Existentialism in Existence

The emperor needed new clothes before he met his people. He therefore looked all over the kingdom until he found two of the 'best' dressmakers. So he ordered for them to be brought to the castle and begin making his new robes as soon as they arrived. with their invisible thimbles, invisible thread and invisible needles, they set out to work.(existentialism?)
The little boy knew a thing or two about the world, afterall, he was almost ten years old. Ofcourse he could not be likened to the sages that had been through the ages but he could tell what was and what wasn't. (existentialism?)
The emperor wore his new clothes ready to meet his subjects. The boy joined the crowed in the streets ready to meet his emperor.(existentialism? maybe...)
He knew his clothes were the cause of all the tumult. The emperor could not question the existence of his clothes, the boy questioned the existence of the emperor's sanity.

What really exists in the world? Do we really have a part to play in the world's arrangement? Does our existence determine our destiny and do we really dertermine our existence?

Life in a time when priorities are determined by oil prices and whether or not the world will be ruled by a black man (existentialism or the doing of a higher being?) My existence is a reflection of He who created me. My being, my very essence a shadow of a light that cannot be perceived by existing standards based on an existing wisdom in a world where foolishness also exists in the same realm. So what really exists, why do i exist and what is existence? What is my role and why am i really here? Why do i feel like i make no difference (little boy) and why does the system always have its way yet its nakedness is as clear as the (existing) day?

My existence, i realize, is based on His existence which i base on faith over reason(aquinas kicks kiekegaard's ass on this one!) I continue in my quest to fight non-existences and create existing wisdom in the vast vacuum of existentialism. That my friends, is why i am here. True existentialism...

Dark Times

Dark times these, where we sit and hold ourselves and wonder if what we see is really the truth or its shadow (allegory of the cave). what if i live in this world where fantacy is reallity and life is death so when i die i am awake in full force and my soul plasma recons consciousness. philosophy taught me the wisdom of love, to embrace embarassments as they come. i belong to the realistic school of negritude ideologies are just held up firts that climb up the spine into the brain and light the biogas fuelled light bulb.
Such times require one to question their existencialism...'why am i here?'...'of what use am i?' i refuse to cling to the communistic misconceptions of paradise, my thoughts are mine, my philosophy my pride.
So i question my wisdom and who i am in wisdom and a reconning of sorts comes to light... these indeed, are DARK TIMES.