I’m not sure that anyone knows a single true thing. Everything that I once thought was great, original or profound has lost its lustre. My own internal voice does not even feel like it belongs to me. I am aware of it from the outside as well as creating it from the inside. Sometimes I feel like I am merely a representation rather than a human being. I don’t know what is an illusion and what is real. Perhaps life is one massive deception. I seem to be constantly tugging at knots. Philosophy must be the science of madness. It never provides any answers- only endless speculation.