aim. fire. death. thought. pain.

What is our fate? To be caught in this endless cycle? To be stuck regretting our action? To be stuck in the past mistakes of our former selves? We live here now yet where do we live when we aren't here? Where do our minds wander before we fall asleep? Where do they go when we wish we could just fall into the warm numbing embrace of unsoiled slumber?

That is the topic of todays post. Where are we when we aren't us? It seems a bit... abstract. So let me explain. We are who we are now. Our past lessons, our future plans shape us, so when we go back to a pervious memory. We cease to be ourself and become where we once were. Someone that at this point in time we are no longer. So what do we think about? I'm slightly disgusted to admit but it always seems to center around my past follies. Why is this? Why do I punish myself with this haunting stroll of fail and folly down memory lane? I have learned what I can from these, yet they seems to always appear; an evil visages of regret and remorse in the form of a specter. So then why?

Perception

I exist, I am, but how much of my existence is truly accurate? If I think for more then two seconds about myself and my life. The question always comes up "Do I truly know who I am", is my perception of myself and world accurate? To what extent do I warp my reality? I suppose in a truly subjective philosophic universe it does not matter but I still have a perceptional "truth" as do others. I would like to be able to know myself and where I stand but, it is more than likely that I "misinterpret"or "warp" through conscious or subconscious means the actual imagine of myself. The true questions then become, how do I know myself. That question I believe cannot truly be answered. Perhaps our accurate imagine lies somewhere in between the views others have of us, warped by their own "lens" and our, warped by our own. It also is entirely plausible that knowing our true self imagine will never be possible. I suppose that I would settle for other's views of me to get a better picture but people are prone to lying over very trivial matters let alone something like this. It seems that humans are destined to never know and the question then arises is it because it is impossible or because we wish not to know?

Why?

I suppose I was a bit over zealous yesterday, haphazardly jumping into the concept of creation. Even though I am at this point still writing it to myself, I think it would be best if I gave my rational for a blog about existence on a philosophical level rather than the very common personal level. List Time!

1. I feel as though the life I live in is boring. I live out my days in suburbia as the stereotypical middle class white americas do. I do the normal things as I go about my day; I have no secret identity, odd hobby of intense interest, or perilous situations to contend with. I suppose I should not complain about my mundane life as it is a relative safety zone. I have no immediate danger or constant fear for my life or nor do I want for any of the basic necessities. Yet this is what makes my life relatively boring, so when thinking up ideas for a blog that one seemed so boring even I wouldn't want to read it.

2. Philosophy has always been of an interest to me. Ever since I was a child philosophy has always sparked a primal feeling of curiosity. Maybe it was my internally turbulent childhood or just the fact I simply had a knack for it, I cannot know but suffice to say I have always been interested.

3. Philosophy is one of the most important things in life. I suppose that is the most subjective statement I could ever make but to me anyway philosophy and existence are the root to which all of our morals and guidelines are founded. The point of existence and the how and who are questions that have very strong implication as I laid out in my last post.

There are more reasons but I think that is enough for one day.

M.E. My Existence

Well, it seems I am up late again. My mind is an unfortunate torrent of thoughts, they include all manner of as I say "thought fodder" but this is how my more... Interesting? thoughts appear, amid a sea of seemingly trivial conjectures. It seem as though I am perhaps predisposed to have them as it takes little to instigate them. The simple act of living inflames my mind, provoking the deep questions of life out of the deep recesses of my "soul".

Recently the inflammation has been centered around my existence as of late. Why? Where? How? What? all questions that at this point cannot be answered. I seem to have come to a impassible point, as though a huge wall stands before me brisling with barbed wire and spot lights. It is the root concept of all philosophy: creation. All philosophical concepts rest upon it. They are dependent upon it's answer of who or what is our creator. If it is a god then philosophy is a fruitless art. Our answers have been given to us in a book. There is no need for us to contemplate anything but if it is a what; a natural process or even stranger a Matrix like simulated reality. We have a very divergent thought pattern to follow. Namely one where there are no answers, where anything that is not testable is subjective and our own morals and guidelines merely a pathetic attempt to give shape to a shapeless universe. If this is our lot in life then the wall standing before is one that cannot be passed. There simply is no answer. I know that my want of one is only my human nature for closure but that fact doesn't help. Perhaps it is more like a open field, a vast void filled with nothing but space. Still it lacks an answer and truth and because I cannot believe in a god this will be my only choice or lack there of.

I suppose I am writing to myself but I'll address that later.