The Existential Crisis Entry

I woke early this morning at about 3:25AM. I got up to pee and whatever, then stumbled back to my room and crawled into bed. Usually I'm able to go back to sleep fairly quickly if I don't entirely wake up -- this time however, that twilight state between sleep and awareness lingered a bit. It occurred to me slowly that in this state I was having difficulty determining where my body ended and the bed began. I almost felt as if I were part of the bed. At first this gave me a warm, cozy feeling, but soon it turned into something darker. I realized suddenly that if I perceived myself to be a part of the bed, then who was to say this wasn't in fact reality? Immediately, my mind rejected this possibility. But that only caused more problems.

If I wasn't able to trust my -- very real for the moment -- perception that I was becoming a part of the bed, then how could I know with certainty that I could trust any of my perceptions? I was familiar with existentialist philosophy -- that the only meaning any object has is that which we imbue it with -- but at this moment, I was struck with the full implications of that idea. I view the world not as a series of raw objects, but in terms of values which are a product of my own mind. If all of this meaning comes from within, then how do I know for sure that anything is real? I suddenly felt very desperate and alone.

And sick. Physically sick.

If the only meaning in the world comes from the values I impart, then it follows that there are no absolutes. Does that mean that things like rape and murder are only bad because I imagine them to be? Do they even exist? Do I even exist? Do you?

Is it possible to function in a world with no meaning?

...

Sike!