About the person who has read all of
Kierkegaard and still tries to create a subjective truth within the identity of
the coffee mug.
What is the point of it? If the person who says, “you are crazy,” that
is definitely not so.” is the one who is “objectively” wrong. Because surely,
the Kierkegaard expert would know.
No.
This is my teenage angst post.
I’m frustrated. What is the point of struggling when it
changes nothing. What is the point in working hard? Is it possible to find an
internal satisfaction without looking to others validation? Their judgment. I’m not appreciated on the level I should be.
I hear that so often, I think that so often. But at what level of appreciation would
be sufficient. As an equal?
Respect-worthy? People fight for equality, but struggle to be different. I don’t
understand. I don’t understand. I don’t understand. In class people claimed judgment is bad, “who
has the right to judge?.” Some said nobody. But if it is so wrong, why does
everyone need it to
be happy.
So even if it happens. You reach that positive
judgment from that person or group of people you’re seeking it from. For a
moment you are happy, but what happens after that? Who do you need to be
appreciated by now because I doubt it ends there. Yourself? So what if Clamence is terrible, he did
everyone a favor. But what if you’re simultaneously judging yourself while
still seeking others' positive judgment. Where
is the escape in that? Did Clamence find it? No, he’s still there, even now, in
Mexico City. I know we've moved on from
Camus, but I haven’t.
“I have just returned from a party of which
I was the life and soul; wit poured from my lips, everyone laughed and admired
me—but I went away—and the dash should be as long as the earth’s
orbit———————and wanted to shoot myself.” – Kierkegaard
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