And what now? The same as every fuck'n single day: to repeat this same question, even if you know the answer never gonna come. Just keep asking while you can. That's what life means. A vicious circle in which we are imprisoned inside the real cage of consciousness. If Descartes is right so we can say that the only thing we have no doubt about its reality is this prison we are captives. Any attempt to explore the other side, the world of unconsciousness, is deadly damn dangerous. Maybe not to our bodies, but to our only certainty: we are prisonners inside the cage of the cogito.