MidReal Story
Quest for Absolute Truth
Scenario: Someone born in a normal society out of normal parents and everything is normal,yet all humanity doesnt even know where they came from and still they have built a society a modern one based on knowledge they just validate as it doesnt bother them that the knowledge they use isnt valid at all but somehow the information doesnt fall and seems to work and thats what they care about and yet they evolve their knowledge based on those non valid informations like a badly structured building which is doomed to fall and they continue using them and all people seem to have been integrated to the society as all people more or less behave under known stereotypes and they are defiant in a fixed way and so on so all behaviours no matter how they seem are all within the system,except for that someone beforementioned.It is naturally outside of the system and yet it is born inside it in normal everything like its all fine and as it learns and grows it sees more and more clearly the contradictions such as non valid information and so on and it tries to find the absolute truth while having to live inside that world like normal while the system drags him down in a fluent non distinguishable normal way like pure coincidence
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In the beginning, I was born.
I was born into a society that thrived on invalid knowledge.
I was born into a world where everyone believed in something that wasn’t true.
I was born into a world where no one questioned the validity of what they were taught.
I was born into a world where everyone accepted things as they were, without ever asking why.
And so, I grew up.
I grew up in a society that thrived on invalid knowledge.
I grew up in a world where everyone believed in something that wasn’t true.
I grew up in a world where no one questioned the validity of what they were taught.
I grew up in a world where everyone accepted things as they were, without ever asking why.
And then, I met her.
She was different from everyone else I knew.
She was different because she asked questions.
She was Sarah Lin.
And I was Alex Mercer.
Sarah Lin was my friend.
Sarah Lin was my best friend.
Sarah Lin was the only one who didn’t think I was crazy.
I wanted to know the truth.
The truth about everything.
About how the world came to be.
About how we came to be.
About why we were all here in this world, in this place, in this time.
Everything that I had been taught was a lie.
But I didn’t know any better.
Because I had never thought to question it.
As a child, I watched the adults around me, and I learned that they never asked questions.
They never asked questions about why things were the way they were.
They never asked questions about why the world worked the way it did.
They never asked questions about what they were taught in school, even though what they were taught in school didn’t make any sense at all.
The adults around me believed in many things that weren’t true.
They believed in an invisible man in the sky who watched over them.
They believed in a spirit that lived within them.
They believed in the superiority of their own country and in the inferiority of all others.
But most of all, they believed in what they were told to believe in.
They believed in what they had been taught to believe in.
And so, they never questioned anything at all.
It was like that for as long as I could remember.
And it was like that everywhere I went.
I was born into a society that thrived on invalid knowledge.
It didn’t make sense to me.
It still doesn’t make sense to me now.
But that was how it worked, and there was nothing I could do about it at the time, so I tried to ignore it the best that I could and continued to live my life as best as I knew how.
When I went to school, I noticed something else that didn’t make any sense at all.
My classmates were not like me at all.
They were different from me.
They weren’t born into a society that thrived on invalid knowledge.
But for some reason, they acted as if they were.
For some reason, they acted as if everything they had been told was true.
For some reason, they acted as if everything they had been told was factually correct, even though it wasn’t true at all.
For some reason, they acted like everything that came out of their mouths were things that they had learned from a young age and were things that they knew for a fact to be true, even though they themselves knew that they weren’t true at all.
That common knowledge was somehow based on facts, even though it wasn't based on any facts at all.
It didn't make any sense to me at all.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized something very peculiar about my society.
People seemed to have an aversion towards truth and facts for some reason.
People seemed to have a natural dislike towards anything that went against what they themselves believed in or wanted to believe in, regardless of whether what they believed in was true or false or right or wrong or good or bad or whatnot.
When people were confronted with facts or evidence or arguments that contradicted their own beliefs or common knowledge or whatever it is that they themselves thought, they naturally rejected them and refused to accept them as truth or fact or whatever it is that they were supposed to be accepted as by someone who was supposed to be rational and intelligent and whatnot.
People would say that the facts and evidence and arguments that contradicted their own beliefs or common knowledge or whatever it is that contradicted them were false, even though those facts and evidence and arguments may in fact be true.
People would say that the people who presented those facts and evidence and arguments to them were liars, even though those people may in fact be telling the truth.
It didn't make any sense to me at all.
But that was how things worked in my society, and there was nothing I could do about it at the time, so I tried to ignore it the best that I could and continued to live my life as best as I knew how.
As a result, I soon learned to keep my mouth shut whenever someone said something that was patently false, regardless of whether that someone was my teacher or my classmate or my friend or my parent or whatever.
I never said anything when my teacher told me that the earth was flat.
I never said anything when my classmate told me that the sun revolved around the earth.
I never said anything when my friend told me that the moon was made of cheese.
Because if I did say something, then I would have to face the consequences for saying something that no one else agreed with me on, even though what I had said was true.
And those consequences could have been very bad for me at the time, even though they may not have seemed very bad for me at the time or may not have seemed very bad for anyone else at the time either.
I soon learned to accept everything that I was told without questioning it at all, regardless of whether what I was told made any sense at all.
It didn't make any sense for me to pretend to believe in something that wasn't true, but I did it anyway, because if I didn't pretend to believe in something that wasn't true, then there would be something wrong with me, and if there was something wrong with me, then everyone would think that something was wrong with me too, even though nothing was actually wrong with me.
It was one thing to pretend to believe in something that isn't true.
It was another thing entirely to believe in something that isn't true.
I couldn't do that.
I just couldn't.
People would say that I was too young and too inexperienced to understand how things worked in my society.
People would say that I would understand how things worked in my society better when I got older and more experienced.
People would say that I would understand how things worked in my society better after I had been taught how things worked in my society by my teacher or by my parent or by my friend or by whatever.
But people were wrong.
It didn't matter how old or how young I was.
It didn't matter how experienced or how inexperienced I was.
It didn't matter whether or not I had been taught how things worked in my society by my teacher or by my parent or by my friend or by whatever.
I would never understand how things worked in my society because they didn't work at all.
The truth was that there was no such thing as a deity.
The truth was that there was no such thing as an afterlife.
The truth was that everything that I had ever been taught up until then was false.
The truth was that I had known the truth all along but had denied it all along because everyone else had denied it all along.
The truth was that everyone else had known the truth all along too but had denied it all along because everyone else had denied it all along too.
The truth was that everyone else had known the truth all along but had pretended not to know it all along because everyone else had pretended not to know it all along too.
The truth was that everyone else had known the truth all along but had pretended to believe in something that wasn't true all along because everyone else had pretended to believe in something that wasn't true all along too.
The truth was that I had known the truth all along but had pretended to believe in something that wasn't true all along because everyone else had pretended to believe in something that wasn't true all along too, and that made me angry.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I got up out of my seat and raised my hand to ask my teacher a question.
My teacher called on me to ask my question, and I asked him if he believed in a deity or not.
My teacher hesitated for a moment and then said that he did.
My teacher asked me if I believed in a deity or not.
I asked my teacher what evidence he had for believing in a deity or not.
My teacher said that he had no evidence for believing in a deity or not.
My teacher asked me again if I believed in a deity or not.
I asked my teacher what evidence he had for believing in a deity or not again.
My teacher got angry and gave me detention for asking him that question even though he couldn't answer it.
After detention, my classmates avoided me like I was some kind of leper who would give them a fatal disease if they got too close to me, even though they knew that I couldn't do anything like that at all.
I told my classmate that there was nothing wrong with me and that I hadn't done anything wrong and that my teacher had given me detention for asking him a question even though my teacher couldn't answer it.
My classmate said that my teacher was an authority figure and that I should have respected his beliefs and that I was a heretic for questioning them even though my teacher couldn't answer my question and that there was nothing wrong with my classmates for avoiding me and that there was something wrong with me for making them avoid me.
I asked my classmate what evidence my teacher had for being an authority figure or for believing that there was such a thing as a deity or an afterlife or anything like that at all or for giving me detention or for punishing me or for making my classmates avoid me or for anything like that at all or for anything like that at all or for anything like that at all or for anything at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all at all?
My classmate looked around nervously to make sure that no one was listening and then said nothing.
That's what I thought.
I said as much back to my classmate and then leaned back in my seat as the next lesson began.
I raised my hand again to ask the new teacher if she believed in a deity or not.
The new teacher called on me and asked me if I believed in a deity or not.
I asked the new teacher what evidence she had for believing in a deity or not just like I had asked the old teacher before her.
The new teacher gave me detention for asking her that question even though she couldn't answer it just like the old teacher before her.
After detention, my classmates avoided me even more than before, and they didn't talk to me, or sit with me, or look at me, or play with me, or do anything with me for the rest of the school year until we graduated and went our separate ways and never saw each other ever again.
My peers were content with blind adherence to fake beliefs.
They were complacent with being lied to by their elders.
I was not.
They were complacent with being told what they desired to hear by their leaders.
I was not.
They were complacent with being told what they feared by their enemies.
I was not.
They were complacent with being catered to by lies.
I was not.
Just like my classmates and teachers, my peers and elders lived their lives without questioning anything, but unlike them, the thought of living my life without questioning anything was unbearable to me.
As I neared adulthood, the weight of my society's ignorance began to bear down on me more heavily than ever before.
The thought of continuing to live my life surrounded by people who were so unaware of their own ignorance made my chest feel tight and caused my heart rate to increase.
It was like that feeling you get when you're about to throw up because you're so nervous or anxious or scared, but instead of only happening once in a while, it happened all the time.
It felt like my anxiety was wrapping its fingers around my throat and squeezing tighter every day.
As an adult, I would be faced with an impossible decision: conform or rebel against conformity.
If I conformed, I would have to accept my society as it was—to accept that everyone else was content with their ignorance even though they could do better—to accept that everyone else was content with their beliefs even though they were invalid—to accept that everyone else was content with their leaders even though they were corrupt—to accept that everyone else was content with being told what they desired even though it wasn't true—in order to live a life of comfort.
If I rebelled against conformity, I would have to sacrifice my own happiness in exchange for the happiness of others—to be alienated by my peers—I would have to be brave even when I didn't want to be—I would have to endure the scorn of those who didn't understand why I cared about something so insignificant—I would have to keep going even when everything seemed hopeless—in order to live a life of truth.
I was only a child—too young to be making such heavy decisions—and I didn't know what to do.
As I sat at this crossroads between conformity and rebellion, I met Sarah Lin for the first time.
Sarah Lin stood out from our classmates in every way.
She was petite with bright eyes and dark hair and naturally rosy cheeks.
She was beautiful on top of being intelligent on top of being kind on top of being brave.
That is why she stood out from our classmates.
Our other classmates could be beautiful or intelligent or kind or brave, but none of them were beautiful and intelligent and kind and brave like Sarah Lin was.
Sarah Lin could smile at you and make you feel better even if everything else felt like it was falling apart.
On our first day of primary school, our teacher gave us all a difficult math problem to solve.
I couldn't solve the math problem.
My classmates couldn't solve the math problem.
No one else could solve the math problem either.
