For some time I had held that there was truth in the statement "There is not what is right and wrong, only what is and what is not". Because I had come to that realization that many have, this realization being that morality is naught but a social construct, and where we feel so convicted that something is right or wrong, this is a result of our physiology and nothing more. That as until even more recently, when I made the mistake of asking myself "why?". But first I must explain the nature of this inquiry. I had heard some argue while engaging with this kind of discourse that morality is indeed objective, because we have so evolved to be this way, knowing what is right for the species and wrong for the species. There are many problems with this obviously. First, it is not too long ago wherein we see that morality looked starkly different in every unique connection of people. Some things remained relatively universal, but even then, there are exceptions in some cases. And then secondly, even if this is true, it is not objective by any mean, because I can just say "I do not care" and I am right in my own mind. The 'truth' of a philosophical idea only matters if the truth of that philosophical idea matters to you. Does this sound redundant? Indeed, it does, and this is my point. All of this and much more led me to that aforementioned realization: that morality is essentially non-existent, except as a human created construct, and if you desire to not give human-created constructs any credence, then it doesn't exist to you. But from this stemmed what it is that I have been building up to all this time.

I began thinking about this 'evolution'. I have been told that all living beings came from some very simple single-celled life form some billions of years ago. Now, I do admit that I am not aware how anyone could really know this for a fact, but since it has been touted for as long as it has without much legitimate refute, I have come to think that perhaps it may be true, while I am still uncertain, and given that there is no reasonable alternative, I have said to myself "sure, perhaps this is true". But then the question becomes, where did that single-celled being come from? And if it came from chemicals and formed on earth, where did the chemicals and earth come from? Where did the universe itself come from? I am told it all came from a "singularity", but then how can a singularity such as this even exist or come into being? It cannot have all come from nothing, as matter itself cannot be created or destroyed, we only modify its form. So is the universe eternal? Well, how can it be? How can eternity even exist? A plethora of other problems arise with this! For example, things tend toward entropy, energy always has a tendency to stagnate. We can observe this. So, given an INFINITE amount of time, how can we find ourselves here? The tempting questions are always "when did infinity start?", or "what point in eternity are we at?". Eternity itself does not make any sense whatsoever outside of a theoretical context! It is not practical whatsoever, nor understandable. But of course these are both nonsensical when we consider what infinity is supposed to be. So, my observation of matter being infinite seems to be in contradiction to my observation that the earth and universe scream that they are not! Am I to accept that this is how things are!? Existence itself is contradictory!? If that is true, then there truly is no reason! Reality as a whole makes no sense! No sense to be had! None! If you cannot even see that existence itself is true, then how can you even make assertive statements about it? This is what has led me to solipsism; there is no authority which can say reality is real. I cannot, for the reasons I have listed, and if I can't convince myself that I exist as I perceive myself, then it all comes down. When you assert something as truth enough times, it becomes real. I have continually lied to myself. There is this veil which keeps my 'sanity' (if such a thing exists as we define it) sustained, but when I think about these things deeply, my brain refuses to engage with reality for some time. I am told these are called derealization episodes. I become something like an animal, I don't recognize time or language easily. It has happened before where my mother has tried to talk with me and I simply couldn't respond, because anything I would say wouldn't make sense. This is what happens when the veil is torn. As I live right now, this is my existence, whether I see or experience it by some other means of consciousness, I do not know, I cannot know. I go back and forth between states of doubt as to whether I am right about these things or not, which oddly enough helps keep me 'functional', and states of surety, where I know for certain that nothing I am attempting to make sense of is even real, and that my mind itself is an illusion. I have heard some say this, that consciousness is a trick of our brains. After all, we are nothing but matter. These are profound ideas indeed. But what is a profound idea? I do not know. I leave it. And I wouldn't be able to make true sense of it anyways. This is what I call my only true realization: that nothing can truly be realized. No matter what you can possibly conjure up ideas of, it will always come back to this. Always, until I cease.