
		I might as well start off with why I'm writing this.  First
	of all,  I'm in a writing sort of mood.  Secondly, these topics have
	been bothering me for some time, and I've long since put off writing
	some sort of text-file or essay on the subject.  So tonight, having
	a craving to write, I gathered all of the ideas that had settled
	into my brain and proceeded to write.






			Do we really exist?  If so, what the hell are we?



		These thoughts ran through Dave's mind as he sat on the
	wooden floor of his room.  It was late at night, the exact time he
	wasn't sure of.  His computer was on, autodialing.  Hacking codes.
	In the other end of his room, in a small dias-type niche, lay his
	keyboard setup.  Various books and magazines lay strewn about.  Some
	titles within range were "Keyboard", "MIDI", and "Dirk Gentley's
	Holistic Detective Agency."  
