What if there’s no color and there’s no reality? What if we’re not even living? and some giant is having a dramatic dream. A dream so dramatic that we the characters in the dream have built our own lives and when he wakes up, we all disappear? What if there’s no such things as belief or religion and maybe the deities had a wife and even children and there’s a whole lineage that is directly linked to everything we seem divine and have we all been deceived through the age of time? What if the colors we know of are not even what we call them? pink is maybe a smell colony of tiny creatures that exist as a compact form of colorful mass? What if the reason we think a lot is because the brain is actually more powerful than us and just by a thought, it actually made us to beings though we don’t really exist and the world is just a big universal brain with tiny cities like gray matter Town and medulla mall? What if the words we use do not even mean what we think they do but rather are the terrible opposite of how we use them?and maybe we can’t hear the birds speaking because they are actually of higher intellect compared to us hence that formulated a code language that only they understand? and hence we are not as superior as we all thought we are.
What if we’re all characters in a book and the author is just toying with all of us and as a result, we cannot explain certain things that happen in our lives? What if death is actually a posh town that people who just need a break go to visit for the best spa treatments and game drives and don’t end up coming back because the place is too good? What if we’re all superheros but we all hide our identities because Earth is the only place we can not be ourselves? What if Da Vinci wasn’t even an artist but a cobbler? What if all we’ve hoped, lived and think we’ve experienced are just but things made possible by other versions of ourselves in alternate universes? Because I came to think about it, we’re just but tiny threads and fabrics of the universe which technically we know nothing about other than the things we’ve read or heard or seen and what if they’re all made up and at our best moments of imagination, they seem so surreal we conform and seem them reality.
Or maybe, I just have too much caffeine in my system.