I am the center of the universe

My problems are complex

My thoughts are intricate, my experiences unique

Surely no one else can live this way?

What a cruel realization it is

Such a curious paradox of existence

In the monumental movie that is my life,

Every passerby

Every random person I see for a fleeting second on the bus

Every extra in the back of the scene sipping coffee or reading a book

They are but mere specks in the grand scheme of life

Short blips in the timeline of my existence

Their only purpose exhausted once the scene cuts

Never to be remembered.

But, am I just a speck to them?

What a strange identity to embrace,

To be that one passerby on the bus

To be seen only in the peripheral vision for a transient moment

To be acting as an extra in someone else’s movie.

To me,

I am the center of the universe.

To them,

I am nothing.