My Fish Theory (a.k.a. My Reality Theory)

actually it’s 3:12:?? AM

Every time I start thinking about reality and what it really is I get caught up in the circularity of it all and my head starts spinning and I start looking like some character I can’t quite remember from a classically cheesy horror flick.

No, that’s not what I was trying to say. It’s late, forgive me. Whatever time my blog recorded, that ain’t it! I just don’t feel like waking up my fam to blog at 3 AM.

Anyhow, back to my fishy reality theory. I think that maybe I’m just a fish. A fish, not a person. This whole person thing is imagined. I’m a little fishie floating around somewhere, maybe in a pond, maybe in an ocean, maybe in a toilet bowl. And I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming that I’m a person. A person who plays and works and blogs senseless ramblings that may actually be the truth. And what about all the other peeplz? Peeplz like youz? You’re imagined, too. I, with my little fishie brain, imagined you. Eh?

But perhaps you imagined me? Perhaps you’re the little fish. You’re the little fish who imagined a person to blog the truth that you know back to you. Is it more palatable that way? Can you believe it now?

Or what if we’re both imagining? What if each “person” in the world is really a fish, and our society is the result of the collective imaginations of the fishie population? No, that’s far too complex. Sounds almost Matrix-like. Not for its complexity, but because there would surely be a major scientific flaw that would render such an idea impossible.

I ponder this theory on my really bad days. When things suck I try to find ways to convince myself that reality doesn’t really exist. That this is all a dream and I will wake up to my fish flakes or plankton or what not and just swim around and be happy. No deadlines, no cranky days, no worries about how the rest of my life is going to turn out.

Huh. It’d be highly ironic if I were really a fish, because I can’t swim.

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