|
I like to philosophize on this topic. Though I can never decide on an answer.
We could be just an extremely complex body of chemicals that work in really ****ing brilliant ways, and when we die, we die. Or we're the exact same thing but when we die, something remains.
Am I a puppeteer or is my personality and feelings and individual thoughts a trick of nature? God, if I knew...all I can say is I'll find out when I die.
Somehow I take comfort in thinking I'm part immortal, that I will always be around. But perhaps that's just instinct.
And maybe after this life there is nothing, I wouldn't be aware of that anyway.
Ah the mind. So fickle. So fascinating.
__________________
I remember when you were happy with a RADISH.
|