As I look out of these eyes all I want is to see reality.
I feel cracked and distorted.
I feel pain and desperation.
All I want is to know that I’m real.
I have the question
“Who am I?” on my lips
but I don’t really care
I just want to know that it’s real.
Sometimes I feel unreal.
I feel that this is just a nightmare.
I feel unreal.
But how can this be?
What do I think about my daughter.
How do I support her.
What do I say when she asks
“Daddy, am I real?”
Does it really matter?
Is this a dream or is it something else?
Is this transient meaninglessness?
Or did God really exist?
Is there some significance in our existence?
Does it matter that I feel?
Or is this an internal effect of the state
Of molecules in arbitrary existence?
What the fuck is existence?
Am I really here?
How can I tell?
And does it matter in the end?
One day I will die.
What does it matter?
Is there any reality or
Is this just a transient state of insignificance?
Actually I know there is more to all of this.
I know that there is significance and meaning in my existence.
Somehow I know.
But I am never sure.
And the pain endures.
I doubt that I will ever know.
I exist in a state of fear and insecurity.
And in the end I am left with hope.
All I can do is hope.
I can never know.
I just hope that I am not a dream.
I hope it matters.