“You know,” I was told, “it seems that a great deal
of your contact with the world
is theoretical.
Like, rather than actually living through things
you think about things.“

I thought about it.
It seemed valid.
I had to agree.

“You work from home.
You compose in silence.
When you go out,
you settle in a corner
and wait for the world to come to you.
It seems like less than a life,
you know?”

I did know,
now that it was brought up.
I had to agree.

“Even dialog is something you can make up
rather than actually experience.”

It was true.
I was living lies.
Something about this had to be addressed.
Definitely.