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Dear Diary,
Recently, I came to the realization that I don't exist; I haven't for years. And when I say years, I do in fact mean infinity, it's just that I'm lazy, and it's simpler to write "years" than to be bothered with typing out all those zeros.
Or at least I would be lazy, if I existed, but I don't.
Now, for the benefit of you nosy people who have no business reading someone's private diary—if you need reassurance at this early point, re-read the title. And for those of you who are too lazy to re-check the title above (though not in comparison to me, because, as I've already stated, I don't exist to allow a comparison), this non-treatise by a non-entity is untitled "Contemplating my non-existence". If it were in fact an actual treatise written by an actual entity, it would be instead titled "Contemplating my existence".
Now let's just dismiss your next point of contention right away by saying that the fact that you are reading these non-words in a non-existent article does not in any way, shape or form constitute some kind of proof that they were written by me, and therefore I must exist. (Full article...)
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