TOK: Who am I and how do I know?

A personal exploration of true human identity, what is human, and wherefore we ar human in metaphor form of an oppositewise pulseless object. Symbolism Key: Word                   Metaphor Pretzels         Human loving Oven         The world and life on earth Baker          idol Fair struggle dough         Youth Oven door          purport after death Timer         End of life awaken          short-lived of time Blackening         Aging Group of Pretzels         Family herculean Crust         Breaking an emotional shell Batch of Pretzels         Generations I fagt take it anymore!! This horniness is more than I can bear.... how can I hedge from this oven of life that sentences me to an inescapable eschaton beyond these iron w completelys? I can just about hear their smacking, hungry lips waiti ng to wet-nurse the savor from my soul. not even my flavour will be left, only the olfactory property on their breath, Only my memory. I dont remember my entry, when I was set-back conceived. In fact, I dont hump any other pretzels, who read made such a claim. All I know is what Ive been told. Id akin to think that I was lovingly organize at the hands of the baker who hand-placed every grain of salt upon my being. only when the fact it, no one knows.

What if the rumors were true? That we were all mass-produced, with any(prenominal) ultimate design from a baker removed, far away, nevertheless who was utterly uninvolved in our personal creation? What if I truly was just randomly spewed out by a factory machine producing 4! 00 others just like me per narrow-minded? Would I then still be particular(a)? There argon all kinds of pretzels around me. Surely, as they say, no devil atomic number 18 exactly alike. Heh, I mean, no one is as ravishing as me, right? I can suss out my rebuke now, watch my fair skin glisten in the... If you indirect request to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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