the worm in the apple...

This is a simplification of something that has probably been studied by sociologists, anthropologists and cultural philosophers. My contemplations may be amateur but I can't help but let them overflow onto the page, I remain convinced that there is some truth in what follows.

Yesterday I was explaining to a friend how throughout my life I have been looking for refuges from the problems caused by humanity's subjectivity. I have been looking for the crispest, sweetest apple. However, everything I have ever viewed as a refuge in one light has eventually been revealed to me in another as corrupt- a construct of society that has been misused and abused. Philosophy is one of these things. Finally, after 2 years of study I have decided to stop cultivating reverence for the 'greatest' philosophers, the big names.

Philosophy was once, for me, the beautiful objective, the logical, moral, rational answer to all the problems caused by the ego-centric, self-centred subjective. But of course I was deluding myself- philosophy has been abused as much as religion has, as much as tradition has, as much as art and literature and science .... there is no human construct morally pure or purely moral that lives and breathes. Even abstract theories can be misused in their utter dependence upon our fickle language. Even words laid out with the most honest of intentions will be manipulated by corruption eventually. On paper we create the ideal which crumbles when we try to grasp it.

It occurred to me then that the ideal is no more than a concept, and in raising it up and reaching out for it we are in danger of constant disillusionment and disappointment.

I wish so much that humanity was less flawed. That the ideal was attainable. That I could eat an apple without finding a worm in the core...

blogging...an alien form.

I don't think I'm doing very well at this. I haven't settled in. Where I once had plenty of thoughts to share I now have none. It's as if the opportunity to vocalise has drained me.

Or perhaps I began in the wrong tone and that is stopping me from speaking. I have to make another jump. I have to break out of that which I began in. I have to begin again and make sure that this time I keep thinking, keep talking.

I was hoping that this would be a scrapbook. But there is a beauty in the physicality of sticking images to the page, of writing words, that I cannot find in the tapping of keys.

I shall persevere but you'll have to bear with me.