What Am I?
Life is necessarily a virtual reality, and the value ascribed to life contingent upon the inability to comprehend eternal nothingness. This is to say that a finite existence allows only for a finite perspective, but this isn’t necessarily our essential reality, ergo: a virtual reality.
There is, furthermore, no such thing as “rational” within this reality, as all value is predicated upon axioms derived from a finite perspective—a perspective that is inherently flawed, or indeterminable, by virtue of a missing counterfactual. We know not what came before, nor what comes after, and-nor especially without, this finite existence.
Thusly, we are confined to the perspective of ego, practically making all things a virtual illusion, until such time this perspective is no longer: death, a dissolving of the mind, and, presumably, of the ego. This necessarily makes our reality the “lesser” reality, and, therefore, merely a virtual one, given this egoistic perspective. As such, we can never know with certainty whether other egos even exist, or whether these perceived other egos are part of some omnipresent construct as a consequence of some other, more essential reality.
Although, admittedly, this answer makes no practical difference. We tell the saga of humanity as if we are all flowing along with the same tide, or narrative, but take a moment to stop and exist only within yourself, without the background noise of this hapless, delusional species. Indeed, exclude yourself from all of existence, and then ask, detached and independently of all these things: what, truly, am I?
Do you know? Do you even care? Or, do you simply rely on that which surrounds you, in order to define yourself? Are you not able to hear the unique and beautiful song emanating from your own soul? It weighs heavily with grief and sorrow from the toil of existence, but it is unique and beautiful all the same: a harmony of contradiction, thereof a great cosmic sympathy.