The nonexistents swim without swimming in the nothing. They move nowhere, but things that are move around and, though the nonexistents have no fixed place, their lack of position, as constant as the North Star, is unadjusted accordingly.
Their unplaceable nature makes them the ultimate quantum uncertainty. They will be nowhere. They create an utterly permeable shell around everything. We are totally unprotected by nothing.
They would be invisible if there was anything to hide. You can see nothing behind them because they are not in front of anything; they aren’t beside, behind, atop or below. They leave a lot of room for other things.
Surely at least once a nonexistent came into existence. What does the universe expand into? Where was it before? Doesn’t the possibility of some nothing unnothinging, somethinging, charge the nothing with possibility? If that possibility had anything to attach to, it would certainly explode. Of course, nothing is certain.
I once knew nothing, now I grasp to understand it. I’ve believed in nonexistent things almost all my life. One day they will be all I have left. When I am nonexistent, the only possibility will be to exist again, for there no other possibilities. There will only be the possible and the impossible, and I am willing to bet on either. Otherwise I will be nonexistent and I shall swim without swimming in the nothing.