Many define the world by extremes, such as black or white, or they may go and blend them to create grays. But, as humans, we cannot possibly begin to fathom what the world actually is. The world that we know is that of our own, our experiences, our memories, our discoveries, ourselves. A whole world is stored in oneself, and as such, what the 'world' actually means is what we are. We are the world. We can't know what the actual world is like, because we are closed in ourselves, in our world.

If one wants to discover the truth of something they've not seen, the only method to do so is to believe in what you want to. Looking for evidence is futile, not because it may have been tarnished but because what your eyes see may be tarnished in itself. If you go out and ask someone for the truth, they will only be able to give you theirs. Nowhere to be found, the actual truth becomes invisible; so, in the end, it all devolves in what you want to believe as truth, in the love that you feel towards that which, even if you couldn't see, you want to believe in.

I'm liquid, ever-changing. If I were to count the times I lost myself to be born anew, I'd have to create an infinity more of universes, none able to contain my wholeness. Tell me, who am I?

Is it selfish to imagine that those who are no longer here despise me?