Greetings from the world of life, liberty, and leeks. I bring salutation and solids. I wish only peace and pears. Take me to your leader and liver.
I don't know why I wrote that. Or why I am writing this. Is it because my sociopathy demands that I impress my thoughts and feelings upon others? Is it a selfish desire for acceptance and fulfillment? Or do I simply enjoy words, and the beauty they create?
I don't know the answer to these questions. I could say that I "know," but I would have no proof that my statement is anything more than my own deluded opinion. So, in this way, is it possible to really "know" anything at all?
These and other such questions have been plaguing me for the past few minutes. How quaint.
In this same vein, how do I "know" that I am actually awake right now? For all I know, this could be a dream, a projection my mind creates to protect me from some sort of physical trauma I've experienced. I could actually be lying in a hospital bed, deep in a cerebral coma.
But even that may not be what it seems! That may be the world I call "reality," but is it really the basis of the universe? Is this dimension what is truly the foundation of all others? Or are we just a backwards, incomplete framework, like our own first dimension?
These are heavy thoughts, I know. Perhaps once I begin my soccer game, such confusing musings will mosey out of my mind. If that soccer game is actually happening...
