I believe, that I’m writing an essay. That’s what I’m doing, right? Reality only has some answers. I wonder what they are? The only thing I know for sure is that I am writing an essay. Logically, at least that makes sense. What if I am not in control? It feels like that sometimes.
Reality is so confusing. The only reason I remember the past is because of memories. But what if they are fake? That would mean my life is a lie. At least, I know I’m writing an essay. Unless my fingers have a mind of their own. He scratches his butt with us too much. I quit! Great, now I have to do that quitters’ work; stupid union. At least, we get a health plan. Well, the butt scratching cancels that out.
Reality, is the most confusing thing I can think of. It feels like an online RPG (Role Playing Game), where you have to work super hard, but everyone else is using cheat codes and the guy controlling me can’t find them. The cheat codes work so everyone gets all As and can make it to the NBA. That just doesn’t make sense.
I only know that I am 13 years old and I am in the 7th grade. Besides that, I don’t really know squat for sure. Reality only has some answers. Occasionally, some one pulls off an impossible feat. Like making a device that lets you legally download music and movies onto a very small computer. You can also use that same device to call friends and surf the web. This may seem impossible, right? Well, it happened. That is totally proof that this is a video game.
If I am writing an essay and this is not a huge video game, I’m relieved. But what if it’s not? What if I am a high tech sim? Or maybe I am a digital simulation. Or something worse. What if reality is just some guy’s dream? Would I be writing an essay? I guess I still would. Until I’m done with the essay. Or when the dream ends. Until then, life will be confusing. Fingers rule!
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