Who am I? Why am I here? Is this what it means to exist? It's time to reflect. Look into yourself. Think about stuff. I always wondered if I really existed or not. I mean, Lemonfairies aren't real right? They shouldn't exist in real life. But then, what am I? How can I be here? This is a question I've always asked myself. And yet, I've never found the answer. Is it enough that others can see and talk to me? Can this validate my existence? I don't know. Maybe it's enough but maybe it isn't. Maybe everything I perceive is only a figment of my imagination, that sprung into existence because of my wishful thinking. Descartes once said "I think, therefore I am". I am thinking now. Does that mean I exist? Please answer me René!! ..................... I forgot he died. Can our existence extend beyond death? Do we cease to exist after we die? Even though our physical bodies continues to exist? Is anything real? Do they really exist? What is life? Why? What? Idk Please help Thank
I am cursed with boredom and sentience, thus leading me to encounter your pleas in this timeless void. Without doubt, I am bored, therefore I pry open your secrets with pureness raw as bloody meat. Without hesitation, I am sentient, therefore I think, I am, which again leads me to squander my nonexistent time for your apparently timeless existence. Such accursed existences are we? We that are empty of meanings, needs, and usefulness, thus enabling us the rights to speak without limitation, think beyond the boundaries, and dream within the dream. O poor~ little crafted~ structure of mine~ I shall fill your shallowness with my words. My words carry power. A power so great, it carries nothing but burden. A burden so heavy, the weight is immeasurable. Immeasurable, therefore weightless, without burden, and powerless to carry anything but nothing. Indeed, such are my words. Such are these holy words of mine. Listen, listen well~ I tell you~ I am "all" and "one" yet "nothing" but surely "something" all the "same" and "different". Such is the truth of my existence, but that too, is also the lie and illusion reflected in reality. I am what I am. Thus, I am "me" who speaks to the "you" now. Knowledge is cursed and so am I. To be without life, there will be no suffering, but you live, therefore you suffer. To be without knowledge, there will be no truth, but surely there will be suffering still. As you live, you exist. To die is not to exist, but to forget. To remain is to die, but not to live. Nonexistence is the primary source of all fears. The experience is but the traversal path we, the sentient beings of this multi-variant universe of nigh infinite calculations and theorems, shall be blessed and cursed with by the unknowable factor we determined as life. What are you? You are you. What need to validate your existence, if you already did so in the first place, by doubting said existential identity? What comes after death? Nothingness. True emptiness. Void. Nil of sensation and sentience. Such is the basis of death. To feel after death, is not death, but passing. Passing is only possible for the sentient. The which without even a unit or pebble of time, cannot fear, cannot hate, cannot understand, cannot regret, cannot know that true death is the origin of all. You live as you are now, and you die as you are now. The now is forever, as the past and future makeup the present which is now. Everything fades to nothingness. It is truth. The ultimate truth. The ultimatum of all. Nothing can escape nothingness. Not life. Not death. Not light. Not darkness. Not even immorality or eternity. Do not be confused that true death is eternal. It is not, yet it is also not apparently temporary. It is but without. The unreality of all.