Listen
Listen - none of this is steeped in reality. I’ve never understood the real world. All I know is my own perception of the world. And even that is tenuous and changing. So I guess I don’t even know that. Why even write? I don’t know that either. I know stories. I read them, watch them, play them, invent them all the time. But do stories convey anything about meaning? Are stories real?
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