I am in a state of malaise and wish to express my current feelings and perceptions of things. That is all I intend to do within this post. It has no quality, no aim, and no point aside from the communication of my self as of writing.
All is illusory. This is not a good thing nor a bad thing, as those predicates too are illusory. Indeed language too is illusory. As such this post is illusory and all that it attempts at is illusory. I attempted to write such a post as this many times, but these reductive thoughts stamped out what little desire I had to write, stepped on them and beat them until bloody and bruised. Thus, for now, I’ll bracket off these sentiments as best I can.
As is written in Ecclesiastes, all is also vanity, as all is filled with emotion which is necessarily self-affirming. Every single action is filled with emotional content, whether we realize it or not. Seeing someone, they might well be a stranger, seeing yourself, tasting food, witnessing beauty – all such things elicit a response in us that we are not aware of, as it is part of what it is to experience that thing. We, consequently, live in what I can only call an emotional simulation, a play in which our roles are in part determined by feelings and emotions. Without them, all is illusory.
Given that I’ve said all is illusory, one might assume that I at the moment lack emotion and, indeed, I do. When one considers friends and family they typically feel a dull, abstract warmth. Indeed, right now, I feel nothing. My family, in a very real and literal sense, feels alien to me. When I watch movies with aliens in them, I typically get what I’d call a feeling of uncanniness – that the aliens are doing something we as humans do, but that something is simply odd about it. It is familiar and yet distant – alien. This is how my family feels. If I look at past pictures of myself, the same feeling is evoked. It’s as if that body in that picture is not me, but someone else. Of course it isn’t actually someone else, I’d be absurdly psychotic if I believed that. No, something is just missing. I don’t know what it is or how it is, but it simply is not. I’d say “emotion” but that’s not quite right – I can still laugh and feel “happy.” And yet, something isn’t there. A piece of me isn’t here.
It’s like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life, like the person that’s talking to you right now isn’t “me.” I don’t know who I am, but I might as well be no one. And I cannot stress enough that I don’t mean this in a depressive manner; rather, I simply feel empty. Again, not in a depressive manner, but in a manner which speaks only to a thing’s being devoid of content – empty in a denotative, not a connotative, sense. I feel like a shell of a person, a husk, a set of references which have no core substance, an empty set.
Indeed, the world feels the same. Thus, all is illusory. Without a distinct feeling of self, all affirmations of self, that is, all affirmations of the denotative (“emotional”) content of the self are equally worthless and alien. We are only animals, and nothing more. How could we be more? I’ve negated the self, that on which we ground human differentiation from the rest of the animal world. We are animals practicing kin relations and power structures grounded in our vanity. All we are is our vanity, and there is nothing more than vanity. The whole of life is, thus, a sham.
Of course, all of this is crap. Vanity is what makes life meaningful and self is what makes man great. I can tell you that, but I don’t feel it. The denotative emotional content which constitutes the self and which can affirm that statement wholly is simply not there. It is all of this that I was speaking of when I mentioned the collapse of reality in my last post. Indeed, when you no longer feel like a person and everything around you seems fake, collapse is all you have. That, and eyes which struggle to see the screen through which they read, and a head which pounds as a constrictive pressure wraps around the skull. It is misery.