I often talk about the irrational sources of suffering and from the way I write you’d be forgiven for thinking that I have it all sorted.
But you would be wrong.
Over the last year – the interregnum between my last consistent blogging and during the recent revival of blogging since I started anxiety meds – I have been in a depressed slump.
I try to blame this on not having a girl-friend. Which is only partly true.
I crave sex and intimacy. To be with someone who enjoys me for my mind, personality and body. Who I enjoy for their mind, body and personality.
But that isn’t all I crave.
I don’t even think it’s the main thing I crave.
I’m a philosopher.
It’s what the voice in my head does when I let it do what it wants..
Due to social anxiety and laziness I only ever finished the first year of college.
This has left me alienated in a world of people who talk about things that don’t interest me.
That doesn’t mean certain types of conversation are better than others. It’s just a statement of my personal preference.
A world where if I am to talk about what interests me; that is act spontaneously, I either take the role of teacher and/or make people feel stupid.
Literally my mind’s off-switch is pondering philosophical issues. Issues like free-will; what kinds of questions it is possible to answer (I currently think it’s “What will happen if I do this?” and even that’s just a bet based on previous experience (Hume’s problem of induction)); what is knowledge and are we conning ourselves into thinking that knowledge and language are equal.
Also social analysis.
I was at a funeral once.
At the wake I said to someone “He’s no longer suffering. Funerals are just rituals the living use to unnecessarily justify or give themselves a legitimate means of grieving.”
To which he responded: “You’re heartless!”
I was trying to make him feel better about our mate dying. That was my intention.
But now I’m going to do something about it. My plan shall be in the next blog.