I am you
There is no me
You hear me,
And I speak.
You feel me,
And I am here.
You see me,
And I am.
It’s black. Filtered light. Grey. White. The lungs expand, sucking in air. I become alive. The eyes open, taking in the light. I become aware. The neurons fire, recognizing my bedroom. I become human.
I am not I, I am you.
I look toward my wife and become a husband. I hear my children waking and become a father. I build my house as I walk down the stairs. I take it on. I become. I am.
Only without you, I do not exist.
I get into my truck and become a driver. I am not a driver, I am the driver, the one. I are many.
I participate in labor and become a worker. I am. Maybe you know. If people listen, I am called their boss. If people do not listen, they are called my boss. But I am.
If I are you, then we are we, and the table turns on its head. The upside down place. We are here right now, you and I, I and I, we. The mirror lies because it only shows us what we want to see. Go and look. See.
What belongs to I belongs to we. Shared. The language means something. Our lives mean something. But alone I mean nothing. As a we our lives mean everything.
So share. Be kind. Share. Respect. Help.
Because when you do it, you’re doing it for you.
Not because I am I.
But because I am you.