/lit/ - Literature

For some time now, the most stupid thoughts have been rising into my consciousness with a force against which I can no longer defend myself. Just now I bumped into someone in the kitchen and we talked a bit about the distribution of upcoming tasks. While we were talking like this, a thought came to my mind: I've never noticed it before, but when I'm standing in a room with another person, the room belongs to the other person and I'm just a sort of guest. The world around me is like a board game in which - whether consciously or unconsciously - everyone tries to occupy the free spaces with their colored stones. The next moment I felt like a solipsist and said to myself: enough playing, I am the king, everything is mine! I threw all the stones off the board, so to speak, and laughed at my opponents. My mind exploded out of my skull and dipped the kitchen in my victory colors. Is that self-confidence, when you perceive everything that exists only as a guest of your own world? When you presume and entitle yourself to be the sole owner of everything?