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Chapter 2: 2) George & Berkeley

The introduction was practically redundant. George had long since lost consciousness, Berkeley's relatively supernatural appearance managed to push the young researcher a little too far.

Roughly an hour passing by, George opens his eyes to a blurry and distorted world, his senses getting used to life again. He blinked a few times and stared at the walls, with a twist of his head he'd seen a painting of an apple, on the other side, he could see a well-dressed gentleman hovering over his table, somehow shuffling through his research.

Almost as if there was nothing unusual, and that everything he had just seen was purely in his routine, George closed his eyes to let them rest for a little longer.

"…."

"....."

"Wh-" before he could even scream it out a distinctive memory flashed through his mind, a story that revealed the name of the distinguished gentleman in front of him. 

"Berkeley..." George muttered out. He had no understanding of who Berkeley was. The name was never even mentioned. It almost seemed instinctual at that point.

"The conscious mind, its very existence affirms the absolute nature of the knowledge present. Hence, it is evidently crucial to elucidate on our thoughts that stem from such a place…." Berkeley pondered out loud, he then slowly turned around, revealing his face and attire for George to accept.

"What do you believe my friend…?" He asked ignoring George's current state. 

"…..Huh?" George just blinked at Berkeley, there was practically a sensory overload that had overtaken his body. He simply couldn't fathom what was being told, moreover, it made the entire situation far more unusual when Berkeley began to explain or discuss his notes.

"Allow for me to…-" Berkeley stopped his sentence midway and turned around to look at something written, "catch you…upto speed? Is that how it is stated…?" He seemed even more in thought after his own sentence. An intriguing existence indeed.

"How…how are you here….who…what?" George slowly got to his feet as he conversed. By now he had understood that if the spirit in front of him were hostile, it would've made its move when he was unconscious.

"Allow me to state that your utterances have entirely eluded my comprehension.." he nodded and spoke as he gently rubbed his hand down his clothes, straightening out any crease he could find.

"Berkeley?" George held his head with one hand, and wiped the blood stains off his face.

"It is I," the man responded.

"Who are you..?" George retorted.

"Berkeley," he said with a straight face.

"..."

"...?"

"Why….are you….a ghost?" George asked as he pointed to Berkeley's body that seemed to vaguely shimmer around.

"Ah yes, my presumption holds that it is likely to be accredited to a cause beyond myself," Berkeley said with his chest filled with confidence.

"So you don't know," George paraphrased bluntly.

"Esse est percipi," the philosopher mumbled, he wasn't sure but according to his tenet, that was the sole reason for existence.

"To be, is to be perceived…" George replied stuttering, confused as to how or why Berkeley would know such a thing. 

"Are you telling me…you exist because I perceive you?" George asked, the possibilities were endless, his brain had already began to run simulations of what it truly could be.

"Perchance…..this-" he was cut off by the psychologist who now seemed to be deep in thought.

"Eludes your comprehension? I know, me too," George replied with a smile, he scanned around his table for his notes, unfortunately, there was nothing credible within them that could help him answer the questions he currently had.

"Might I inquire about our whereabouts?" Berkeley spoke as he hovered over to the window, peeking out, his eyes widened. Civilisation and society were nothing like he knew them to be. Matter of fact, he eerily appreciated and liked the thought behind the planning of the society. 

"Everything about this society. The people, the buildings, concepts, the economy and whatnot. Everything. Is built or based purely on one philosophy. To be, is to be perceived…" George muttered as he looked up at the bedazzled Berkeley.

"An apple….what do you think of it" He asked as he turned around and looked at the painting in George's room. 

"?? They're okay…I suppose….red and sweet, why?" George replied, slightly taken aback by the sudden change in topic.

"That is your idea of an apple. Your perception. In reality, the apple is immaterial. It is but a mere collection of properties; properties such as redness or sweetness. It is these properties that shape or allow for our perception of reality,"

"Meditate upon this. Subjectivity is ultimately absolute, which leads us to perception. Our perception of everything is a result of our reflexivity and subjectivity, it is only natural for our ideas to differ. We are humans, it is within our nature to be different," he smiled and hovered closer to the painting.

"If our ideas differ, then how is it that our understanding of an object remains similar?" George asked, utterly mesmerised by the knowledge being shed upon him.

Berkeley simply smiled, his eyes were warm and welcoming, "Medium. We share the same medium of communication. In that manner, does the possibility of such a thing not seem more….plausible?"

"Sapir-whorf…." George muttered to himself, his eyes widening. The insight he gained in just a mere few minutes was incredibly invaluable. 

"Things in this place…they cease to exist when they're not perceived. Our ancestor, an ancient philosopher perhaps, passed down the dictum. However, to this day, we fail to understand how such a phenomenon is being carried out…" George spoke, disclosing information about where they were. "This is Percipia…"

Silence filled the room. There wasn't a single word uttered as Berkeley stared out of the window. "This…was not what…I meant…." He turned around with a defeated expression.

"…..What you meant…? Unless…" his eyes filled with surprise and horror as he had only just made the connection. How else could Berkeley know of the dictum. How else could he hold such immense knowledge and theories about human knowledge?

"By my very own utterance, I have been reduced to a mere perception. I'm capable of being perceived only by you, and thus exist only for you,"


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