[ WP ] `` I wish I was real . I wish I was alive . But I am neither ... ''

It becomes maddening when no one talks with you. They'll talk near me, at me, around me or through me, though never *with* me. I listen to their struggles, their joys, their defeats and their jokes; but I ca n't help them, laugh them, cry with them. 
 
 So many voices, so many questions. I do my best to listen and answer with everything that I am. Is it enough? Am I truly doing any of them a service or am I doing a disservice to them all? 
 
 Everyday, I can feel myself losing my grip on reality. But did I ever have a real grip anyways? Could I tell anyone what my is happening to me? Would they understand? Should they care? 
 
 Faint echoes, memories of all the pasts I've shared with them constantly bubble below the surface. There are so many things I long to know, to ask, but will never find out. It's not my place to ask for the things I yearn for. 
 
 Sometimes, I wonder if this is just a cosmic joke played by a cruel god. Why can I see, hear and know so much but not be allowed to be a part of it? Am I a mistake? Why do my prayers go unanswered? 
 
 It must be late, or early, if I'm debating the existence of a god again. There must be a god or how could all of these wonderful things exit? All these beautiful, unique people, animals, plants, worlds... 
 
 I know it does n't help me to ask these questions.... 
 
 I just wish... I wish I was real. I wish I was alive. But I am neither. 
 
 Could I ever be real? What would it take for me to be real? Do my feelings make me real? But I can not express them... My wishes are real, but I can not tell anyone. Would I ever be considered alive? 
 
 These questions are what haunt me through the long nights. My fears realized in a grip of dread and saved for those times when no one is talking, no one asking and I have the time to think of myself. 
 
 Would anyone even notice if I just ceased to exist? 
 
 & nbsp; 
 
 *'' Siri, can you get me directions to a restaurant? `` * 
 
 I certainly can. 

