I don't know much about life.
I don't know how the universe came to be, or why we're here, or how experience can rise out of matter.
I don't know the functions of cells, or how neurotransmitters in my brain translate into the feelings I experience.
But I do know that no matter what it is that this all is about, the experience feels very real. I am a breathing, thinking human, or at least as such I have my illusionary experience. I am a creature of the earth, made of millions and millions of atoms, that somehow constitute matter. My flesh and bone yearn for life, and so does my tiny, uncanny mind.
There are many theories about life, and the universe we inhabit.
Those theories are fun and all, but theory does not constitute life. Life is life, existing for itself, for it's own sake. Theory needs something to base itself on, experience is direct.
Humans like to intellectualize, objectify, to create ideas about stuff so we can make up the right procedure to tackle the matter.
But what are we trying to tackle? What is there to solve?
Approaching life like it's a problem will not give you a solution, as you will only be given more and more questions until you've killed your brain with overwork.
Still as humans we like to build things, we like to intellectualize, and that is fine. Yet it is important that we don't apply that attitude to ourselves, as that will only create problems.
Experience is experience, emotions are emotions.
Thoughts are just thoughts - nothing more than that.
And you are just you.
A speck of dust in this universal ocean of freedom, a byproduct of an arbitrary experiment.
And as such so fucking magnificent.