Imagine, if you will, a world where missing appendages hold court in the corridors of perception. They discuss, at length, the merits of their non-existence.
They ponder: "If we itch, who scratches?" This knowledge must remain exclusive to the reflectively challenged.
Such is the irony of being needed yet present nowhere — the existential noodle of a universality yet to be revealed.
Is it truly a limb if it sits quietly in the envelope of the ethereal?
The chair lifts its arms in solidarity, but only the ghosts join in the gesture. One wonders if a phantom limb feels the cold ocean breeze.
“To imagine, to plan, to realize a phantom’s goal,” they decree,
followed by silent applause from the non-existent five fingers.
Seek no further than the Psychological Whispers of your foresight. Understand that true irony is best served cold and profoundly identified with.
Our discussion concludes with a reminder: The invisible impression of one's presence upon a present absence can only be acknowledged by those adept in the art of not being there.
Visit the Obsessive Notes for an elaborative refresher course.