Limbo

You know how it is, when you wake from a deep slumber, only to fall back into a state of semi-sleep? A state of limbo in between two worlds, where words are breathed and lights are ephemeral.

Everything is unreal, you hear it all, but it is as if sounds come from across an ocean, and you see it all, but everything is non-distinct, shapes that are blurry at the edges. Colours are dispersed, nothing makes sense.

You ever wonder if there are some of us who go through life like that? Walking, breathing, talking, laughing. But to all intents and purposes, half asleep. Or half awake, stuck in the in-between state. A light with a switch that was not flipped on.

Could you tell if he was looking but never seeing? Listening but never hearing? Nodding but never understanding? Reacting but never acting? Could you?

All lost. Lost, the bread-crumbs that lead to their cottage all eaten by birds. Lost, floundering in a dark sea without realising, caged in the confines of their minds, trapped in a prison that they never intentionally made.

Could you help them? Would you? Of course you would.

But should you? What if the only way that they could deal with life is by disassociating? What if existing in a waking sleep is the only way, the only way out. Paradoxically, it is also the only way in.

I wonder if I do sometimes, if my systems shut down and I go into limbo. There are two years of my life, that however hard I try, I cannot recall anything significant.

What was I doing? Where was I?

And, for that matter, where were you?
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