2:53am
it’s 2:53am.
i’m sitting in front of my mac, trying to figure out what to write.
the windows are open. the fan is blowing on my face. it’s quiet. everyone’s asleep except me.
and then a weird thought came.
we’re made of molecular legos.
somehow, this arrangement of tiny pieces became conscious enough to type about being made of molecular legos.
and when we die, those pieces scatter.
in a way, maybe we aren’t really dead.
if someone could somehow put every single piece back exactly where it was before… would consciousness come back?
i just sat there staring at my screen for a while.
what really is you then?
no, like really think about it.
if i take out one lego at a time, at what point does it stop being you?
are we just that arrangement of pieces?
or is the idea of “you” something we made up?
maybe there isn’t a you after all.
maybe we’re just the same stuff arranged differently.
some arrangements love nature.
some meow at me at home while waiting for me to pour food into their bowl.
some swim gracefully in my fish tank.
and some are reading this post right now.
and then there’s my mac.
it’s made of tiny pieces too.
but does it feel anything from the inside?
life is so absurd.
or maybe i’m just tired.
i guess i should head to bed.
-ace