Nothing exists, nothing except for me. In my struggle to understand how and why I am conscious, my mind invents all that I perceive, including the curious point that you have come along to ask this question. I remember a past that also does not exist. I anticipate a future that certainly does not exist. I exist. I exist here in a present moment that never ends. I perceive things near and distant in time and space, all constructs. Trying as I have for this moment of eternity, I can prove to myself no more than this.