You were bored, running out of options. The imaginary world always collapsing and recreating itself in your head. You were seldom tired, hungry or sleepy. You were over worked, under nourished and always on time. You were patient, pliable and unsure. You were a child of the circumstances around you. You were alone.

Each night, you would dream of insipid, but vibrant things. Gods your parents worshipped, office troubles your father had, exams your brother failed. Your dreams were seldom born out of your own engagement with the world. Always seeing the world from their shoulders, through their eyes. As if your own body was an afterthought. As if your own self was a burden.