axl617
Rising Star
I figured this would be good place to ask this. My philosophical outlook was strongly shaped by a number of substances over the years. I'm fairly young but I'm at the point where I've been reading some good ol' Camus, Nietzsche and other related material. Not really by choice, but these thoughts forced themselves to me over time, beginning with revelations about how we could all be possibly fragments of one unified consciousness experiencing itself (which raises a lot of questions itself, like what was the motivation for this creation?). The loss of the idea of a omnipotent being having its best intentions for me was quite discomforting, the thoughts about how pointless existence is as a whole even more so.
Nothing seems to be sufficient in really snapping me out of this funk. The more I think about it, the more I begin to see how trivial all of existence is, how repetitive/limited human existence is and how chronically unfulfilled we are by nature. It's like human existence is just a game in escaping this depressing truth by distracting ourselves with the drama of humanity, before dying and recycling this for infinity.
The only 'solution' to this predicament I've found other somehow shutting off consciousness is the Buddhist method of trying to just be 'present', with no attachment to anything but pretending to be a free-floating consciousness which doesn't attach to fear, angst, joy or much of anything. This works for a short time but deep down I know the 'truth' is still burrowed deep in my psyche, just waiting for a bad day or a case of insomnia to pop back out. Is that all that existence can be for me at this point? An exercise in avoidance and feigned ignorance of the nature of reality?
Nothing seems to be sufficient in really snapping me out of this funk. The more I think about it, the more I begin to see how trivial all of existence is, how repetitive/limited human existence is and how chronically unfulfilled we are by nature. It's like human existence is just a game in escaping this depressing truth by distracting ourselves with the drama of humanity, before dying and recycling this for infinity.
The only 'solution' to this predicament I've found other somehow shutting off consciousness is the Buddhist method of trying to just be 'present', with no attachment to anything but pretending to be a free-floating consciousness which doesn't attach to fear, angst, joy or much of anything. This works for a short time but deep down I know the 'truth' is still burrowed deep in my psyche, just waiting for a bad day or a case of insomnia to pop back out. Is that all that existence can be for me at this point? An exercise in avoidance and feigned ignorance of the nature of reality?