I don’t remember the sun on my skin, the wind in my hair or the kisses of love I hope I received. I don’t remember my family, my friends or even my face. I don’t remember my birth, my love or my death. All I remember is my name: Lisa.
How do you live, no. how do you exist for a thousand years without being seen, heard or felt? Don’t ask me for I do not know the answer. I only exist because I can not end my existents. Some say they wish to live forever, maybe I also wished that when I lived, but now all I want is to end this existence that has claimed my soul.
Am I doomed to walk this world for eternity? If you, like I did, wants to live forever then think it through. Do you really want to live in this world for eternity? Do you really want to see it destroyed by the inhabitants of the future? Are you willing to give away your life, your soul and your memory for the eternal life?
Perhaps you believe that the eternal life is the best thing that can happen to you? Perhaps you think it is fun to be able to walk into the dressing room of the opposite sex? Perhaps you believe that your newly gained immortality and the freedom it gives will bring you fun for eternity?
If you see the light now, you will not meet the eternal torture of life beyond death in which I exist.
If you choose to ignore my warning, I will gladly greet you on this plane of reality, I will be thrilled to have someone to see, hear and touch. And you will be the first person in a thousand years to see me, to hear me and to touch me. For a time you will be happy but in the end, you will ask the same question as I have asked for a millennium.
“Why do I exist?”