Living and existing are not the same thing.
To live implies purpose, a reason behind action and thought. A sense of identity. A moral compass. Hope. Joy. Plans. Excitement. Actually being bothered.
To exist is much less. It is to simply be, without direction or necessity. No one needs you. You float through the world like a cloud. People see you but they don’t really notice you. Among people, yet set apart. Alone. The cruel irony of it is the numbness you feel, the lack of control, but at the same time acute pain. People are blind to it.
Living is what people hope for. What most take for granted.
Existing is what I am. I am nothing.