See you soon..but how i abhor the truth, having acknowledged the fact that a long time will pass until i will have written something again
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See you soon..but how i abhor the truth, having acknowledged the fact that a long time will pass until i will have written something again
I assume that you are familiar with that particular sensation when you feel extraordinarily tired and you want to sleep but , unfortunately, you are unable. Well, this could lead to heated debate, since a plethora of reasons might be behind this not very congenial situation. Regardless, I would futilely try to explain the main causes of this phenomenon, so I came to the conclusion that i should not proceed to generalize. But here I am, procrastinating again, eschewing continuing my initial trail of thoughts due to reasons which surely have no warrant.
I have not felt the need to write for a while, so why am I here, in the middle of the night, endeavoring to be concise but being deprived of the means to a less turgid style, to a more concrete idea, should something abstract be nonetheless concrete? Shame on me, I made such a long phrase but I lack the power to go back and replace it with something clearer?
So, here I am, listening to depressing music, lacking any coherence, desperately wanting to release myself from my thoughts. Over the years, I have constantly changed, I went from being an emotional recluse to finally opening myself. But I feel that there is something deep inside, something that I forgot about, struggling to come back and haunt me. It is an ineffable feeling, though it is pervasive. I feel it in every cell of my body, in every atom, in every quarc, in the soul that I most certainly not present, in my heart which ceased being cold long ago, in my head which is filled with pieces of information which most certainly will prove to be superfluous, in my recent dormancy, in my lassitude, in my thoughts, in my stream of consciousness, in every bit of myself. And the only thing I know is that I must not let that thing out.. It does not matter what it is, for I am certain that the term used beforehand, ineffable, applies completely. It is my most hidden devil, it is my anti matter, it is something which haunts me ceaselessly.
Oh, here I see the light again! Blessed be it, for the brighter the light is, the darker my soul is.
Ce s-ar mai putea spune despre timp? Oamenii au dezbatut conceptul secole de-a randul, de la consideratiile frivole de pana la Einstein si pana la noua perspectiva originand in teoriile despre relativitate. Banuiesc ca “paradoxul gemenilor” nu este un mister in ziua de astazi. Asadar, pare ca orice as adauga ar fi superfluu. Astfel, voi trece momentan la un alt punct, incununarea idealurilor umane, calatoria in timp.”Nu pot comite arbitrariul de a pretinde ca stiu ce se intampla in constiinta oamenilor”, afirma Camil Petrescu, si ii reiterez pozitia ori de cate ori pot. Totusi, nu cred ca risc sa comit o eroare atunci cand afirm ca oamenii au fost profund fascinati, surescitati de posibilitatea calatoriei in timp. Dar care este adevaratul motiv pentru care ne dorim aceasta? Se teoretiza ca aceasta joaca cu temporalitatea ar putea avea implicatii uriase asupra prezentului, ar putea schimba definitiv realitatea. Cu toate acestea, teoria string-urilor si constientizarea existentei unei infinitudini de universuri rezolva problema aceasta. Dar cele mentionate anterior nu rezolva o alta nelamurire, referitoare la atractia exercitata de posibilitatea de a calatori in timp atunci cand nu se stia ca implicatiile majore pot fi evitate? Mai mult decat toate celelalte, un singur lucru a dus la nasterea acestui concept. Nici curiozitatea, nici dorinta de aprofundare a intelegerii lumii, nici nimic altceva ce poate fi considerat pozitiv. Adevaratul motiv ce sta in spatele dorintei de a manevra timpul este mandria. Omul nu poate accepta faptul ca nu poate controla timpul. Trecerea inexorabila a timpului este dispretuita – incapacitatea noastra de a opri timpul, de a-i opri macar efectele ne face sa dorim de asemenea nemurirea? Cine ar dori sa traiasca vesnic? Cine ar dori sa fie inconjurat de inca o generatie de delasatori, de ignoranti? Ceea ce ne impulsioneaza este ambitia, ambitia de a ne dovedi superioritatea, de a dovedi prevalenta elementului uman. Este mai mult decat speciism, este mai mult decat umanism, este o mandrie dusa la extrem. Nu consider ca mandria este un defect, ci dimpotriva. Cu toate acestea, mandria unei rase este un lucru intempestiv, de-a dreptul de evitat. Oamenii vor incerca mereu sa detina controlul – nu vor reusi intotdeauna, dar dorinta ramane. Va fi vesnic acolo, va arde in cea mai intunecata noapte, in cel mai fierbinte desert, in cel mai izolat loc din Universul acesta sau din altul. Dar cine imi poate dovedi ca este un lucru bun? Kant afirma ca atunci cand ne luam un reper moral, acesta trebuie sa fie valabil pentru toti. Astazi, un reper moral adoptat in unanimitate de un numar totusi restrans de oameni este considerat a fi litera de lege.
Inchei cu motto-ul volumului “In marea trecere”, de Lucian Blaga, amarnica revolta impotriva timpului, fresca a limitarii omului in fata maretiei naturii, dovada a luptei noastre perpetue de a ne depasi conditia, caci intr-adevar omul e o fiinta tragica..
“Opreşte trecerea, Ştiu că
unde nu e moarte nu e nici iubire -,
şi totuşi te rog: opreşte, Doamne,
ceasornicul cu care ne măsuri
destrămarea.”
It is a new year, but what proof do we have that something changed? Indeed, we begin counting the days once again, but what is different from the previous year? Wisdom? Experience? Neither one comes with the transition from one year to another – they come gradually and there are no harbingers for their arrival, for you cannot measure them. Regardless, what is so important about the passing of the years? For me, it is just a matter of convenience.. Had it not been for the structuring of the time, people would be bewildered, we would deal with a pervasive state of turmoil. It seems logical to assume that this is one of the reasons which led to structuring time in centuries, years, days, and so on.. Well, this if we do not take into consideration the Rotation Movement and the Revolution Movement of the Earth. But let me proceed to the next subject which has been on my mind for a while. Without further prevarication, I should put my inquiry – is there hope for the humanity? I am increasingly aware of the fact that the general consensus is that the state of humanity is degrading incessantly. However, I do not despair – I think that there is plenty of time to evolve. We should not remain as we are – we should endeavor in order to prevail, for we have potential, notwithstanding the plethora of hardships we encounter on a daily basis. We are not perfect, but we should covet for perfection – this is the only thing which can make us evolve, in any possible meaning of the world. I am sure that one day, each of us will understand that we must transcend our condition of humans – we must be better than we are, we must defeat our weaknesses. For the moment we claim in vain that we are the most evolved creatures on Earth, for no other creature is capable of so much hate, misery, ignorance, disdain. We shall evolve, but we have to become aware of our state – this is the first step we must undertake, and it is of utmost importance to do that as soon as possible – delaying the moment of apprehending this is preposterous. So let us be our resolution for 2012 – let us understand that we must evolve, that we must be better than we are for the moment, for we have potential and we must not let that waste!
I have intended for a while to write this eulogy for one of my favourite writers – Dostoyevsky. What is peculiar about my fascination with his works is that I am not fond of Russian literature. However, since I am not a connoisseur of it, I do not want to go to unacceptable lenghts as to say that it is not valuable; as far as I am concerned, it can be actually more interesting and well established than I had ever thought. Regardless of this unfortunate attempt to express some entrenched impressions, I want to return to the main theme of today’s dissertation.
I still remember how I commenced to read Dostoyevsky. It was the winter of 2010 and I fatidically came across “Crime and punishment.” I apprehend now that it was just the begininning of an exhaustive but nonetheless fulfilling task. I have read hitherto almost all of his major works, but I still have to finish “The Idiot” and to proceed to “The Adolescent”.
Despite my initial consternation, I gradually understood that Dostoyevsky was one of those writers who was so adroit that in order to catch a glimpse of his immense knowledge you had to jettison the inveterate conceptions and replace them with a holistic approach towards his work. Notwithstanding the risk of seeming supercilious, I must say that I succeeded in my attempt to comprehend his view points almost perfectly. When you read almost everything that an author had ever written, you feel that between you two a bond , an inextricable bond had been created. I can pertain completely to this theory, due to the fact that now I do not have to waste time trying to ascertain some patterns of thinking in order to find the actual meaning of his words. Whereas at the commencement I had sometimes problems with his sometimes convoluted writing, I find myself now able to supersede the common meanings of the words with the more profound ones. It is not a harbinger of hubris, I must assure you – it is just the not so unexpected consequence of a long process of understanding one of the most intelligent men on Earth. One of the hindrances that prolonged this accomplishment was my quixotic personality which did not accept a single misuse of the word “holistic” regarding the understanding of his books.
Apart from this general thoughts, I want to talk for a while about the actual products of his genius. I cannot say that one of his books is my favourite – each one of them provided me with a different point of view regarding a plethora of theories; each one of them endowed me with a better understanding of the world. Engels once said that he learned more about the society and practical things from Balzac’s novels than from the historians, economists and psychologists of his time. And I guess that this can only reiterate my previous statement, although there may be people who think that they can rebuke my assessements.
Time passes so quickly… I notice now that I have not written anything for so many day. It has been a burdensome, exhaustive week. I could talk about my accomplishments, but the reality is that no one really cares about your successes. What they are looking for is your failure, so that they can consider themselves better. Pathetic human beings! Endeavouring in order to prove meaningless things to others instead of fulfilling their ideals. And the drawbacks displayed by them are immutable. The unfortunate corrolary of this rather perilous attitude towards life, deeply interwoven with an actual disdain for it, leads to the misunderstanding of significant things related to the realm of reality. Whilst I struggle to make myself comprehensible, I cannot bear the fact that I might be sometimes peculiar in my statements, mostly because I tend to contradict myself. It may seem odd to criticize your own person like this, but my propensity for the tendency mentioned beforehand stems from the incessantly developing sense of reality that we had been endowed with. We change our opinions on a constant basis and hardly can we stop doing this, for it is not an inchoate characteristic of the human nature, but it has been there forever. Although I believe in the existentialist conception that Existence precedes Essence, I do not deny that are some idiosyncrasies of the human race that pervade in everyone, since the dawn of history. For instance, when we are children, we always seem to develop feelings for those taking care of us. It might seem as a simple example, but i think that it is enough for understanding the possible source of heated debate. It seems as if I had superseded my initial intention of making a short post . I have to learn to confine myself to expressing my thoughts more concentrated and to avoid excessive use of words.