I have an embarrassing, blasphemous confession to make. Ever since I could spell the word 'paranoid' I've had the nagging suspicion that I live in a Truman Show-like world, where I am Jim Carrey. Yes, I know it's egocentric and narcissistic enough to make even Trump barf. But there you have it, a part of me still believes that this whole world is some big coverup that would make the whole 'Jews-control-everything' conspiracy look as simple as executing a raid on a fort guarded by drunk cripples. Although such deviant what-ifs aren't playing hookey as freely in my mind as they did when I was a kid (one gets boring and forces oneself to conform when one gets older), they still occasionally bother me at the back of my mind. I have many theories, each more outrageous than the next to explain my paranoia:
a) Everybody is a bug-eyed alien and I'm the only human being in the whole wide world. History, the William-Kate wedding, the Cricket World Cup, my university, science, religion and everything else has all been set up by these aliens as a science experiment in which I'm the Guinea Pig (when people die, they don't die but retire from this experiment and are compensated by the government of their home plant Quazgaar with big pensions and country estates in the scenic plains of Shozhwink),
b) there really is such a thing as the Matrix,
c) the Truman Show theory,
d) the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy paradigm, where the world is an organic computer program being executed by mice, the most intelligent beings in the universe in order to discover the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything,
e) I'm dreaming. What's worse, it's not even my dream,
f) I'm tripping on acid.
The (sensible?) part of me tells me that I'm being ridiculous and that it's all a figment of my imagination, but then that tiny part of me, who oddly sounds like Dave Chappelle pipes up, "That's what they WANT you to think..."
Of course, I've got all the weaker points settled (how would the aliens know when to change into human form immediately if I go somewhere randomly without announcement? If they have the technology to set up this earth, they OBVIOUSLY have Supersonic Hyperdrive Ominspecific sensors to warn and give them ample time to prepare for the unexpected imminent arrival of subject 1.
Sometimes I feel so alone because of this. I know it sounds ridiculous, but how do I know all this isn't a big lie? The problem with this conundrum is that you can't prove in anyway that any of these possibilities aren't real. One can't rule out something until one has disproved it. This huge scam is protected by it's very absurdity.
Maybe these (imaginary?) worlds I've cooked up are a by-product of a hyperactive imagination. Maybe I need to quit watching so many movies and reading so many sci-fi books. Maybe I need a sedative. Maybe I need to get pinched to wake up from this dream/nightmare. maybe a pinch isn't enough to wake me and more extreme stimulation is needed. Where's that knife…SOMEBODY GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!! *obsessively starts looking over shoulder, searching every nook and cranny of the house for bugs and hidden webcams*
a) Everybody is a bug-eyed alien and I'm the only human being in the whole wide world. History, the William-Kate wedding, the Cricket World Cup, my university, science, religion and everything else has all been set up by these aliens as a science experiment in which I'm the Guinea Pig (when people die, they don't die but retire from this experiment and are compensated by the government of their home plant Quazgaar with big pensions and country estates in the scenic plains of Shozhwink),
b) there really is such a thing as the Matrix,
c) the Truman Show theory,
d) the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy paradigm, where the world is an organic computer program being executed by mice, the most intelligent beings in the universe in order to discover the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything,
e) I'm dreaming. What's worse, it's not even my dream,
f) I'm tripping on acid.
The (sensible?) part of me tells me that I'm being ridiculous and that it's all a figment of my imagination, but then that tiny part of me, who oddly sounds like Dave Chappelle pipes up, "That's what they WANT you to think..."
Of course, I've got all the weaker points settled (how would the aliens know when to change into human form immediately if I go somewhere randomly without announcement? If they have the technology to set up this earth, they OBVIOUSLY have Supersonic Hyperdrive Ominspecific sensors to warn and give them ample time to prepare for the unexpected imminent arrival of subject 1.
Sometimes I feel so alone because of this. I know it sounds ridiculous, but how do I know all this isn't a big lie? The problem with this conundrum is that you can't prove in anyway that any of these possibilities aren't real. One can't rule out something until one has disproved it. This huge scam is protected by it's very absurdity.
Maybe these (imaginary?) worlds I've cooked up are a by-product of a hyperactive imagination. Maybe I need to quit watching so many movies and reading so many sci-fi books. Maybe I need a sedative. Maybe I need to get pinched to wake up from this dream/nightmare. maybe a pinch isn't enough to wake me and more extreme stimulation is needed. Where's that knife…SOMEBODY GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!! *obsessively starts looking over shoulder, searching every nook and cranny of the house for bugs and hidden webcams*
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