untitled (30.12.06)
(I warn you, although what I write here is how I feel, this is one of my more spontaneous writings, I may edit it in the future)
It appears that every so often the inquiring mind tends to ask questions that do not have direct answers. Over the past centuries philosophers have asked the very questions that humble us. A philosopher uses logic, and method to analyze such questions, answer them in the best manner possible, but with so many answers we become confused.
What is life, what is it to be alive, what is “human”.
I will not attempt to answer these questions; I have no answers. All I have is questions. This will be my thought discharge.
A very good friend of mine once asked me these very same questions, I didn’t answer at the time, and it’s been an ongoing conversation for about a year now, ever since I started reading some philosophy. He’s answer was “life is life”. And I agree. I also think life is multifactorial. Imagine a huge puzzle, with too many corners, each corner represents a factor or a part of what we call life. What are these factors? That depends on the person. In my case they would most likely be love, self-improvement, studying medicine, spirituality and a few others. This is how I see things: I am on a hiatus, I started putting the puzzle back together from these corners, and not a single one of them is complete.
(This isn’t going the way I planned, may I remind you this is a thought discharge, a form of verbal diarrhea)
What is it to be alive? I see people walking around imitating what our biology books would define as being alive. Yet why is that I can’t believe it?
I want more than just acting out what it is to be a homo sapien. I want more.
I want to feel real, not just act it all out, I want to enjoy whatever I do, I want to feel every emotion I can, I want to experience everything I can. Fools and marionettes: that is what they are. I am not part of a play; I’m not part of the system. I want to leave an impression on you. I want to love and be loved. I will spoil those I love. Create and inspire.
When Death comes, what remains of us?
Our deeds, and the memories we leave behind.
I will not be forgotten.
I am human.
I am man.
But I don’t want to be every other man.
I am youssof
What I write today is desperately deficient. I have so much more to write, but it seems my thoughts cannot be translated into keystrokes. It’s my infamous “failure of eloquence”
I’ll leave you with Jean-Paul Sartre:
“Everything has been figured out, except how to live.”
“It disturbs me no more to find men base, unjust, or selfish than to see apes mischievous, wolves savage, or the vulture ravenous.”
“Man is not the sum of what he has already, but rather the sum of what he does not yet have, of what he could have.”
“One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life.”
“One always dies too soon - or too late. And yet one's whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are - your life, and nothing else.”
“It is only in our decisions that we are important.”
Just read: “For One More Day” – Mitch Albom
About to read: “Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” - Robert Maynard Pirsig
Should be reading: Davidson’s “principles and Practice of Medicine”
Listening to: Beautiful Mine – The Butterfly Effect
And various other songs
It appears that every so often the inquiring mind tends to ask questions that do not have direct answers. Over the past centuries philosophers have asked the very questions that humble us. A philosopher uses logic, and method to analyze such questions, answer them in the best manner possible, but with so many answers we become confused.
What is life, what is it to be alive, what is “human”.
I will not attempt to answer these questions; I have no answers. All I have is questions. This will be my thought discharge.
A very good friend of mine once asked me these very same questions, I didn’t answer at the time, and it’s been an ongoing conversation for about a year now, ever since I started reading some philosophy. He’s answer was “life is life”. And I agree. I also think life is multifactorial. Imagine a huge puzzle, with too many corners, each corner represents a factor or a part of what we call life. What are these factors? That depends on the person. In my case they would most likely be love, self-improvement, studying medicine, spirituality and a few others. This is how I see things: I am on a hiatus, I started putting the puzzle back together from these corners, and not a single one of them is complete.
(This isn’t going the way I planned, may I remind you this is a thought discharge, a form of verbal diarrhea)
What is it to be alive? I see people walking around imitating what our biology books would define as being alive. Yet why is that I can’t believe it?
I want more than just acting out what it is to be a homo sapien. I want more.
I want to feel real, not just act it all out, I want to enjoy whatever I do, I want to feel every emotion I can, I want to experience everything I can. Fools and marionettes: that is what they are. I am not part of a play; I’m not part of the system. I want to leave an impression on you. I want to love and be loved. I will spoil those I love. Create and inspire.
When Death comes, what remains of us?
Our deeds, and the memories we leave behind.
I will not be forgotten.
I am human.
I am man.
But I don’t want to be every other man.
I am youssof
What I write today is desperately deficient. I have so much more to write, but it seems my thoughts cannot be translated into keystrokes. It’s my infamous “failure of eloquence”
I’ll leave you with Jean-Paul Sartre:
“Everything has been figured out, except how to live.”
“It disturbs me no more to find men base, unjust, or selfish than to see apes mischievous, wolves savage, or the vulture ravenous.”
“Man is not the sum of what he has already, but rather the sum of what he does not yet have, of what he could have.”
“One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life.”
“One always dies too soon - or too late. And yet one's whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are - your life, and nothing else.”
“It is only in our decisions that we are important.”
Just read: “For One More Day” – Mitch Albom
About to read: “Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” - Robert Maynard Pirsig
Should be reading: Davidson’s “principles and Practice of Medicine”
Listening to: Beautiful Mine – The Butterfly Effect
And various other songs
posted by ymialien at 11:45 AM
2 comments
