There are a few irrefutable facts in the universe; if I am holding a pencil in one hand, and a pencil in the other hand, I am holding two pencils; if I drop one pencil not only will I be holding one pencil, but the other will fall to the floor. These are irrefutable facts: Mathematics and other rudimentary sciences do not bend to fit a false pretense. Beyond these basics (as well as a few others I have chosen not to illustrate for time's sake), all other facts I've been told and forced to memorize are questionable at best.
Do I fear the true nature of the universe for all my doubt? No.
In the calm of a still night my mind races through the history and politics that have been forced upon me by those who wrote the book, and I realize none of it is real. Sometimes these false facts are presented to me by an authority on the subject and other times through a friendly conversation, but in both cases by someone who has absolutely no idea what they are talking about, because they simply believe that which I do not.
Do I know the really real reality? No.
I have hope that one day it will all unlock in a moment of clarity and hope more so that this moment is not too late to take the appropriate action to counteract the true motivations that built such eloquent and highly believable lies upon which all society was built. I can already see the edges of the curtain being drawn, but do not know in what setting the next act will take place. It certainly feels like the intermission is nearing it's end.
Do I think I will like the next part of this grand play? No.
As the actors on stage become less transparent and forget more of their lines my willingness to believe the set as being anything greater than the 'one dimensional cardboard cut-outs painted only on one side' that they really are declines. ...and doubt grows.
Am I discouraged? No.
I chose to believe that doubt is my religion, my path, my beginning and ending and all points between. Doubt is my shepherd and my salvation. Doubt is the warm blanket I use to tuck myself in with at night. Doubt is what keeps me rejecting the programming forced upon me from every direction every minute of the day and night. Doubt is an irrefutable fact. Doubt is my nourishment and my drive.
Can I see the fork in the road? No.
Can I even see the road for the fog? No.
I have begun to doubt that there ever was a road to begin with, and so I can start fresh in building my own new paradigm: a fortress in which doubt lets in only that which cannot be doubted and analyses all else. From there, a new path, free of fog, will emerge and destiny presented. I doubt this path will be mine and mine alone, but if my options are to walk alone or not walk at all I chose the former as it is far better to fail to do than it is to fail to try.
Do I believe the future is a straight line leading directly from the past? No.
For within infinite doubt lies the same infinite possibilities towards the unknown. Darkness can not exist without light and only those born blind cannot discern the difference between the two. Anyone else who cannot see some light within the darkness and some darkness within the light is either misinformed or a complete liar; one can be made to understand these subtleties, and the other will persist in proclaiming you wrong. Guess who among them will be the louder voice: the one crying: "heretic!" or "terrorist!" as the word has been changed to of late.