I'm in France, drinking an expresso, replying to this stupid thread. What next?

What next? — emancipate

There is no such thing as "you." That's not France. There is no drinking. That's not expresso. There is no reply. Nothing is stupid. There is no thread. There is no "what." There is no "next." But none of that is true: there is, and is not, and everything in between, all at once, now, never and forever. We are not there, behind the not you, on the back of your not head, under the absent skin, watching.

I'm in a planet in the andromeda galaxy in space, or so the evidence indicates. Saying what "here" means exactly, is not so straightforward. Currently I'm in a city, in my room. To my right is a window, to the left there are two mirrors. I'm towards the back of the room, more to the side of the mirrors than the windows.

I can see my feet If I look down and I don't even need to move my eyes much to see my fingers. Where am I in my body? It seems as if "I" am somewhere behind my eyes, for some reason.

I'm a temporal seeming.

Ah yes the good old both/and overflowing superabundance of the Real, where everything and nothing resides. /slurps

And we're off to the races! heliod, you're on fire!

Everyone start to philosophy is nihilism