Transcription
[Music] I don't have a name, not because I've never had one, but because you've never noticed me. I was there in the gaps between your [Music] thoughts, the flickers of something you almost remember but dismissed too quickly. I sat beside you in empty rooms and moments where the silence pressed in, just before you turned on the TV or checked your phone, so we could go [Music] away. You don't know me, but I know you. I know the way your mind circles the same worries at 2 a.m., like a predator circling its son. I know the weight in your chest that you keep trying to [Music] outrun.
I exist in the spaces you refuse to acknowledge. And yet, if you're still the same, maybe a part of you has been waiting for me. Maybe you've always felt like something was missing, but never had the word for it. Maybe you've walked through life feeling and seen like a ghost in your own story. Maybe no one ever told you the truth in a way that made you believe it. [Music]
So let me say now: you are real. More real than the distractions you drown in. More real than the masks you wear. More real than the expectations you suffocate under. You are more than the mistakes that haunt you. More than the fear that grips you. More than the stories you've told yourself about why you're not enough. I don't exist, but I wish I [Music] did. Because if I were real, I'd shake you by the shoulders and tell you that you don't have to keep living like this. I'd tell you that your life doesn't have to be something you *endure*; it can be something you own, something you live.
But since I'm not real, I'll leave you with this question: If I, a voice that doesn't exist, can make you feel something, what does that say about you? Maybe you're not as lost as you think. Maybe you're just waking up. And maybe, maybe, just maybe, just being that's enough. [Music]