What I am is an immaterial thinking thing with the faculties of intellect and will. Because my senses can be fooled, I have no reason to believe in the findings of science, the existence of the external world. The comforting sense of reality we hold on to so dearly may be a dream and we have no way to know that we are dreaming. However, I am certain of one thing and that is that I doubt and am perplexed by all that I previously took for granted