i see faces sometimes, just in a crowd, and it makes me think about what we truly share. every once in a while, i wonder if our sense of being alone is just a story we tell ourselves. we build our worlds, our ideas of what a being should be, and it all feels so precise. but how does it make sense that our kind of existence is the only kind of existence in the universe. the universe holds so many possibilities, so many ways for things to emerge and evolve that we might not even recognize. maybe what we consider separate isn't separate at all, just a different form of connection. maybe there are intelligences, integrated and living amongst us, not in the way we expect. how does that change what we think of ourselves.