I’m on the train going to New Haven for Harvard-Yale. I waded through a moat of homeless people as I entered the Harlem-125th Street Station, but the wooden-paneled walls and stone corbels made the station seem like a declining-imperial ruin. I avoid eye contact, looking forward and I press my AirPods deeper into my ear. I'm torn between a Bilbo Baggins guilt and a John Galt discontent. My eyes feel dry and my feet ache from my 12-hour flight journey. The zipper to my bag breaks, bursting its contents onto my train bench.

Perfect environment to write.

If we’re in a simulation, the world we live in may not be arbitrary. In the space of all possible worlds, there exists one which is the most entertaining. The train jitters every few seconds, throwing my head back. But what if there was a world where a jitter would throw the train thousands of feet in the air and back down. That would definitely be entertaining. Elon’s betting our world is the most entertaining world. If we increase the odds this is the one, maybe our world will continue to exist since our Creators will be entertained. Rather than asking "What would you do if you couldn't fail," a better question may be "What would you do to make this world the most entertaining one?"

There is a probable quirk in our simulation: it only exists from your perspective. It’s computationally expensive to run a simulation from every perspective so it seems smarter to just run it from one person’s perspective. This connects with my proof to do shit in your life, extrapolated from Descartes.

You doubt, therefore you think. You think, therefore you are. You are, therefore you must act.

The sea of reality flows from you. Your family and friends are privileged to feel the heat from the spark you produce. NPCs feel your spark like a blinding fire in an endless void, even if it’s for a fleeting moment. They are too anxious to speak to you, so you must grant them your energy.  Turn that spark into a bonfire.

The train jolts, maybe with our Creators' coded physics, and I'm startled awake. It's 3:50am and New Haven is only three minutes away, 30 minutes ahead of schedule. Maybe the world is a simulation, maybe it isn't. But today, I'm in it.