We are trying to prove ourselves wrong as quickly as possible, because only in that way can we find progress.

Physics says that at small enough distances random things occur. For instance, particles and anti-matter can pop into and out of existence and create tiny regions in space where new dimensions unfurl. Crazy stuff, but we consider it is real.

Strangely, my brain knew what it is even before I read about this quantum foam. I think it is the reason for its incessant chatter. Thoughts are only electrical impulses, electricity is the movement of electrons, and those are really fucking small. It makes sense to me.

Believe it or not, this is one of the reasons I meditate. Defeating that constant voice takes practice — especially when everything in the outside world is competing for my attention. And talking to other people about it doesn’t help when everyone is experiencing the same thing. I’m only aware of one other who really gets it. Few others realize thought is only a state, much less how to escape it.

With all the barking dogs and nervous talking, it seems like no one in the world is concerned with the joyful silence of simply being.

So why am I?

My methods are selfish, but only partly so. One day he will realize how little value everything on the outside holds. Maybe 10 or 20 years will pass before he does. I’ll be waiting.