don't be a tard bro..er......imagination bro. I am aware that I am non-existent to an extent that my existence is being used for nefarious reasons by some outside force. I am in fact a bundle of cells used to generate small electrical currents which provide power to them for whatever they need. For that they invented everything there is for me to enjoy in my short or long life. Currently, I am a mid fifties (in a planet called earths years- whatever that means) with a wife who has shunned sex, living with an apparition of a grandkid, and watching a ceiling fan as if blows what feels like cool air across my imaginative face. Life is great as a figment of my imagination. Unfortunately when I am terminated, or die, or am whatever they do when I am done, you will cease to exist as well. Ain't that the shits. You, who don't exist, are determined only by the supplanted imagery given to me by whoever they are....peace out....aw.. fuck off, I hate talking to myself.