I am someone.

I am someones?

Perhaps.

But probably not.

I (don’t) exist.

Do I/you/we/they exist?

I’m not the one to answer such questions, if you don’t mind. I think I’d prefer to just keep sitting along, doing nothing.

But then again, there is always the choice to not do that. Choices, do they exist?

I’d like to say they don’t. Then maybe it wouldn’t be my fault, but Universe’s.

Accept your faults, and they will be relieved.

Shut up, I’m perfect. Except for everything, I’m perfect.

I’m you and I’m not perfect. Except for everything, I’m not perfect.

I am me not you.

Of course you are, keep telling yourself that and it may be true. I’d rather you not though.

You are you.

He is she.

No.

Yes.

If you’d mind, I’d rather not deal with this today.

Alright then, materialize.

What?

—-

And so that is how I've written the introduction of Validity, a story I might write of a zombie's existential crisis after being awoken by Universe