A wise stoner once hypothesized, “Our entire universe could be, like, one tiny atom on the fingernail of some giant being. Woah… pass the Cheetos.”

Hello, my name is Flemdor the Great, and I am that aforementioned giant. Below is a roundup of the various existential questions and thoughts I've struggled with, given my unique existence.

For several millennia, I've exercised an admirable amount of restraint by not applying clippers to the nail of my forefinger, on which sit literally hundreds of millions of atoms, and on each atom, an entire universe. As time passes, the nail lengthens. And with this, so does the amount of atoms on my fingernail. This of course means the populations of each universe are exponentially expanding, and new universes are being made as well.

To wash my hands–a simple act of hygiene for anyone else–means to wipe out living, breathing beings with horrendous natural disasters.

All of this to say: I am beyond freaked out to cut my nail at this point, as every day I put it off only means that when I inevitably do cut my nail, the annihilation of whole universes will be that much more substantial.

It's a lot.

Going off the previous point made, what does this mean for my five children and the universes on the atoms of their nails?

They're all too young to properly handle nail clippers, so I must assist in this act as well. Now I've involved my children into this gigantic mess. Soon, they'll be coming-of-age adolescents who will be asking life's biggest questions. I can't just avoid the subject of universal obliteration on a grand scale. They must know the truth, just as my father taught me, and his father before him. Parenthood in the giant community is harder than you'd think.

To wash my hands–a simple act of hygiene for anyone else–means to wipe out living, breathing beings with horrendous natural disasters, such as floods and tsunamis. Do I just not wash my hands any longer? Or do I suck it up and accept the grave consequences of cleanliness?

In cold weather, I must keep my hands free from frostbite by wearing mittens. But, by doing so, I've forced darkness upon the beings in these universes. As they live in literal darkness, I too wallow in darkness–only the kind I live in is one of depression and shame.

I'd hate to come across as arrogant and assume I'm the be-all-end-all of existence, but is the universe that I live in just one tiny atom on the fingernail of an even more giant being? And is that even bigger giant a cool guy? Or is he kind of a tool?

Probably a tool…

Conversely, do the beings in the universe on the atoms on my fingernails have universes of their own on the atoms on their fingernails? And so on? Is everything infinite?

I'm giving myself a headache.

As a giant, I must stay big and strong. So, naturally, I lift free weights. On occasion, out of clumsiness or absentmindedness, I will accidentally drop a weight on my hand, which could very easily crush a nail. I can only liken this to a meteor crashing down on Earth, decimating all life in one fell swoop.

Where does this leave me? Do I simply stop working out?

Of course not. Perhaps the solution is to invest in a home gym that does not include free weights.

I guess this basically makes me God, right?