Reality. Is there truly such a thing?
Another drop of crimson liquid dripped to the floor.
Could it be just a figment of our imagination, considering that the human mind has been proven to be powerful enough to create it’s own realities?
A small puddle began to form at his feet.
When people dream, we create a new reality that we live in for a few moments.
Droplets trickled down his arm.
We have the ability to ignore information that doesn’t interest us, so even if reality did exist, it is possible that we are aware of only a portion of it, while completely ignoring the rest.
Another one added itself to the growing puddle on the floor.
Should we trust the reality our brains choose for us to experience?
Is it true that we must rely on and depend on our brains to function in this world?
Are our brains doing their jobs well enough to be able to trust our very lives to them?
Would we even have a life without our brains?
It had a beautiful scarlet hue that became darker as it dried around the edges.
If we can ignore things that do not interest us as individuals, does that mean that we do not all share the same reality?
It oozed out of the open wound and ran across his hand….
Do we all see the world in our own ways? Is this why people find it easier to relate to one individual rather than another?
….Settling in the fine cracks of his skin.
It twisted and turned, creating a sort of pathway that curved and forked.
Had he been an artist, he surely would have thought of it as nothing but beautiful and possibly slightly unnerving. Like a ruby path delicately carving its way across his arm.
As a scientist, he saw it simply as a red liquid he called blood dripping from an open wound and submitting to the laws of gravity by being pulled towards the floor. It was simply that and nothing more.
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