As well as having life there is something else I have going on. I can't tell you much about it. It's not exactly a place, nor does it exist in time nor does it have much in common with life. The best way I can describe it is metaphorically, by that I mean I can make loose descriptions of things which you can compare to the content you have in the thing you call life. For instance, one of the things I have in this "other thing" is a giant duck with permanently friendly demeanour and an endearing limp. I also have silver grass swirling around on an untrodden mound; the fiercest shade of purple in the eyes of a flying mermaid and phantom caresses on my phantom limbs. There's also a strange thing called truth which pervades each passing thought and there's a place in a park-type thing where good honest people can sit down and do nothing but BE for day-ish type things on end.