In which for a second the world makes sense. Not in a way where all the answers we’re looking for, we’ve always looked for are suddenly found, but in a way that there’s no need to ask them in the first place.

Matter becomes solid, the space between atoms disappears, the universe is just what surrounds us, our city, our Earth. Stars are little lightbulbs shining their lights on a dark blue dome with clouds painted on it and I feel at peace, being a person, working a job and nothing more. Existing.

Then I snap out of it and reality is as complex as it has ever been.

All of the connections through my brain spark the thoughts and the consciousness that sees what I see in front of me, that ultimately is nothing and then nothing becomes everything. 

I look at other people at the train station and I know I will never know their little gestures that make them human, that make them like me. I will never know how their mothers used to sit and how they see themselves and how they drink their coffee, maybe black, maybe not at all. 

I wonder how can my brain process all of this information at once and then forget it all: the patterns on tiles, the shape of some crumpled paper on the floor, the colour of the shoes of the person who just stopped to look at the time in front of me. I wonder which app they have installed on their phone, what kind of porn they watch. I wonder what do their genitals look like.

It’s all hidden and its outbursting complexity brings me to the verge of tears as I hold it together to be a person sitting at the train station. 

Holding myself together.