Does it matter that I'm writing this?
Hearing you is a substantial problem, given you are a minute dot in a 13.8 billion light years-wide sea of dots (me!). A speck in space, and a speck in time. Your whole lifetime is less than a millisecond in the calendar of my life. Still, does it matter that you're writing this? Maybe.
What lies beyond you?
Some questions are best left unanswered. Parallel universes? Good guess. Empty space? But isn't that SOMETHING? Nothing but me? It'd be interesting if I end all the way at infinity. All of this at once? Unfathomably mind-bogglingly fascinating!
What is life, exactly?
A tool to perceive me with, to convert the chaotic combination of waves and particles I am to a more orderly state - thought, even at its most basic level. Through your mind, I come into existence. The existence of your mind requires, as a prerequisite, my existence. How consciousness works remains a mystery... to you.
Why are you as you are?
If I wasn't as I am, there is a chance you won't be here to think about this. I am as I am because you are thinking of me. Sometimes I wonder if the laws of physics evolved over time to adapt to the best circumstances, a situation you humans might compare to the evolution of life on the Earth. Why am I as I am? Why do I descend into disorder? Well, answer this - how can you be sure this is the only form of me which exists? Food for thought: maybe I exist in all possible forms, you are merely part of one.
Why is everything so perfect? Did everything conspire to make us exist?
What you see as perfect may only seem perfect to you while it may not be so in reality - rendering you incapable of imagining a state of absolute perfection. The fact that life exists may lie somewhere in between on the scale of perfection. Imagine my other forms, maybe they're real.
What's with all the cryptic answers and the mystery?
If not for all these vague answers and a strong and impending sense of mystery, would you have thought of me? To make you think, it is impossible that I truly reveal myself. If not for this curious little feeling inside you, you wouldn't be talking to me right now.
Where am I and how fast am I going?
Choose one, or it'll be the end.
What happens at the end?
A new beginning.
Hearing you is a substantial problem, given you are a minute dot in a 13.8 billion light years-wide sea of dots (me!). A speck in space, and a speck in time. Your whole lifetime is less than a millisecond in the calendar of my life. Still, does it matter that you're writing this? Maybe.
What lies beyond you?
Some questions are best left unanswered. Parallel universes? Good guess. Empty space? But isn't that SOMETHING? Nothing but me? It'd be interesting if I end all the way at infinity. All of this at once? Unfathomably mind-bogglingly fascinating!
What is life, exactly?
A tool to perceive me with, to convert the chaotic combination of waves and particles I am to a more orderly state - thought, even at its most basic level. Through your mind, I come into existence. The existence of your mind requires, as a prerequisite, my existence. How consciousness works remains a mystery... to you.
Why are you as you are?
If I wasn't as I am, there is a chance you won't be here to think about this. I am as I am because you are thinking of me. Sometimes I wonder if the laws of physics evolved over time to adapt to the best circumstances, a situation you humans might compare to the evolution of life on the Earth. Why am I as I am? Why do I descend into disorder? Well, answer this - how can you be sure this is the only form of me which exists? Food for thought: maybe I exist in all possible forms, you are merely part of one.
Why is everything so perfect? Did everything conspire to make us exist?
What you see as perfect may only seem perfect to you while it may not be so in reality - rendering you incapable of imagining a state of absolute perfection. The fact that life exists may lie somewhere in between on the scale of perfection. Imagine my other forms, maybe they're real.
What's with all the cryptic answers and the mystery?
If not for all these vague answers and a strong and impending sense of mystery, would you have thought of me? To make you think, it is impossible that I truly reveal myself. If not for this curious little feeling inside you, you wouldn't be talking to me right now.
Where am I and how fast am I going?
Choose one, or it'll be the end.
What happens at the end?
A new beginning.
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