I am not here for any ethical purpose (Kant, Levinas). Or to create a meaningful life for myself (Aristotle, Heidegger). I am not here to do. I am here to know.
It seems to me that I have always known this. I surround myself with symbols, symbols of the potency of knowledge. It used to be books, now computers. Books merely store the relics of the thoughts of others, dead thoughts. Dusty bookshelves fit only for spiders and nibbling mice.
That would be progress, if I could understand why I need to have seven computers running five within my line of sight! just to write this blog. It means something. I relate to the flickering screens as if they were people. Only without any any trace of self or subjectivity. Mirrors. Mute witnesses. My own self reflected back.
But they are also tools that extend my cognitive powers, in a way that pen and paper, or a typewriter, could never do. Symbols of precision, tireless industry, to make up for my... lazy ineptitude?
I can admit that. I am lazy. I could be putting more of an effort into this, especially as I believe, as I've always believed, that my life is at stake, worthless thing though it may be, and the only thing that can save me is to philosophize, which to me means refusing to accept, refusing to give in, refusing the 'life' that others live. To question, to interrogate, but never accept.
I don't believe this. I don't believe you. I don't believe in you. This is all a dream. I know it to be a dream. Like Plato, like Neo, I am waiting to wake up. But that's no excuse for my lack of effort. Maybe I'm scared to try too hard. I might succeed. And what then?