A ghost

Sometimes it feels like I am one… do I have any effect on anything? Can anyone hear me, see me? Will anyone read anything I write? There can be an impulse to do something crazy, absurd, drastic–just to see if anyone notices you are there. To see if anyone looks up from their phone for a moment. To see if it’s possible to leave the railway you’re rolling down and go in some unpaved direction. But can it be done? Or are we set to ride the tracks set out before us all the way to our grave?

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