You Do Not Exist

It is the question that is never really asked. At least not in its deepest sense.

Who are you?

I say it is the question that is never really asked in its deepest sense, because, if it ever were,

then everything changes.

One’s entire life is rethought.

Who are you?

When you fail an exam, who is the one failing? When your job application gets rejected, who is the one facing the rejection? When your own family curses you, who is the one receiving the cursing?

These three questions may be the easiest ones that have ever been posed to you. After all, the answer is provided in the question, right?

You are the one that failed the exam, therefore, you are the one now dealing with the failure. You were the one whose job application got rejected, therefore, you are the one that faced the rejection. You are the one who is cursed by your own family, therefore, you are the one receiving the cursing.

You. You. You.

But is that really so?

Who, really, are you?

Sit in a quiet room, with no distractions, and think about this question for 10 minutes.

Have you realised that

you are entirely made up? Entirely fictitious?

Do you realise you are nothing more than the entity your thoughts have simply conjured up?

What is that thing — a thought?

Does it have a physical shape? Does it have a certain smell? Are you able to taste a thought? Are you able to touch a thought? Can you see a thought?

What is a thought but a thing you have entirely made up?

Your sense of self — your identity —

The thing that you believe you are —

What is it but a collection of various thoughts?

And, if thoughts, are all made up,

Then, hey presto, guess what…

You are also an entirely made-up thing.

Nothing in your life has ever happened to you. You have never been hated by anyone. You have never been loved by anyone. You have never been insulted by anyone. You have never been complimented by anyone.

Yet, you will certainly tell me otherwise. You will certainly tell me there have been good and bad things that have happened in your life.

But who did they happen to? Did they happen to you?

I see, they did.

But ask again,

Who. Are. You?

How can anything have happened to you if you are entirely fictitious?

You can tell me that Humpty Dumpty fell off a wall,

You can tell me Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,

But is Humpty Dumpty real?

Did Humpty Dumpty really fall off a wall and have a great fall?

Or is Humpty Dumpty just a made-up character?

You are as real as Humpty Dumpty.

The question of

Who are you,

Is never really asked at its deepest level. Because if it were, your entire existence would be uprooted.

How can anything be real if it is all made up?

How can good and bad, or painful and pleasing, things in your life happen to you, if you yourself are not real in the first instance?

Perhaps you will tell me your identity is something that has been forged over time through living in this world.

Through the experiences you had growing up as a child.

The country you live in,

The languages you speak,

The religions you were taught about,

The friends and family you spend time with,

The things society told you were desirable and undesirable.

I accept all of that.

But these things hold no power on their own. They are processed by your mind, and you, in turn, produce thoughts.

And we have already addressed what a thought is…

Everything is a mirage.

Certainly, no one can deny the very real pain that comes from disease or famine.

A gunshot to the head is a gunshot to the head regardless of how you think.

But ask yourself about everything else…

Who are you,

And what is real?