"Recall the point of division— from when you started to live and I became the unlived one," said he.
"Was it the moment when I thought that poverty is unbearable?", I asked.
"Or, when I badly required freedom.
Wasn't I already free?
There is no single point. Is there?"
"There isn't.", he agreed. "You see, I accumulated over time. There is no single point from where I started to exist. I, the unlived one, lived through everything you have chosen not to live. You could have written something, something that comes from the deepest of our convictions and serenity. Look at my face, I know that serenity. You could have been a tramp to travel through the mountain passes. Look at my sandals, they are worn on many travels. You've treaded the sunrise by the sea with feather-bedded sleep. In short, you chose security for life over life itself."
"Isn't that normal?", I asked.
"Normal it is, surely. But can life be reduced to the norms alone? What is normal about life, statistically speaking?", retorted the unlived one back. "It is normal to drown, life is in the swimming. The norms are limiting."