Nothing might be real. Or, much more terrifyingly, everything might be real, and simultaneously more and less real than we think it to be.
The tragedy lies in real things being so unreal as if to have never existed. And by definition, everything lived is both of these things, almost 0 and almost 1, because there are other realities that are completely unglanced by many real things. The closest to 0 is something maybe not even real that you never perceive or experience the impact of, and the closest to 1 is you. We very often have ourselves at 1, and the disbelief in the existence of yourself is one that comes quite heavily loaded. Most often we agree on only that, and of course the terror that nothing nothing is real can, conveniently, also be the only paradise there is. But we put people at something like .2, maybe? Much more? Much less? It would be hard to agree on. But how do we cope with the fact that everyone else is also a 1 and a 0? Another 1? How is that possible? And to them, perhaps what is worst of all, to them you are not a 1. And yet you know you are. You think you know you are. How do we rationalize this? Accept this? No one is important and everyone is important, but only to the realities within themselves, their own bubble. Loved ones are still a simulation of something in YOUR life because YOU are the only thing that matters, you just might value things other than yourself (and, of course, all along you are still the one doing the valuing). But if you zoom out from behind your eyes and to behind theirs, you will see you as a character. A .2. Not a 1, and most bizarrely, something that seems to act of its own accord, you are not controlling it, as you are so familiar to doing. That Thing Is Moving, and acting upon the world, and to you it is a 1, to them it is something, but certainly not a 1. It is quite literally a pawn or at most a piece in their game, and when that pawn leaves the frame it, momentarily, but moments can be long, disappears. Its lack of reality is reimposed upon its place and it suffers, if it knows. You are not real. You are so real. Perhaps too real, if all other things are less than 1 to you, 1 compared to the average would be Too Real, were the average a democracy. Thank god they are not. The fact that you can look upon a .2 and imagine them knowing they are a 1, how is this any different than looking at a robot that knows it exists? How is AI not just a completely natural extension of consciousness? You look at something you know isn’t nearly as real as you but when in reality it is, but it isn’t, and you aren’t either. We’d be so fucking hypocritical. And at the end of it all, it all ends. We associate reality with permanence when in reality it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Such a magnificent vision; for what?