//------------------------------// // Entry 42 - Existence // Story: Diary of a Ruler // by Lamia //------------------------------// 'I think, therefore I am.' A philosopher coined this phrase during a luncheon today. I do enjoy the occasional exploration of our existence, why all of us are here. He explained that if you are conscious of yourself, you exist. I gave it some thought. How would I know I exist? Am I the only one that can be convinced that I, or even the world around me exists? How can anypony know? The possibility of us or everything else not existing can be a tiresome exercise on my mind, but even so, somehow I enjoy it. Perhaps the ponies in my castle do not exist, or all of Canterlot. The entirety of Equestria, no, the world and the universe of all that I know could be an illusion. We may all be a dream, a constructed piece of fiction. What if everything I knew and saw was a hallucination, a fake image, given to me by some unknown power? All that I can see, what I perceive, is all that I could possibly believe in, and I am sure most ponies would agree. What if we had no eyesight, or hearing, or touch? What if we had no senses at all, yet had a kind of conscience? How would we know we exist, with nothing to guide us? How would we know that the world exists around us, if there even is a world? We may as well be dead, but even then, such a preconception is still up for debate. It disturbs me slightly that all life in the existence I know could be as fragile and manipulated as a lit candle in the breeze, including myself. There is little that can be done about existential theories, however. Despite anything that we may be able to learn about its construction or purpose, I doubt that anypony would be able to truly understand it. I personally find it amusing, the idea that we could all be a fictional vision within the mind of one or more individuals. I have wondered if there is an existence out there where Daring Do is a real pony, despite being created by the author of the novels. An omnipotent being directing our every move, giving us our every thought, creating a personality that we cannot truly call our own. I wonder how they create and interpret our personalities? Though, who is to say somepony's personality is the same from one opinion to another? What makes one interpretation of us different from the next? The amalgamated perception created from the years of life that somepony has lived, of course. I am sure no two ponies see Daring the exact same way. I can see the moon very clearly tonight. It covers the grounds outside my window with its light, illuminating the land with an opalescence. Sometimes... I regret what happened to my sister. The beauty of the night was never in question. She let all of her emotions control her. Every time I see the moon, even after all of these years, my heart is heavy over the decision I made. When her imprisonment ends, I hope to be there for her.