I'm feeling like philosophically ranting right now and I'm not sure what forum topic this would go into... and I don't know if this makes any sense to anyone, but I don't really care.
Why are we here? What are we doing here? Why does everything around us seem real? We tell ourselves it's real, it's solid, it's tangible, it's right in front of us, and yet in a single instant it can be swept away. We don't control the things around us. It's out of our control. It's Someone/Something Else's problem to deal with. Maybe it's not really here. Maybe it's just some sort of illusion. Maybe our bodies, if they really are bodies, aren't real--just some fragile shell that is meant to contain us for a short period of time in the vast, timeless expanse of the universe. Maybe we are all fake. Maybe we've surrounded ourselves with this comfortable illusion of reality, sucks us into the material/tangible world we've allowed ourselves to believe in--that we've allowed ourselves to believe that we live in, believe it exists. It's 4:15am here, and I'm supposed to have had my homework finished, but of what significance is it? Just some useless scraps of a dead tree that someone killed to contribute to this clockwork of pre-invented, imagined illusion we call society. I'm tired, and normally I would want to sleep, but why do we need it? Maybe sleep is just another illusion that we, undefined, truly intangible beings, invented. I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight; I'd like to see what happens if I stay up all day and all night, assuming it matters. Maybe we don't really need sleep. Who or what defines what does and does not need to be done? Who/what defines what is wrong or right? Who/what defines what is socially acceptable or unacceptable, and what right do those who find said concepts socially unacceptable have to tell us these things are socially unacceptable? What would happen if I were to simply walk down the street, away from campus, and keep walking? I would find myself intruding upon some other person(s)'s life eventually, and they, wrapped up in their own concept of reality and what their life is, may or may not be affected by my intrusion, but what would it matter? Would it spark some sort of chain reaction in the cosmos of life? Maybe so. But our minuscule, nearly nonexistent little blue and green planet is on an orbital course--it is just going and going and going. It'll keep going long after we are dead and gone. There is not much we can do to change that, unless of course one happened to have an insane amount of technology at their disposal that could drastically throw the planet off course, or some freak cosmic accident knocked us out of our comfortable solar system. And on the off chance that would happen, what would it matter? At that point, we would either fly towards the Sun and burn and die, or we would fly away from the Sun and freeze and die. Either way, we're screwed. Or we just keep on going. And going. And going [insert energizer bunny joke here]. If I just decided to stop trying, to give up, do whatever the heck I want, suppose I went to or was sent to someone for help. Why would I need help in the first place? What definition would society--that great illusion--give me, or think they'd be giving me, that would make them believe I need help? Maybe they're simply imagined too. And of course I'm a hypocrite. I, too, have become too attached to my own "reality" to simply give up. Or maybe I'm just too chicken to go through with it. But believe you me, I am most certainly tempted to. By now, I've already stepped foot into dangerous territory. Or at least, what I believe to be dangerous. No amount of self-injury, drugs, therapy, whatever we use to bring us back to this so-called reality could erase that unknown possibility that we are, in fact, all a fallacy of some great intangible Being, or no Being at all. But then again, my perspective can be changed. I can believe without a doubt that none of what I said is true, that there most certainly is a point to everything and that we are, indeed, fully present. But belief or no, that POSSIBILITY that I am wrong, regardless of what I believe, is still there. If one can believe that anything is possible, how could anyone possibly believe that something is NOT possible? Because NONE of us KNOW with 100% CERTAINTY what is real and what isn't. We may have the utmost, highest possible faith and cannot be swayed in the least bit, but there is NO DEFINITIVE WAY OF KNOWING WHAT IS ABSOLUTELY TRUE.
I don't know what to make of these ramblings of mine. I've never rambled on like this before. I don't know if they are true. I don't know if my opinions or thoughts concerning the above statements are valid or real. Or if they ultimately matter. I don't know if my feelings on this matter--assuming my feelings are even real--would be considered a problem in some way, shape, or form. I don't even know if I care. Right now, I don't think I'm really here, and that is my world at this present moment, if time actually IS. It is now 5am, and I could care less whether I sleep or stay awake for another 12 hours.
I've found this pure, untainted, ever-present black hole of perpetual uncertainty, and I have no friggin clue what to do with it.