We are machines

You are not a person, you are just a set of learned behaviours that respond to stimuli in a complex manner.

The illusion of free will is exactly that - it only exists because you cannot discern your own internal reasons for your behaviour.

Stop thinking of yourself as a person. You are a machine.

Yet here I am. I don't see the lack of a special, divine existence and reason as a problem, but as a priveledge.

I am standing on the surface of a tiny bubble hurtling around a burning ball of gas, itself a tiny bubble to the rest of the universe. I share this bubble with billions of others, and there aren't nearly enough resources to go around. Every curb and car and meal and person in my tiny sub-sub-bubble could kill me. Life is so fragile that I could choke in a bucket of water or be ended by tiny cells millions of times smaller than myself, I to them like the galaxy to me. I am the chance product of the meeting of a million sperm cells and one egg, the egg one of hundreds that die off over time. My blueprint is the product of chance reproduction of billions of lifeforms, and reproduction itself was born of chance from random swerving in a chaotic system. The conditions for the beginning of life are literally astronomically unlikely. The conditions for its continued existence are even further beyond comprehension.

"I" am not even a "person". I am a by-product of a billions of tiny cells swerving by chance in a way that forms a useful gestalt.

And yet, here I am. Existing and percieving existence and perception itself, a manifold manifestation of the universe pondering itself pondering itself, in infinite improbability from the vantage point of a tiny bubble in a tiny bubble among billions of tiny bubbles. I am utterly meaningless and always doomed and threatened for every moment of my life, yet I am here. I don't hate being meaningless; I revel in it.