I am a Möbius strip
My perception draws the picture of the world I live in. The colors that I perceive, the songs that I hear, the pictures that I see, the actions and reactions that I feel are all the things which define my reality. But are those the actual reality that the world manifests or are they just a figment of my imagination? What or how do I tell myself to believe what the world wants me to believe? Can I prove the reality by contradiction or am I doubtful of myself when I contradict? But this is a fool man’s game. I stretch my thoughts to see where they take me. They take me to places where there are walls, walls so tall that I can see them piercing the clouds, walls so wide that the two lines converge in the horizon. Yet, I never tried touching the walls.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself;
(I am large, I contain multitudes.) — Walt Whitman, Song of Myself