But, why if this conceptualization is so chameleonic, do we dare to question it?
What triggered this mutual questioning between Homo sapiens about the truth of their actions?
The idiosyncrasies of society today is tinged with intolerance, distrust and deception that now threatens the existence of an honest and incorruptible being that could be called "real".
But reality is a subjective concept without rules or features.
According to Fernando Savater, selfishness is bad only if it brings misery to the one who so behaves, on the other hand, autonomy is proper to help fulfill goals and find happiness, which requires certain behavior, not a mask, but to follow certain social parameters imposed to each situation and environment.
The gained experience is then stored in the neural networks of the gray matter that acts as a corrupt, rebellious and frustrated commander whose power and control reaches every fiber of the body in which it resides, but is refuted when trying to follow it's own set of rules or follow his indomitable and imperialist desires outside the skull that holds him prisoner.
Such a constant struggle between oneself and life requires learning and change tactics to prevail.
This makes the mind a military barracks provided with several individuals, none more real or more fake than the other, but with different perspectives.
So we could say that the true reality is the conceptualization of the universe that blooms in the recesses of our mind, whose survival inctsinct is present as deadly thorns that surround to the most beautiful sprout who manifest themselves in the doubtful times of everyday.
The world is real, people are real, and the scars inflicted by that precise mythological creature, are the ones forcing us to wear masks and go through constant flagellation to reach the most precious blossoms in our brain to avoid getting hurt again.
It is difficult to know if someday that herberage recollection will free itself from the dark cave of bone tissue in which it is enclosed, to show the deeper self within the cocoon, one we could not label as "real" but as pure and innocent.