In this haze of existence, does anything really matter
So we need to ask ourselves, would we want the truth
The persistence of memory, the need to be important
Our dreams will be destroyed, every mirror shattered
Are we being watched from afar, are we a human zoo
Will we then take a bite of the apple from the serpent
Have we learned our final lesson, does childhood end
Even as the benefits of adulthood are far less certain
For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that
reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of
phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live,
somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist.” Vladimir Nabokov
