Anxious About Reality

I was trying to guess the login details for reality. Please understand, I wasn’t trying to remember it; it was nothing like that – I didn’t have a clue where I was going with my guessing, I didn’t know if I was in the right ballpark or if I was even in the right continent. I was desperately hoping for some sort of inspiration, I was hoping for inspiration because that’s what I would have needed but underneath it all I knew I was shooting in the dark. It’s even harder than you might imagine because – don’t forget – this is reality we’re talking about here. So the fact that I was trying to guess the login code shows that I wasn’t actually in reality and this is the point that I’m trying to get across. I was on the outside of reality trying to get in and this is a bad place to be. Always a bad place. It’s a bad place to be – needless to say – because when you’re on the outside of reality then you don’t have a clue as to what reality might actually pan out to be; all guesses are equally stupid (equally embarrassingly stupid in fact) because you don’t even know what sort of thing it is that you are trying to find out. You’re the biggest fool in the world! ‘Guessing’ isn’t really the right word therefore; it’s not really the right word because when you’re guessing you always at least know the type of thing that you’re guessing at; we have in this case at least some sort of a chance in other words, no matter how remote that chance might be. It’s a all rather pathetic really you see – how vast a territory this is! You’re trying to imagine what type of thing reality might be when it’s at home but you’ve got nothing to go on, nothing at all. I know I’m going on a bit here; I know I’m banging on and on about the same old point but this is no ‘one-off’ incident I’m talking about here, even though that is I know how I originally presented the issue. That was merely a ‘literary device’ you see and in the end what do we have but our ‘literary devices’? The nature of reality, the nature of reality – how I wonder about the nature of reality and the kind of thing it might turn out to be. If indeed we can ever know that. It’s an exercise in ‘doomed futile puzzling’ that I’m talking about here though and not any kind of noble philosophical quest, which is what it tends to sound like. This goes back as far as I can remember – it’s my theme song, if you like. Maybe that’s not unusual either; I don’t know, maybe it’s like that for everybody – although I doubt it. In my experience people just get on with their lives, they’re not desperately trying to second-guess reality. People are just getting on with their lives  – for the most part – and who can blame them for that? There are a number of different types of anxiety in life; some more legitimate than others, I imagine some people might say, however wrongly or rightly. The form of anxiety I’m speaking of here isn’t the regular old type; the regular old type of anxiety is (let us say) where deep-down you know you’re an idiot and you are trying to pass yourself off as not being one. A stressful situation but not an uncommon one, I would imagine. That’s why we are always looking for a fall guy – someone we can catch out for being a stupid dumbshit and then call them out on it and get a right good laugh at their expense. Everyone else will jump on the bandwagon then you see; they’ll start taking the piss too because everyone else is the same as you are – everyone’s trying to distract attention away from themselves, just like you are. Just like you are. Looking for a stooge, looking for a fall guy. That’s human nature for you – no one is exempt from it. The other type of anxiety isn’t like that, the other type of anxiety is where you’re that afraid that people will find out that you don’t know what reality is and laugh at you on that account. Public humiliation, the usual thing. It always comes down to public humiliation in the end doesn’t it? Is that a crime, not knowing what reality is? I don’t suppose it is. It’s not anyone’s idea of a crime, generally speaking. Peculiar perhaps, but not a crime. Incomprehensible to many perhaps, but not exactly a felony. This painful situation has resolved somewhat in recent years however; the situation has resolved because I have come to realise that no one knows what reality is. Nobody. No one knows and – furthermore – no one cares.








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