Soliloquy of Despair...
When would it be deemed appropriate for one to acknowledge complete defeat and sink deliberately into the depths of depression? I would assume that this would be apt when all alternatives have been exhausted and their is no sign of any progress. It is easier to discontinue hope if the goal to which you strive offers no tangible benefit. For example, if one strives to improve the world through altruistic deeds and that person perceives no positive change, then it would be silly to continue exuding effort fruitlessly. A common dream amongst most people of perception is to derive that singular truth, that would be the catalyst of all future progress, from the life that has shaped them. This is most often a futile goal to pursue, for there can be no singular truth besides change, which means that truth changes continuously. A common substitute for finding truth is the development of an original idea; something unique and novel that would be spawned from an individual. That pursuit of the original is a considerable driving force that brings about progress as well as regression. The creation of the original is the pure product of the soul. The development of an original idea proves to the creator that they are more than the sum of their parts and experiences, rather they become greater than themselves, an Üebermensch or Dostoevsky spiteful man. In spite of themselves they achieve a great feat, that of a purely original work. This is contrary to the scientific reasoning of today. How could a being, bound by limitations of space and time, create a work that exceeds the very capabilities of the being itself. So if we honor the successes of science then we admit to ourselves that we are slaves to our environment and that no novel idea can be created by anyone. We then examine those supposedly novel ideas of the past only to recognize them all as regurgitations of environmental influences. So the hope that a soul exists, that we can rise above our own states and truly control our fate is no more than a childish dream. Our only recourse is to focus on those mundane tasks that satisfy those maslowian needs.
What if we fight against such an outcome, continue to strive for the original unceasingly, struggle to find the original? Many have tried and failed. J.R.R. Tolkien has created an entire world with its own languages customs, rituals, religions etc... However he has only adapted and/or merged already existing ideas into another. However, if we decide to imagine a unique situation, do we decide that the imagined situation be bound by the same laws that bind us? Wouldn't that be working within the realm of the non-original? So there is no hope for the original. The best we can hope to look forward to is Steven King like accomplishments, desperately attempting to create an original work through exploiting the monstrous.
This is why despair befalls me, the only goal that could redeem my existence is unreachable given the factors involved. This doesn't mean that I will discontinue my endeavors. I will still strive knowing full well that I may never reach my goal. Until then I must live the life of Sisyphus.
What if we fight against such an outcome, continue to strive for the original unceasingly, struggle to find the original? Many have tried and failed. J.R.R. Tolkien has created an entire world with its own languages customs, rituals, religions etc... However he has only adapted and/or merged already existing ideas into another. However, if we decide to imagine a unique situation, do we decide that the imagined situation be bound by the same laws that bind us? Wouldn't that be working within the realm of the non-original? So there is no hope for the original. The best we can hope to look forward to is Steven King like accomplishments, desperately attempting to create an original work through exploiting the monstrous.
This is why despair befalls me, the only goal that could redeem my existence is unreachable given the factors involved. This doesn't mean that I will discontinue my endeavors. I will still strive knowing full well that I may never reach my goal. Until then I must live the life of Sisyphus.