This is god's punishment for taking Ritalin
My heart aches, and I will die. Why can I not understand you Kierkegaard? What does it mean to choose oneself in the infinite? Could you please respond to my request before I die?
The thing which disturbs me so greatly is that I have not found the thing which I will dedicate life to. I have not yet found the place where I am to die.
...
I wish so strongly to lay in a field again, to feel that slight singeing of the sun on my skin, and to listen by the Fox River to the way of the world.
...
I've done nothing today, all I've done is lie on the floor and watch the sun cross the sky.
Today, I am most completley estranged from all things. I remember this feeling, and am ashamed to have forgotten it. I have returned to my distractions again. Years ago I swore them off, the vapid pleasures which I had and now again have so strangled myself with. These digital addictions, they are a slow suicide. It leaves me in confusion, that my soul is extinguished and my body in remainder. One thing I've discovered in death, is that it solves nothing. If one is depressed, and they kill themselves, nothing changes, they will remain depressed. Only true and absolute resignation can help a person, to honestly, and with a concious awareness, abandon oneself and thereby become content.
It is as Kierkegaard said,"Hang yourself, you will regret it; do not hang yourself, and you will regret that too; hang yourself or don’t hang yourself, you’ll regret it either way; whether you hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret both."
See? Isn't it true? Distractions like video games and suicide do not produce contentment, but only comfort, which in itself is a distraction from one's true feeling and one's true self. The truth is that I had forgotten these things, I had grown complacent, lethargic, and had struggled wondering how I could gain some agency over myself. The truth is that one must not struggle, one must live effortlessly. Depression is the exhaustion of distraction, and if one is to live well, they must be depressed, carry it within themself with tenderness and great care. No expidiences must be taken, one must do nothing for the purpose of growing past their depression, but resign themselves to it, to listen to it, like listening to a child, and to satisfy it.
I must empty myself of all contents before I can be filled of all satisfactions.
...
It's the end of my first week of this new semester. I think it'll go well. I'm feeling much better now.
Tomorrow (today, this was written at 12:10) I return to school...
It's crazy that you can freeze a thought in time by writing it, and then thaw it out to renew its work by reading. In theory, as long as one writes something, and people will always read it, an idea could maintain itself forever.
No wonder people were so skeptical of reading and writing's moral effects when it first came about, there must have been some natural charm and endearment to the way an idea shifted as it traveled from person to person, and generation to generation. I know I would be skeptical of allowing people to live forever. In fact, I'd certainly think it would be wrong, I don't think people should live forever. The individual must have an end I think.
But isn't it so weird?
I wonder what Socrates' specific objections to reading and writing really were.
I mean I suppose I even have some objections to the manner of reading of my own. I wonder how similar or different our thoughts might have been.
I wonder if he was right about it.
Maybe it was something along the lines of what is said about AI? You know, that people have become reliant on these things, and so value them more than their own minds. Certainly I've come across people, as I've often said, whose every idea is a regurgitation of a Youtube video essay, I'm certain that the same could be possible for readers.
Perhaps literacy and reading were the first steps towards people valuing ideas over themselves? But it seems to be the case, at least to me, it seems that people think systems, and abstract ideas, ideologies, are more important, or worthwhile, or significant than the things they think, or the things they could think.
...but I feel like I do *know* some things I want, but they're sort of nebulous, and only things I want to be, or become. Like I see myself as wanting to be a very knightly person; one who is a servant, but in a noble sense, who is well cultivated for the benefit of others. One who is moral and has heart, but balances that with pragamtism, and a willingness to step outside the moral fortress to defend it. But I have no master, and I have no quest. All I am is my armor and my sword. Steel with no particular purpose.
And there are no more good kings, no good wars, not a hint of valor or nobility in the air to stir up the heart. The days of my kind are over. The kind of people who would use me will not soon come again. The things you say about morality, free will, the end of the world, they're all true, but it wasn't always so. If people just rejected the truth, and what they see in their eyes, I could have comrades and peers, but I am made useless by the defeat of my ideals, which were defeated before I was even produced. There is no faith. There is no one who would believe a man can defeat a monster. There is no mind, not even my own, where one believes in my existence.
And you would say that I should let go of that, and accept things as they are. It is possible I could be more comfortable, but it wouldn't be worth living through such a thing. I think you would say it because you are the kind of thing that could survive that, but I am delicate. Without armor I would be pierced and die.
I'd live as half a thing.
It is better to wait. Someday, I must find someone who can make use of me.
I just want to be believed.
"If ever I fall out of the embrace of one person, I hope I fall into that of another." (16/12/25)
> Holy moly! It can happen!?! Like geopolitically and economically things could do with some improving; but what the hell my life is awesome!?
By Teto! Winter can no longer be considered a depressive season.
Halloween is still my #1 holiday, but Christmas is rocketing up the charts. Happy holidays all, and START LOVING EVERYONE.
Wowie, what a night!
Who knew all I wanted was affection? Seems silly to say now, but before I had had no clue. For all my life, I had had none of it, and thought of it only a little, as perhaps a distraction to while away the hours. I've been intimate with a few people in the span of these past three, maybe four weeks. Now all I really want is that, to be with someone like that all of the time, and with everyone, forever. If ever I fall out of the embrace of one person, I hope I fall into that of another. It is so simple as that. All the other complications of life, aside from my hobbies, have never meant anything to me, and now their absent importance is made sensible to my mind. Love; in all forms, and by all methods, of every category and description imaginable, at every time and place possible, is all I want.
I was so glad yesterday when I completed the final I was most worried of. Relief and excitement mixed with the elixir of anxiety that had not yet disapated since before the exam began, a swell of emotions that led me to feel a sparkling contentment with myself. Yet, I now am saddened, for I wished that was the final feeling. Now I am laden with uninteresting, unrewarding, and unending work. Soon my time here will be completed, but that time can not come soon enough.
I feel in this winter's week my heart will be frozen over, and split, like black street pavement. Again and again I have put off finding an internship, work, and securing the loans for my further education because I am terrified that my life is my own responsibility. I'd like to say that after this, I shall never live in such a way again, but I've sworn off this thing many times. All I know now, is that it seems to me so sure, that the mistakes I have now made will be my killers.