I missed God by no more than two days on a flight between Salt Lake and Baltimore. Sometimes I wonder who I would have been if I had found him--planting tomatoes and chasing toddlers, living a life of different struggles, a more rooted but so much less examined life.
As it is I lay awake at night and think of suicide. I'm not sure about anything, but I think there would be no answer no matter what I were to read, no way to transcend absurdity, and such a lack of endgame makes me want to die. This game isn't that much fun, to make it last forever. Still, I wake up in the morning and I do the things I would have done, if there was God, cleaning the dishes and turning the soil, just with my questions echoing in the stillness. I listen, and I try to escape them, and I'm happy for the wind and sky and sunlight through the glass.
People use each other to bury truth. This is why I'm afraid to be alone, why I shouldn't be with people. They're a refuge not an answer, a temporary peace, a short term solution to a long term problem. I'll take it but wonder what's next, and worry how to get there.
7 comments:
I can understand that. I used to miss God a lot. I miss everything now. I am not sure if I really exist. Think about it: if computers can't be persons, and we are neuro-computers, then we aren't persons. Even further though, I don't feel like some "person" so much as a weird machine with a bunch of bugs.
I don't think of suicide too much. More recently though. I am addressing that old problem, and so yeah... I am wondering about the glories of suicide. But.... the problem is that suicide still isn't an escape enough. It is too difficult. It would have been better not to exist.
I wish there was an escape from absurdity all of the time though. I make an argument and I feel absurd. I win and I feel better, but if I lose I feel even more absurd. I don't see an escape from absurdity though.
I don't like people. I like truth. I don't know why I should like truth. I like my identity, which conflicts with truth. I hate my identity. I like people and want deep connections with some, and to be part of something. People conflict with truth, and fortunately enough, I don't like them.
People are the destination, and they are the harbor, and they are the escape, and they are the self-obliteration. People have nothing more than people. Our "design" would focus on making us better at getting something from people. Truth is so sacred to so many of us. Identity is so sacred, and the best identities are the group identities that allow us to go around killing the bourgeois/jew/communist/gay/fundamentalist/muslim/etc without feeling too bad. Unfortunately those identities are dehumanizing, evil, and destructive to one's own being and to be avoided at all costs.
. . .
this is why you're my favorite white male economics major.
I am confused. I mean about what you just said. I am confused in general to, but I have more specific intentions.
Ahh. . . I guess, I find it good that despite our wide differences, we have such commonality of experience.
People use each other to bury truth. ... They're a refuge not an answer, a temporary peace, a short term solution to a long term problem.
Thankfully, the long term problem always eventually ceases trouble mortals, being dead.
I am all for the temporary peace of friendship. Depression is the sea in which we all swim, and only float by clinging to bits of philosophical furniture or each other.
*ceases to trouble mortals ...
Do you go to UVU? I say this based on that I came here via the RSU blogspot, but have only read a few posts more or less at random. Good stuff.
Thank you. I went to UVU up through last semester.
I think my approach to mortality is like my approach to distance running; if you want to finish the race, you don't ever think about quitting--you think only of finishing. You pace yourself, steel yourself, plan on this lasting forever--plan on outlasting it.
How do you find the RSU?
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