Utterly absurd, and yet we know this with far more certainty than the most well subscribed religions know anything. There are so laughably unimaginative too compared to this reality. And yet, the knowing is also a burden. 😅

This shit gives me existential dread and hope.

Like the complexity of cells might as well be an alien civilization, but all that somehow results in something that it’s like to be me. That’s so fundamentally mysterious, all I can do is conclude that consciousness has to be the prior of the universe. So on the one hand I’m nothing, and on the other, maybe I’m immortal. I won’t know until I’m dead.