404: Reality Not Found

Each morning I get a lift to school and on the way pass an empty bus (bar a driver). As we, and it, approach the crossing, sensors signal adjacent traffic lights to turn red. At this point the car stops, the bus crosses and it becomes clear that emblazoned on its side is the number 404.

The conspiracies of my reality dawn upon me. In a world where I cannot validate anyones consciousness but my own, what are the chances that I, the sole protagonist, experience a 404 error each funeral march of a morning. Not long after, my thoughts are rationalized by the law of large numbers and the realization that rather than the protagonist, I am 7.4 billion times more likely to be a side character.

Later that same day I run into any number of security flaws in form of my acquaintances; my family likes to think of them as friends and though the definition fits I attempt to keep my distance. Though liberating, the urge to socialize and find others to trust proves a curse upon the human condition. I cannot promise that I would not prioritize their security over my own, a trait which is commonly referred to as kindness but is better defined as weakness, A flaw in your code which is ripe to let anyone take control, what use is kindness then?

The day continues as programmed, my lifeless slumber intact, my efforts true and yet inevitable. There are times to be enjoyed as with any slumber however it proves only a distraction from the reality that we have no control.

When you scrutinize it, life is just a large cellular automaton, elementary particles acting in accordance with physical law to no end. When faced with any choice, the decision can be predicted just by looking at the circumstances. Give a starving person a sandwich and regardless of what freewill they think they have, they will eat it.

My ability to not be depressed by this despite my history of mental illness leaves you no excuse. Of course it might just be the morning cocktail keeping me sane but I think it is more likely my ability to see its beauty. The order of seeming chaos being tied down by fate, inability to feel hatred, anger or pride as you cannot lay blame, it is perhaps the most constructive and peaceful reality I could concoct. But each morning I question myself when that bus passes, because it causes doubt in my mind, and when your mind is the only verifiable source of knowledge, doubt in its integrity is very destructive.