Frozen Parts

Someone once showed me some different types of artists in their area. One of the artists makes pendants out of parts of butterfly wings; the wings are encased in a type of amber or plastic, forever suspended in solid.

I felt a kinship to what I saw.

That's how I feel. Suspended in a time where nothing happens, feeling frozen. I talk about how we are all connected, as beings, as souls. Yet, I feel outside of it all, just observing. No one really sees me.

I accept this in myself. I accept that I'm alone, and perhaps I'll always be that way.

Yet, I sometimes wonder…what would it be like to feel alive?

Does it matter when it's all an illusion anyways?