“How do you know that you’re right?”
“What”
“How do you know you’re right about things? Feeling wrong feels the same as feeling correct.”
“I mean, I’m not right about everything”
“How do you know the world is flat? Doesn’t it feel flat?”
“Fly a rocket up and you’ll see it, the curve.”
“So you have to sit on top of an explosion.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m just saying, normal shit feels just as normal as weird shit-“
“Until it doesn’t?”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean. You’ve got to be exceedingly skeptical of not just your beliefs, but you’re experiences. They could be weird shit.”
“How do you love? Live? Hope? Hell, even survive? Fuck existentialism is what you’re saying, you know.”
“How do you know you’re addicted? Doesn’t it all seem so normal.
You’re happy and then you even out. You’re happy and then you event out. You’re happy then you even out. On and on.”
“Then you hit withdrawal, or at least the first signs of withdrawal, and then you know you’re addicted. A fear wells up in your gut that you won’t get another hit. You’re constantly thinking about how you’re going to get back to where you were. It wakes you up at night. Your Fitbit says your heart rates fucked.”
“...... so you’re saying an explosion?”
“Fuck you, dude. I’m not your fucking student and you’re no professor, you don’t have a PhD in nihilism. What are you even talking about? The curved earth? Addiction? Yeah, shit is hard to know, but that doesn’t mean we can’t know it. We can sit down and think before it gets to the point where we strap ourselves to explosions. We can pull back from the brink of catastrophic mental damage. We don’t have to love only when we’re lost.”
“How do you know you’re not crazy?”
