Of emulated sentience

I dreamed last night of walking to the moon balancing myself over a thread suspended between the moon and the earth. When I woke up, I kept laughing at myself for having fallen for such a scientifically inaccurate dream. But then the laughter converted into a brief session of contemplation. Deep contemplation revolving around the mere observation that our mind believes whatever is thrown onto it. It is designed to make sense out of whatever senseless imagery gets projected over its canvas. It is blank. It has no soul, no insight, no ability to judge. It has no emotions. It’s only a canvas, ready for all kinds of projections. Who’s watching the canvas? This ancient philosophical and scientific problem never got solved. Never will. But we do know there’s a complex audience within our own minds watching this canvas and acting depending on the task delegated to each member of the audience. Some members will make our hearts beat faster, some shall make tears roll out of our eyes. At the end there’s no you. It’s this audience which makes you, which observes for you the outer world and decides for you what to do.


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