But who watches the watchers that forget how to watch?
Or maybe people aren’t watching me. Maybe I am missing out on seeing the world as I experience it for no reason. Maybe if I worried less about unseen watchers, I would lose less items as I go. My left shoe on that hill. My hat on that tree. My sock on that bench. Well I think that was a bench. It might have been a turtle. My elbow in that lion’s mouth. My shirt. My soul. My dignity. Yes, I must stop worrying about the unseen watchers. For since I never see them, they must never see me. But what if they do? What if they do everything? What if they do everything and I get left out?