Reality is a story told to us by our brains. When I first heard my psychology professor saying that 2 years ago , I thought he was wise and that I completely understood him. It took me 2 years to realize that I actually do not understand. So at night when I'm alone, I contemplate. If we all have separate brains, hence different ideas of reality , then what is it then? An act of fiction, an idea? Whats the point of getting close to someone, if our perceptions will never be the same? I wonder..or maybe we're trapped in a loop hole of trial and error.
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