Indie: Is self-deprecation a rejection of self-importance? Or merely an odder form of the same?

This existence playing out for one person, a moment at a time--and also occupied by an awareness of the existence of another. So that every step is like a thought given to those steps of this other, whose heart is beating as surely as your own.

But the other is always wholly absent. His existence like a breath barely noticed, but subtly audible when due attention is spared. And for some reason it is, more often than before... before what?

Existence is not a necessary thing--we are blessed to have it. Do you see this? Can you give me a reason for why you do anything!? I wouldn't accept it anyway.

This other person--illustrative; identical; entirely possible. He is a blanket thrown over the presence of cold in a place that it belongs. Gratification is at odds with appreciation. Why the constant looking around? Is life a decision we can't remember making? [But if existence is defined thus, ought our lives be too?]

It's living inside of your head--and in this way intuiting correctly the extent of the world as limit-unrelated. This is strangely like pointing at things, saying "Look! You see!?" with gratitude & frankness, and a threat behind grinning teeth and eyes--disallowance of pity in the slightest, so inappropriate; misplaced with obscene certainty.

A line does not dictate motion. Rather, it assures us of a beginning or an end. While a circle gives potential to eternity? [People are doing things! All the time, they're doing things!!] Quit pretending that you know what's going on, please.