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Anonymous
2016-07-03 22:16:15 Post No. 8237496
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Anonymous
2016-07-03 22:16:15
Post No. 8237496
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If I’m being completely honest, what is real?
The silent pause, the ticking of the clock. The sound of a train in the background.
These are real, because I perceive them to be. I hear them. If I traveled enough, I would be able to see the train. See the clock. I could touch it. Feel its vibrations as it rumbles down the tracks.
I understand now that my brain creates reality. I know that you do. I know that an entity that can be conceptualized as “God” exists within my mind.
However, I am not my mind. I am nothing. I am.
That’s all there is to it. A silent watcher, the ever present observer. This is my essence.
Now, we all know that time is not real. We get that. However, I still perceive it to be. I am bound in time, which ultimately is a good thing. It allows me to experience each thing individually. It keeps continuity in my life. It is really the spine which holds together the experience of my being.
Now I may ask, why?
This is the ever present question. Considering my brain has the ability to create an infinite number of experiences, why (and how) does it choose one experience over another?
Feelings are real. These are more real than sights and sounds. Those are the surface levels of reality. My body is real. I can feel my body.
Before we had eyes, before we had ears, what was perceived? Feelings. Tactile sensations in the darkness, in the silence. This was our navigation through the complex realm of the infinite.
We still possess these abilities. We can still feel. We just ignore it now, letting our visual and auditory systems run wild, acting like they are the most important part of this.
They’re not. In fact, in this moment, the only thing that is real is now. Now is real.
Memory is really something, huh?
Without this, where are you? You’d just be, here. You would, now be here. You would be nowhere.
