Painful Schemes

                                           

By: Jonathan Seidel

                                                                Appendix III: Depressive Nihilism

The character of nihilistic thought has engulfed me in a series of meaningless woes. As a rationalist it is quite difficult to search beyond materialism. Yet it’s absolutely possible. The necessity to equate the non-physical with the divine is fine but it need not lead to institutionalised religiosity. Teleology is not simply a spiritual focus but a pragmatist's fantasy as well. People live for their spouses and children or for their careers and wealth. It is not one size fits all but there is a human drive to survive. Value is essential to humanity. Without it purpose is lacking and sacrifice is imminent. Lost in the abyss is a natural consequence to absent meaningful lives. Everyone has their own methods of finding meaning and pursuing it in their lives. 

I am not one to get emotionally invested in my work. Much of my writing (with the exception of one essay) is my opinions. I believe I am right and continue to educate myself in order to perpetuate my religious link. I reckon my positions have emotionally laced bullets but they are not enthusiastically concentrated. I do not mix my mental health with my philosophy even if they are subconsciously related. Though in this stretch my nihilistic tendencies of late are deeply linked to my conscious outlook. 

Of late I have grown weary of the world. I lack the fascination I once had. The dreams I once held so tight are slowly slipping from the core of my heart. Visions are becoming forlorn fantasies. Yet, what has maintained my sanity is my thirst for knowledge. So hellbent on the intellectual process that I cannot give up. I need to know. I need to keep reading. Interestingly enough, it is not necessarily knowledge in general. It falls under a specific category. My intellectual journey is fiercely connected to my indemnity, bound to my ontology. I am Jew through and through. Understanding my heritage to the sea of infinity is my desire. My determined indeterminacy persists. The long road of oscillating in the osmosis of religious literature. Weaving from one topic to the other. Returning to the old and remodelling it. My perspectives have grown and developed. Where I am now has been a byproduct of tenacious reevaluation. Unsatisfied with my current state, I continue to look for clarity. Though there is a point where the nihilism is overwhelming. Ironically, it is not from the lack of certainty. 

The unknown is generally my greatest ally. With one exception, my pain. The unknown is the devil. Laughing as I struggle with terrible weakness in my legs. Deeply troubled by the aching that forces me to fumble around the streets. Stealing my sleep in the most sadist of tricks. Ponder but get nowhere. My religious journey is an unknown, one that though for many can erupt existential suffering for me brightens up my day. While for others, certainty in their faith brings them serenity from their pain. I cannot stop writing. It was the medical unknown that prompted this journey. I am parched, alone in the desert heat fighting for survival. Focusing on my writing lost in my mind salvages my external threat. Meaning emerges from the shadows. It is the light of knowledge. The light of salvation in the form of innovative comprehension. My unconventionality towards religiosity fuels my soul. My quest for solutions and novelty impassions my guts. It is survival yet productive. Religious infinity is truly a marvel in itself but produces a mindset beholden to my own perpetuity.