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Writer's pictureTravis Woods

What you are

Atomically, there's nothing to you. If we press onwards beyond electron clouds, protons, neutrons, quarks, nothing but nothingness awaits us. It's all vibrational waves of energy manifesting the realm of the physical - a cosmic giggle, a dance, a celebration.


Chemically, however, you are something, a concoction of weird stuff that induces feelings, emotions, this trip. You're hallucinating from the ingredients that comprise you, forgetting that what's before you is a reaction from what's within you, what is you.


Biologically, you're an animal, a three-dimensional being of Earth. Your body is of this planet, this environment. It shares features, DNA, and nature with other earthlings, implying your body isn't a separate spaceship carrying you; it's a force deeply connected with all beings throughout the history of organic life on Earth.


Mentally, you're an intricate web of everything you've ever perceived - the mind. You're also an ego. You tell stories, create characters, play out roles. You linguistically format an identity and act accordingly to a script.


Intellectually, you're an alien. You dreamwalk and time-warp between dimensions of experience through fantasy and memories. Because of that, there doesn't seem to be a limit to your creativity. You're a descendent of the fantastic imagination.


Ultimately, you make no sense. You're a mystery we cannot rationalise, for we cannot logically refer to anything to explain existence as there's nothing to base our analysis on; for what is there to reference other than the mystery itself?


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