Sometimes it all crashes down around me and I'm the only one left standing in an dead city. Everything that once was, now doesn't exist. There is no infinite and definite, yet at the same time the concept of questioning it is inpercievable. Everything you once held as fact ends up being a lie. Every lie you were ever told becomes real and then dissaparates. Nothing is real. Nothing exists. But at the same time, the existance of nothing becomes the existance of something. You begin to believe anything and everything as your mind comes up with it... you see to the inside of your mind, to the core of yourself.
And you realise that we're all rotten inside anyway.