Sitting; An existential look into the mind of someone with not much to do.
By Gwen
What is this I'm sitting on?
Is it my butt?
Does my butt really exist?
Does this thing I'm sitting on really exist?
If my butt doesn't exist, but the thing I'm sitting on really exists, can it be my butt?
If neither exists, then I must be sitting on my butt- mustn't I?
Maybe they both exist, butt I'm not sitting on my but.
Am I sitting on my spleen?
Am I sitting on my epidermis?
Is my spleen sitting on my butt?
Or is my butt sitting on my epidermis?
If my butt doesn't exist, is my spleen sitting on my epidermis?
Or maybe the thing I'm sitting on is sitting on my butt?
Is my butt sitting on my spleen, under the thing I'm sitting on?
Maybe my butt is in that box out in the garage, and my spleen doesn't really exist.
Or maybe that box out in the garage is my spleen.
Is my butt inside my spleen?
Ow. My head hurts.
No more books by French philosophers.
Oh. That's what I'm sitting on.
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