Nonexistent

I do not exist. You are not reading this. How do I know? Because the Deutsche Post told me so. I am a nonentity, because I have no papers to prove that I exist.
Deutsche Post tried to deliver a package, and I wasn’t home. So I had to pick the package up, at the nearest post office. To do that I had to identify myself… and, lo and behold, my fucking passport is no longer valid. No, sorry, they said, you are not you. As far as we are concerned, you’re not anybody at all. I said, my God, it’s me, you even know my face, though you may not know my name, we live in a fucking village here; you know me, dammit. No. I drew my drivers license, my health-insurance card, which even has my bloody picture on it, hey, it’s me, I said, c’mon, give me the frickin’ package, it’s a present for my son, I need it, his birthday is tomorrow…! No.
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I thought: this is insane. I explained: If a purple ogre had opened the door when you rang at my apartment, when you delivered the package, you would have given it to him without asking for any identification, and you wouldn’t have given a flat damn if he had disappeared over hill and dale with it… and yet now you demand that I identify myself, though I have the stupid little docket you tossed in my mail-box…? No dice.
At this point they actually were sort of apologetic; they were almost human. They said they were terribly sorry, but the rules stated unequivocally that… and so on.
So, dear reader, I too am sorry, but, since I do not exist, you do not either. After all, no reader exists when there is nothing to read, and since you are reading nothing from a non-existent author you can’t possibly be an existent reader… you follow me. Unless, perhaps, you can identify yourself beyond the pale shadow of a bureaucratic doubt? In triplicate, if you please; then I will consider acknowledging you as a reader. Perhaps that will also help me establish my own identity. I’m feeling sort of uncertain, since my encounter with the Deutsche Post. Feeling more nebulous from minute to minute…
Listening to Borrowed Time, from Jaya The Cat.

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