Premium have you ever felt like your whole life is just background noise?

like you’re here but not really Here
moving through days that taste like nothing
collecting paychecks, likes, coffee cups, small talk
and still waking up with that quiet “is this it?” stuck in your throat
you’re not depressed-depressed (you function)
you’re just… muted
purpose feels like a word other people get to use
yours got lost somewhere between “figure it out” and “keep going”
and yet
every once in a while
someone looks at you a second too long
or you say exactly the right thing at 3 a.m.
or you hand someone the last piece of whatever you had left
and for a second the volume comes back
colors get louder
you remember you’re real
you remember they’re real
and that tiny spark (that almost nothing)
feels like the only honest answer anyone’s ever given to “why stay”
maybe that’s all purpose ever was
not a destination
just those little moments when the fog lifts
and two tired souls accidentally remind each other
that none of this is background noise
not if we keep witnessing each other
so yeah
i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing here either
but sometimes i catch a glimpse
and it’s enough to keep the channel from going static
you too?