Beginnings

What is the difference between us? Is it a matter of nature or nurture? Is it nature compounded by nurture?
Are we the sum of some unforseeable consequences? Is it free will that shapes us?

These questions and more huant me, as they remain undefined... With answers that leave me wanting, as they are not complete puzzle peices.

I am a philosopher, at least to the extent of asking these questions. My life is lived, that the pursuit of all knowledge be held accountable to truth.

What does it mean to be a philosopher? what do we accomplish by thinking?

I would like to believe that we are not all just pathetic school children, caught up in the battle of wits saying, "mine is bigger". Sometimes it seems that way. the fallacy of male competition, succeeding in the one place we were thought to have retreated to escape from it- pursuit of the mind. In this pursuit we were expected to excel away from mere mortal men, who toil away at the earth in pain for lack of thinking. To struggle needlessly, it was seen as the most futile thing... failure from a lack of thinking.

Have we escaped our futility? have we not just turned thinking away from failure into a new failure itself? A fear of pain that grew into a fear of fear, and bigger still into a fear of life. A fear of an environment that lacks control, the control of our own minds.

It seems to me that until someone has completed pursuing the mind- gained real answers, irrefutable truths... That we are only exercising futility in a more efficient way. Experiencing reality in a possibly much more detailed but still secondhand manner. So futile.

Yet it still remains uncorrupted, this idea of truth. The pursuit of the concrete, the hunt for pearls of wisdom- a treasure that no one yet gained. And since the idea of a complete truth cannot be removed from us, we doggedly pursue her. day and night, in any spare moment we can... think. For many years I believed I was sick with dementia, constantly picking apart my own thoughts to objectify motive, define my purpose, and record the imprint of my soul. It is painful at some point, as is the recognition of all ignorance that has disappeared... when I realized that I could not stop myself from thinking. I could not slow the multifaceted system of arguments that can and does apply to everything. Eventually, the things we do constantly, become who we are. and soon I found myself far from able to turn back, the only direction I could move was foward, and so I did.

I decided to record myself at some point. This blog will be a "come as we go" in depth look at life. I will write when my muse strikes me... Heavy hands for such a beautiful lady, I call her truth and she calls me ignorant. Read this at your own peril. Truthfully I tell you, unless you love something with your utmost being... philosophy can and will destroy it. Philosophy is the purest poison, it is the final frontier of growth and it will cause you to leave yourself behind. This diary of thought will only be worthwhile if your life absent truth means nothing.