Trust

Trust. In every moment, trust.

Trust in what?, asks your distrust.

The thing is, there is a whole expanse of things, from what you consider to be you, the one you bargained with to trust in exchange for not letting you die, to what you project as the most unknown and distant from you, which you fear so much you would rather die. How much distance is safe for your trust to cover?

Well, no, you don't know. You know nothing, not about yourself, not about the world, not about what separates the two.

Nothing you see is real, by the way. Not the news in its many colors, not the judgments about your neighbor, not even the tone of your voice. The ground beneath your feet is not solid when you lean on it, nor is it true that your feet are there when you look at them. You are not real, nor is what you have bargained with yourself, nor is the unknown real, nor even your idea of dying.

Therefore, scientifically, you must distrust everything. Where you see a wall, you may not crash. Where you don't see one, you may smash right into it. If you sense dang