Seeing Is Where Belief Ends

I am unsure. I have always been unsure. I am sure of only one thing.

I don't know if our universe is infinite.
I don't even know if it really exists.
I don't know whether I will live to see another day, year, ten years.

I don't know what the people,

high in their towers of metal and concrete, shiny in their expensive suits,

plan for my future, for our world's.

I don't know how many people,

if given the resources I have,

could have changed the world for the better, forever.

I don't know how many people,

good people, bad people, old people, children,

Died to make my possessions.

I don't know where my food comes from, who made it, who grew it, who planted it, or bred it.

I don't know how this machine,
that I am writing this testimony on,
works. Not really.

The things I don't know could make for the most insightful book ever written.

Maybe. I don't know of course.

I know but one thing.

One sad stupid thing.

Beyond all doubt.

Beyond all question.

And though it is horrible,

In a universe of unlimited questions,

And uncertain answers,

I cling to this one fact.

I see it every night, before I sleep, before my rest takes me. I see it in my eye's reflection in the morning mirror. I see it in the imprint I leave on the world. I see it in the movement of my form, slow and short, though space and time.

I see it in all I have done.
I see it in all I am doing.
I see it in all I will do.

And I grin to myself with steely teeth, and my loathing goes with me.

Strong as the only true thing in the world.