at least, not to me.
And I do not exist, to you.
I can't picture your face or body or voice. Your presence is something I have not experienced - or, at least, I'm not aware of the experience.
You've lived a life, experienced love and hope and sorrow and hardship, but to me this means everything and nothing.
The path you took has somehow led you to this text.
So, in essence,
Although I don't know you, I'm connected to you.
Although you've never met me or touched me or asked me anything,
You are connected to me and I might be answering your questions.
All this seems to pose a familiar question:
"If a tree falls in the middle of the forest, and there is no one to hear it, does it make a sound?"
Rather, "If you are living a life, and I am not there to see it, do you exist?"
With the understanding of hardship, I do feel sadness and worry for those I haven't met. For the ones lost in war or poverty or depression.
Am I aware of their existence, or am I projecting my own experiences into the world and - in essence - only feeling sad for myself?
I am Lion; Hear me roar.