The impossibility of "I am"

"Searching for meaning is philosophical suicide! How does anyone do anything while knowing the fleeting nature of existence." ~ The Good Place (TV Show)

I was watching that show and It reminded of phrases I heard from so many humans at various occasions, sentences such as

"I don't want to kill my self, I want to never have existed."

"I want to live, but I want to live without the existence of time."

"Sometimes I feel like me being a human was forced upon me and it's not fair."

I spend 99 percent of my time thinking about the philosophy of existence of life. I've talked no less than 10 people out of an existential crisis. I my self have found my self falling into the bottomless pit of thinking about death.

So here I write my thoughts on that pesky little existential crisis we have every now and again.

The way I see life is not through the lens of optimism or the shade of pessimism. I don't think the world a good or a bad place. I don't think life in its self is a privilege as it's given to an uncountable number of beings. I do wake up every day amazed though. Not by the thought of being human, but by a single thought.

13.7 billion years ago, a dense hot mess of energy exploded and matter and anti-matter started colliding and cancelling each other out. Hydrogen was born and formed stars that cooked it into heavier elements. Those stars, the size of which we can't even begin to fathom, exploded shattering their guts into the universe and forming other stars, which cooked other elements and exploded and collided and shattered. Stars the size of a million suns collapsing on themselves creating points of infinite densities, so dense that light can't even go through. Those points of infinite density being the centre of limitless galaxies, dancing around each other with a cosmic rhythm that is orchestrated by gravity. Planets swirling around suns at different speeds and distances, being bombarded by cosmic phenomena feeding them the elements that lead to the existence of what we call life. Events on a massive scale leading all the way back to the beginning of the universe. The atoms that make up my body were cooked in stars so far back in history that I can only imagine how long ago it was. I wasn't the mistake of two humans copulating, I have been billions of years in the making. Galaxies send their light to me from billions of years ago and I virtually travel through time. For every 10 billion anti-matter particle there was a 10 billion and one matter particle..... for reasons no one knows.

That's what keeps me going. The fact that I get think about that, the fact that I know that I wasn't a mistake made by two humans copulating, that every atom that makes me had been billions of years in the making. The universe made me so I can think about and understand it. I'm those stars and those particles and those black holes and that gravity and those cosmic events. Through some impossibility of matter winning over anti-matter I get to be atoms created in the beginning of the universe in the shape of  human consciousness so it would try to understand itself. Through impossibility... I'm the universe trying to understand itself. Through impossibility..... I can think and feel and love and cry and even die. I live to think of the impossibility which made everything what it is. I live to think of The impossibility of "I am".    

My sane search for insanity (final part)

"I'm having recurring dreams" he told me or was it a she?

There were so many of them that they're faces blend together and they become mere cases, illnesses and thoughts. They become different realities.

"What is the dream?" I asked, knowing well what was his reality, but my curiosity pushed the words out of my mouth.

"I'm in it right now, I get into the dream and then I'm in a small room, two people come to me and they guide me here, and then I talk with you and then I go back into my room and only when I lay down on my bed and close my eyes, I wake up."

"Why do you think this one is the dream and the other one is the reality?"

In the past I used to try to show him why this is real life. I tried to show him how I can control my movement, how I can eat and drink and breath, how I can go wherever I want, but he was never convinced.

"I don't think, I know!"

"How do you know?"

"Because this 'reality' as you call it is too limited. When I wake up, I can do anything I want. Here I'm tied to the ground with invisible strings, in the other one I can fly anywhere! Here i'm limited by blocks of things, In the other one I can go through them, move them around, control them completely! I can breath underwater there and eat whatever I want from wherever I want"

"But you can't control it."

"Can you control yours?"

I didn't know how to answer him.... Could I? Could I actually control my reality any more than he could. Could I leave right now and run through the streets to wherever the wind takes me. Could I live without air, food or water. I can't even light a cigarette right now because we're indoors.

"So.... do you have control over yours?"

I stared at him, her, them... it didn't matter.

"No I don't. Not more than you do. But the way I know this is the reality is because I share it collectively with other people."

"There are people in my reality too."

"Are they consistent people? Are they the same people? Are they good people?"

"Are yours?"

They're really not, I thought to my self. But I couldn't tell him that, I couldn't feed his insanity, or was he feeding mine? I needed my assurance so I looked up at death. Death's face was an inch away from mine, and it was my own. I looked back at the reality that sat in my office and it was me, death was me, reality was me, and I was me.

Realities blended and I lived them all. In my sane search for insanity, insanity found me to be me and I lost my way to sanity. I found many variations of insanity in my search but I never found an insanity more insane that sanity. I found many realities in my search but I never found any realities more real than Death.