The problem of my own existence

Paul Melki Unsplash

Since I was born I knew something was off, that something was different. I always reflect upon myself trying to figure out what I was? what was reality? what was what I felt? How do I know that I’m awake and not in a dream? The relentless pursuit of meaning was a constant in my early years of life. I think what make it weirder was the fact that I engaged in those conversations with myself while watching Winnie Pooh.