What if ?

What if everything we ever do and think or feel was purely the reflexive experience of a vast and indeterminately complex statistical flow of information and energy?

What if the triumphs, successes, errors and abject failures endemic of people and ideas were really only the instances of a much vaster, grander stream of intricately entangled complexity that effectively computes itself into existence both through and as us?

What if everything, including me writing this and you reading it, was merely the glittering surface and sweeping tide of some immeasurable ocean and logical depth for, in and as which we all merely represent transient contingency and passing moments?

What if we don’t actually possess or embody any kind of self-determination other than the games of symbolic perception and systems of belief we inhabit but that actually inhabit us?

What if it is all quite real but also an illusion and finding ourselves here in the interstitial mezzanine between Manichaean certainties and discrete facts, we quite simply fade away into nothing?

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