Cutting EdgePhilosophical Reflections

Thinking With Direction Yet Unknown To The Thinker: Series 1

Prinx Maurice

Thinking With Direction Yet Unknown To The Thinker: Series 1

Head filled with thoughts of various contents is that which my body carries around. It is sometimes in a motionless posture, seeming at peace within itself but not necessarily at peace because peace seems so far fetched and afar off to this wandering and wondering mind.

These thoughts I know not of although they appear potent enough to hold my attention to them, nevertheless, my attention is not strong enough to delve beyond the cloudy nature of my thoughts.

All that I am given to know is this; my consciousness is not directed towards itself but to some things external to it. The more I wish to search out these “Externalities”, the more I am held back by my “Internalities”, that is, internal processes which inhibit clarity of mind. I therefore must first search out these Internalities which inhibit me from knowing those contents which my consciousness is directed towards.  Too many things preoccupy my thoughts and it seems I have no control over when and how my mind wanders. I wish to lay still without imagining things, diagnosing or prognosticating events and ideas, yet I cannot achieve this simple wish which is no wish to many people because they naturally have control of their thoughts or perhaps to give myself some psychological credit, let me say they don’t have the sort of thought contents I have.

I am tired of this state. It is punishment to me, but I have not done anything wrong to deserve this, at least not to my knowledge. Since this is the case, I then should believe quite strongly that I am being tormented by forces I know not of.

I wish for so many things like others wish for, nonetheless, whenever I fall into this abyss of unknown direction of thinking, the wish of coming out of it becomes primary and stronger than all other wishes including the wish to be alive and to think.

I am a commodity lost in transit and the ugliest of it is that no one knows that I am lost because they do not even know me and as such do not seek to find what they have no idea of. I myself cannot search out where I am because I am concealed in a place where illumination cannot permeate, at least not until a long time. All that makes me know that I am lost is that I feel the coach always stopping here and there for “Unlost” people to alight or climb unto the coach to their respective destinations. I know all these by sound heard and by intermittent stoppages, yet I cannot cry out for help because my speech organ fails me since my mind is entrapped within itself to even give propelling commands to my mouth for a cry-out. Even if I cry out, I cannot be heard since I am located in close proximity with the engine roaring at it noisiest peak. It will take a remote miracle to get a savior in this place.

My life if it is mine at all is completely a disturbing mystery to me as its agent more than it is to even the most active observer. All I essentially seek for in life is not much. In fact, it is highly negligible compared to what majority of humans seek. On personal terms, I seek only long life although I am yet to establish when long is long enough, a life of sound health completely free of this torment of a continuous headache. In addition, I seek the essentials of life without need for extravagance. The simple things of life are all I ever wanted and wished for. A life to commit positively both in abstract and practical terms to my society is what I humbly wish for.

What then is the problem and what makes the solution to the problem so problematic? To this question and many other similar and dissimilar questions, I have no idea as to what the answer could be. I will get there someday, but my intended original destination is so far off now and faded in the shadows that I fear I may not find my way back to it given the many paths before me which I must tread through.

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