A letter to Descartes

We have all grappled with, 

what's expected of us. 

Which one is it --

is our consent 

manufactured, or determined? 

does The Ineffable simulation 

test us?

From Zeno's time 

to gravity defying Keanu

battling machines,

from Moksha to Max Tegmark,

we have wondered:

Is it all 

just a wave function collapse --

the faults in our lives 

and the deaths of our stars?

I watched my grandmother forget my name

the same week I read about Hilbert space.

A Gödelian loop

of programmable tissues transformed

via stochastic gradient descent --

each synapse adjusted 

as a pebble in a riverbed 

nudged towards meaning 

by river's own memory --

onto an embedding

of lived experiences 

creates the perfect illusion.

Like a protein folded

not by choice,

but by solvent, temperature, and chain constraints—

yet still locked into a shape

that fits the lock.

It's the entangled quarks 

and the curved fabric of spacetime 

that wrote this,

system minimizing 

action.