< It's weird that other people exist
Thoughts like these cross my mind often; I find them grounding.
Sometimes I like to imagine somewhere neither I or nor anyone I know has ever been, where there's very little human activity at all—the middle of the remote ocean by night, for instance: dark waves, the noise of the moiling, in the bare light of the moon and stars. To imagine a scene like this, and to know for sure that it's plausible, that it's happening somewhere, makes me feel at home in the world.
You or I may wonder about who wrote the other's words. Nothing appears by way of true knowledge, but maybe the exercise bolsters our ability to sympathize.