Strange crab

How often are you aware of the space you're in. The people around you. The gigantic amount of emotion and experience stored inside them all. How often are you aware of their eyes. Their thoughts. How often do you feel their presence as a single presence. Them and you. How often? As I sit here and read I realize these feelings hinder my experience of myself. Which alienates their experience of me. I can't just melt into who I am because my idea of them props me up like tooth picks in jello. Perched just above the sand. A strange crab looking thing made by the hand of gods other child. We only play here at night. And soon the sun will rise.