Philosophy Bro
I've had hits and misses trying to understand philosophers and their works. For example, I've read Sartre's Being and Nothingness a couple of times and I still don't fully understand it. Most of the time philosopher's seem to try and explain existence or the human condition in a tangle of words and definitions that ultimately mean nothing. These blog posts are comical because of the condensed absurdity of the works they are summarizing.
Camus' "The Myth of Sisyphus": A Summary
Look, so, nothing matters, right? Shit's fucking weird. We all want to know how the universe ultimately works or who's running the show or whatever, and it turns out - TRICK. FUCKING. QUESTION. No one's running the show, and the world is unreasonable. Ever had some shit happen to you that made you go, "Why the fuck did that happen? There's no reason for that." Turns out, you were right. So our attempts to impose reason on the world will fail. Death and taxes, my friend. Death and motherfucking taxes.
So what do we do? What's the point? Should we just end it if nothing matters? No, says Camus, thats the pussy way out. Instead, we should embrace the fact that nothing makes sense. Don Juan, the fuckaholic that started it all, he embraced the absurd. Life has no meaning, so he. fucked. everything. He didn't try to impose meaning or find meaning or make his own meaning - that shit is useless, and Camus says there's no hope for that, so cut it the fuck out.
Sisyphus, same thing. Sisyphus was punished because he chained death up so humans could live forever, he didn't give a fuck about what the gods said about fate. He was like, "fuck that, I do what I want." When that didn't work, the gods told him he had to roll a boulder up a hill again and again, forever. Sounds like it sucks, right? So why is Sisyphus so goddamned pleased with himself? Because all any of us is doing is rolling boulders up hills, and every time the boulder rolls back down, we're all like "Dude, what the fuck?! I spent all goddamn day rolling that boulder. Fuck." But Sisyphus knows it doesn't matter. He sees it coming. The gods already told him, "What you're doing is meaningless." Once he knew that, he could let go and just be content. Because there's never anything to do except roll boulders. Your options are get pissed when they roll back down, or chill out and not let it bother you. Be content. If you have to do something, you might as well accept it and do it as well as you can. Being pissy just makes you more miserable.
So, to embrace the absurd, you have to acknowledge that life is absurd and live it anyway. Not because you hope you're wrong, but because you know you're right, but living is more fun than not.
Hobbes' "Leviathan, Books I and II": A Summary
Everything is made of particles, and they're constantly bumping into each other. It's how shit moves, but that's not all - it's how you think, and how you speak, and how you imagine; we all interact based on the motion of these particles, and it has one very important consequence:
Dudes are fucking dicks.
Seriously, there's no way around it. Have you ever seen a guy acting like an asshole and thought, "What a fucking asshole?" Well, Spoiler Alert: You're an asshole too. Everyone is an asshole - there's no avoiding it. It's a motherfucking law of nature, like gravity or John Stamos' hair. And if we're allowed to do whatever the fuck we want, shit gets real real, real fast. One greedy motherfucker steals something , some bro preempts him with his own attack, some other guy tries to show everyone else how big his dick is, and suddenly everyone is trying to kill everyone else.
And there's only one way to fix it. It's not pretty, but it's fucking super-effective.
First, we all make a contract to chill the fuck out, together. But what if some asshole is like, "No, I will not chill the fuck out?" How do we handle that? I'm glad you asked. We all pick one bro and give him absolute power. I don't mean that if he asks nicely, we think about listening; his job isn't to make sure everyone plays fair, or to tell you that you're special no matter what anyone says. Fuck that noise. Absolute. Fucking. Power. Maybe it would help if I told you that Hobbes named him after the seven-headed soul-eating serpent-demon that guards the gates of Hell. Simon Says, asshole. He does what the fuck he wants, and he's kind of a big deal.
But why does one bro need all that power? His job is to make sure everyone stays chilled out, and it's not an easy job, since we're all such assholes. Remember that part in Harry Potter 6 when Dumbledore tells Harry, "No matter what I say, don't stop feeding me this battery acid" or whatever it was? We all say to the ruler, "No matter what we say in the future, don't let us try to kill each other." So that when the inner assholes come out, he knows to put his foot down, execute a few dudes, and keep the fucking peace. And believe me - that's going to happen. You're going to try to kill someone. It's inevitable.
A strong ruler is a necessary evil, dude. Yes, you are going to hate him. He'll be kind of a dick sometimes. That's only natural. Besides, it sucks way less than the alternative. So when you want to complain, just remember: you brought this on yourself by being a dickhead and trying to kill everyone. Sorry he's not sorry.
Why only one bro? Why not a bunch? Because that's wasteful. They'll fight as much as we all fought when there were no bros in charge. Besides, when it's only one bro, he knows he has to fucking deliver - he can't live like a bro-king unless his subjects are doing well. Trust me - pick one really smart bro, and let him handle it. He'll take care of you.
What's that? You still want freedom of speech? Um, no. Why not? Because you would use it to piss other people off. And then they would want to kill you, and there would be riots, and he'd have to send in soldiers to enforce chillitude. It's not worth it. So shut your whore mouth and we'll all be happier for it.
You want to worship who you want? Are you out of your fucking mind? Bro, nothing makes people fight like religion. That's why the bro-king gets to choose who you worship. God knows what's up - if God wanted to talk to someone, he'd talk to the badass motherfucker in charge . It doesn't matter that much to you anyway - what do you care if you worship at 8AM or 9AM on Sunday? Is it worth people trying to kill you to be right? I didn't think so.
In conclusion, you're a dickhead and can't be trusted to handle your business on your own. That's what serpent-demon rulers are for, bro.
Nietzsche's "Thus Spoke Zarathustra": A Summary
Your humanity is conditional, and if that makes you uncomfortable, you're doing it wrong. Maybe you didn't hear, but God is dead. And good. fucking. riddance. Except, for some reason, people won't let him go and it's going to destroy humanity. Everything you've ever thought was right or wrong, you thought because someone told you. And they only told you because someone told them. But how the hell could they possibly know better than you? Who the fuck put them in charge? The Great Big Dead Guy in the sky? Fuck that. Let them waste their lives trying to please others who exist and Others who don't.
Seriously. We have limitless potential, and we're wasting it worrying about sin and Hell and Heaven. And maybe you don't actually believe in any of that. You think that makes you better than anyone else? Wrong answer, asshole. It makes you worse.
At least believers can tell you exactly why they're pissing their lives away; see for yourself. Ask one. "Why do you hate sex, joy, and the human spirit?" "Oh. Because I believe in a non-physical deity who told me that if I hated them, I'd spend the rest of eternity in paradise." It's batshit crazy, right? But at least he's sticking to his guns. Agree to disagree, whatever. But if you don't believe that bullshit, then why the hell are you sitting around wondering what's left? It's because you DO believe that bullshit, you're just too scared to admit it. Fuck, bro, you almost made it out - you saw through the lies and said, "Nope, fuck that." But then you fell into the same old pattern of worrying about right and wrong, about patriotism and politics, about tolerance and government and fairness, about all measure of bullshit - all you've done is replaced the bullshit you know with the bullshit you don't.
I'm not saying nothing matters, and fuck people who think that. What matters? YOU matter. Want to know the secret to being happy? It's easy. I'll tell you. Just do what makes you happy. Oh, shit, look at how easy that is! It's like magic! TA-DA, BITCHES! Stop letting anyone tell you what 'happiness' is, or what should make you happy, or why you should be guilty for being happy. You know what happiness is. You know how to experience joy, or you would if you just let go of how everyone else has told you how to be.
Humanity isn't an end, it's a fork in the road, and you have two options: "Animal" and "Superman". For some reason, people keep going left, the easy way, the way back to where we came from. Fuck 'em. Other people just stand there, staring at the signposts, as if they're going to come alive and tell them what to do or something. Dude, the sign says fucking "SUPERMAN". How much more of a clue do these assholes want? How does that not sound awesome? But they're paralyzed by their fear - "But, that road looks hard to walk." It IS hard, dipshit, but that's what makes it worth it! Fuck.
Look, bro, time goes on forever; everything that can happen is going to happen, and then it's going to happen again. Are you okay with that? Can you stomach the thought of living your life again and again, with no regrets? Not just stomach it; does that thought make you happy? If it doesn't, then you've got some work to do. Here are some good places to start: Dance more often. Laugh at EVERYTHING. And above all else, Thyne own will be done, not anyone else's. Anyone who tells you it's not fair or it's not right or that you should do anything you don't want to is lying to you, and I promise you they're miserable and mediocre. Be done with that. It's not that you only get one life - if only it were that simple. You get more lives than you can imagine, but only one. fucking. chance. to define them for eternity. Stop wasting it. Go and live, now and forever!
Jean-Paul Sartre's "Being and Nothingness": A Summary
First of all, fuck Kant.
Why is his shit so needlessly complicated? A whole world we can't talk about or know anything about? Then how the fuck can he possibly talk about it? What if the world is just exactly the way we see it? Why complicate things even further? Don't tell me I can't get to the chairness of a chair - it's a pretty simply concept, chairness - it's just being a chair. Legs, maybe a cushion, and you sit in it. Can't stop being a chair. Was that so hard?
Look - there are two ways to exist in this world. Chairs just are the way they are, they have being-in-itself. There's nothing special about them. But bros? Oh man, bros are a whole different story. There's no intrinsic broness we all have; we get to make our own shit. Every bro is like a completely blank canvas, devoid of any color, and he gets to paint himself however the fuck he wants. Seriously, this blankness, this void, isn't just any ordinary property; it cuts to the very meaning of what it means to be a bro - a bro exists with being-for-itself, with an incompleteness that he must take care of himself.
Maybe you're thinking, "but Sartre - don't we have a clear description too? Walks around on two legs, usually between five-six and six-eight, hair up top and all that jazz?" Bro, I get it. Nothingness is scary at first. So much room to work, and so little guidance; the thought of nothingness horrifies us. So if you want to take the infinite potential that is that blank canvas and fill it with a physical description of yourself, then fucking be my guest. But you still have to do the work; it's not like you're achieving the certainty of being a chair that way. You're just refusing to face uncertainty; that doesn't make it go away. So my advice to you is man the fuck up, grab some colors, face the future boldly, and just fucking paint.
Don't paint a simple physical description of yourself; don't paint your job, or your stuff. You'll never have the safety of being-in-itself; you're wasting your time trying. Use your imagination; there are other voids with limitless potential. You can imagine what isn't, and that tells you what you are, and what you want to be; make it happen. Who cares if you fuck up here or there? Paint over it. Humanity isn't an 8x10 you get one shot at; nothingness isn't a cup you get to fill once. As time goes on, you'll see more possibilities, acquire new colors, learn new brushstrokes. But you don't get any of that if you don't start painting now. There's a good chance you'll never get it perfect. Whatever, bro. But you can know perfection through its absence; when you look at yourself and say, "almost! What if I just... that's closer, even!" That's how you can discover the truth of beauty - the drive to create is enough.
Of course, while you're out there doing work, you're going to run into other painters, other canvases; don't panic. Why do people always panic? All of a sudden bros act like they're not supposed to be painting, like they're going to get in trouble or something, as if he's supposed to go back to being a canvas when other painters around - what if he's better than me? What if he thinks what I've made myself is dumb? So bros stop painting and let other bros start painting on them, over everything they've created. And do you think other people give a shit about what you come out as? If you let them paint your canvas for you, they'll slap on whatever is convenient for them, and suddenly you're back to being your job, your stuff, how you look; if you let others define you, they will define you out of existence. So don't let them! But more importantly, don't be that asshole.
Again, this shit is easier said than done. Acknowledging the existential void, the vast emptiness of the self, is no small task; for some reason when people hear "You are nothing!" They respond with fear, not hope. We all want to be something, but we don't want to do the work; the temptation to let others do it, or to refuse to do it yourself, is great. Except that no one can actualize your vision better than you, so don't let them.
You know that couple that fucking hates each other, but they can't walk away? I know you know at least one. We all do. What do you think is going on there? They've both given themselves up to the other; he lets her paint his canvas (heh) and vice versa. But of course, they both fucking hate what the other is painting, since they each have a better sense of what they want to be, so they've given up their sense of self and now they resent the other for sucking. She's all like "I wouldn't put blue there, you asshole!" and he's all like, "bitch, that shouldn't be a circle!" but they've forgotten how to paint for themselves, how to face the world, the void, alone. That is the risk you run if you can't face the void alone; that is what you'll become. Who wants that?
We think we want peace and simplicity, which is why we want the safety of being-in-itself, why we tend to paint along the same lines, making small changes and slow improvements. But secretly, we fucking hate peace. We can imagine such greatness, and sometimes we just straight-up get restless. You're not beholden to anyone! If you're suddenly unhappy with what you are, why stay that way? We must not be afraid to start anew, to overthrow what we once were to make what we want; we must never be afraid to change. After all, the goddamn future is coming whether you like it or not; sorry, bro, but the void really is empty; stop pretending otherwise and get to work.
http://www.philosophybro.com/
Camus' "The Myth of Sisyphus": A Summary
Look, so, nothing matters, right? Shit's fucking weird. We all want to know how the universe ultimately works or who's running the show or whatever, and it turns out - TRICK. FUCKING. QUESTION. No one's running the show, and the world is unreasonable. Ever had some shit happen to you that made you go, "Why the fuck did that happen? There's no reason for that." Turns out, you were right. So our attempts to impose reason on the world will fail. Death and taxes, my friend. Death and motherfucking taxes.
So what do we do? What's the point? Should we just end it if nothing matters? No, says Camus, thats the pussy way out. Instead, we should embrace the fact that nothing makes sense. Don Juan, the fuckaholic that started it all, he embraced the absurd. Life has no meaning, so he. fucked. everything. He didn't try to impose meaning or find meaning or make his own meaning - that shit is useless, and Camus says there's no hope for that, so cut it the fuck out.
Sisyphus, same thing. Sisyphus was punished because he chained death up so humans could live forever, he didn't give a fuck about what the gods said about fate. He was like, "fuck that, I do what I want." When that didn't work, the gods told him he had to roll a boulder up a hill again and again, forever. Sounds like it sucks, right? So why is Sisyphus so goddamned pleased with himself? Because all any of us is doing is rolling boulders up hills, and every time the boulder rolls back down, we're all like "Dude, what the fuck?! I spent all goddamn day rolling that boulder. Fuck." But Sisyphus knows it doesn't matter. He sees it coming. The gods already told him, "What you're doing is meaningless." Once he knew that, he could let go and just be content. Because there's never anything to do except roll boulders. Your options are get pissed when they roll back down, or chill out and not let it bother you. Be content. If you have to do something, you might as well accept it and do it as well as you can. Being pissy just makes you more miserable.
So, to embrace the absurd, you have to acknowledge that life is absurd and live it anyway. Not because you hope you're wrong, but because you know you're right, but living is more fun than not.
Hobbes' "Leviathan, Books I and II": A Summary
Everything is made of particles, and they're constantly bumping into each other. It's how shit moves, but that's not all - it's how you think, and how you speak, and how you imagine; we all interact based on the motion of these particles, and it has one very important consequence:
Dudes are fucking dicks.
Seriously, there's no way around it. Have you ever seen a guy acting like an asshole and thought, "What a fucking asshole?" Well, Spoiler Alert: You're an asshole too. Everyone is an asshole - there's no avoiding it. It's a motherfucking law of nature, like gravity or John Stamos' hair. And if we're allowed to do whatever the fuck we want, shit gets real real, real fast. One greedy motherfucker steals something , some bro preempts him with his own attack, some other guy tries to show everyone else how big his dick is, and suddenly everyone is trying to kill everyone else.
And there's only one way to fix it. It's not pretty, but it's fucking super-effective.
First, we all make a contract to chill the fuck out, together. But what if some asshole is like, "No, I will not chill the fuck out?" How do we handle that? I'm glad you asked. We all pick one bro and give him absolute power. I don't mean that if he asks nicely, we think about listening; his job isn't to make sure everyone plays fair, or to tell you that you're special no matter what anyone says. Fuck that noise. Absolute. Fucking. Power. Maybe it would help if I told you that Hobbes named him after the seven-headed soul-eating serpent-demon that guards the gates of Hell. Simon Says, asshole. He does what the fuck he wants, and he's kind of a big deal.
But why does one bro need all that power? His job is to make sure everyone stays chilled out, and it's not an easy job, since we're all such assholes. Remember that part in Harry Potter 6 when Dumbledore tells Harry, "No matter what I say, don't stop feeding me this battery acid" or whatever it was? We all say to the ruler, "No matter what we say in the future, don't let us try to kill each other." So that when the inner assholes come out, he knows to put his foot down, execute a few dudes, and keep the fucking peace. And believe me - that's going to happen. You're going to try to kill someone. It's inevitable.
A strong ruler is a necessary evil, dude. Yes, you are going to hate him. He'll be kind of a dick sometimes. That's only natural. Besides, it sucks way less than the alternative. So when you want to complain, just remember: you brought this on yourself by being a dickhead and trying to kill everyone. Sorry he's not sorry.
Why only one bro? Why not a bunch? Because that's wasteful. They'll fight as much as we all fought when there were no bros in charge. Besides, when it's only one bro, he knows he has to fucking deliver - he can't live like a bro-king unless his subjects are doing well. Trust me - pick one really smart bro, and let him handle it. He'll take care of you.
What's that? You still want freedom of speech? Um, no. Why not? Because you would use it to piss other people off. And then they would want to kill you, and there would be riots, and he'd have to send in soldiers to enforce chillitude. It's not worth it. So shut your whore mouth and we'll all be happier for it.
You want to worship who you want? Are you out of your fucking mind? Bro, nothing makes people fight like religion. That's why the bro-king gets to choose who you worship. God knows what's up - if God wanted to talk to someone, he'd talk to the badass motherfucker in charge . It doesn't matter that much to you anyway - what do you care if you worship at 8AM or 9AM on Sunday? Is it worth people trying to kill you to be right? I didn't think so.
In conclusion, you're a dickhead and can't be trusted to handle your business on your own. That's what serpent-demon rulers are for, bro.
Nietzsche's "Thus Spoke Zarathustra": A Summary
Your humanity is conditional, and if that makes you uncomfortable, you're doing it wrong. Maybe you didn't hear, but God is dead. And good. fucking. riddance. Except, for some reason, people won't let him go and it's going to destroy humanity. Everything you've ever thought was right or wrong, you thought because someone told you. And they only told you because someone told them. But how the hell could they possibly know better than you? Who the fuck put them in charge? The Great Big Dead Guy in the sky? Fuck that. Let them waste their lives trying to please others who exist and Others who don't.
Seriously. We have limitless potential, and we're wasting it worrying about sin and Hell and Heaven. And maybe you don't actually believe in any of that. You think that makes you better than anyone else? Wrong answer, asshole. It makes you worse.
At least believers can tell you exactly why they're pissing their lives away; see for yourself. Ask one. "Why do you hate sex, joy, and the human spirit?" "Oh. Because I believe in a non-physical deity who told me that if I hated them, I'd spend the rest of eternity in paradise." It's batshit crazy, right? But at least he's sticking to his guns. Agree to disagree, whatever. But if you don't believe that bullshit, then why the hell are you sitting around wondering what's left? It's because you DO believe that bullshit, you're just too scared to admit it. Fuck, bro, you almost made it out - you saw through the lies and said, "Nope, fuck that." But then you fell into the same old pattern of worrying about right and wrong, about patriotism and politics, about tolerance and government and fairness, about all measure of bullshit - all you've done is replaced the bullshit you know with the bullshit you don't.
I'm not saying nothing matters, and fuck people who think that. What matters? YOU matter. Want to know the secret to being happy? It's easy. I'll tell you. Just do what makes you happy. Oh, shit, look at how easy that is! It's like magic! TA-DA, BITCHES! Stop letting anyone tell you what 'happiness' is, or what should make you happy, or why you should be guilty for being happy. You know what happiness is. You know how to experience joy, or you would if you just let go of how everyone else has told you how to be.
Humanity isn't an end, it's a fork in the road, and you have two options: "Animal" and "Superman". For some reason, people keep going left, the easy way, the way back to where we came from. Fuck 'em. Other people just stand there, staring at the signposts, as if they're going to come alive and tell them what to do or something. Dude, the sign says fucking "SUPERMAN". How much more of a clue do these assholes want? How does that not sound awesome? But they're paralyzed by their fear - "But, that road looks hard to walk." It IS hard, dipshit, but that's what makes it worth it! Fuck.
Look, bro, time goes on forever; everything that can happen is going to happen, and then it's going to happen again. Are you okay with that? Can you stomach the thought of living your life again and again, with no regrets? Not just stomach it; does that thought make you happy? If it doesn't, then you've got some work to do. Here are some good places to start: Dance more often. Laugh at EVERYTHING. And above all else, Thyne own will be done, not anyone else's. Anyone who tells you it's not fair or it's not right or that you should do anything you don't want to is lying to you, and I promise you they're miserable and mediocre. Be done with that. It's not that you only get one life - if only it were that simple. You get more lives than you can imagine, but only one. fucking. chance. to define them for eternity. Stop wasting it. Go and live, now and forever!
Jean-Paul Sartre's "Being and Nothingness": A Summary
First of all, fuck Kant.
Why is his shit so needlessly complicated? A whole world we can't talk about or know anything about? Then how the fuck can he possibly talk about it? What if the world is just exactly the way we see it? Why complicate things even further? Don't tell me I can't get to the chairness of a chair - it's a pretty simply concept, chairness - it's just being a chair. Legs, maybe a cushion, and you sit in it. Can't stop being a chair. Was that so hard?
Look - there are two ways to exist in this world. Chairs just are the way they are, they have being-in-itself. There's nothing special about them. But bros? Oh man, bros are a whole different story. There's no intrinsic broness we all have; we get to make our own shit. Every bro is like a completely blank canvas, devoid of any color, and he gets to paint himself however the fuck he wants. Seriously, this blankness, this void, isn't just any ordinary property; it cuts to the very meaning of what it means to be a bro - a bro exists with being-for-itself, with an incompleteness that he must take care of himself.
Maybe you're thinking, "but Sartre - don't we have a clear description too? Walks around on two legs, usually between five-six and six-eight, hair up top and all that jazz?" Bro, I get it. Nothingness is scary at first. So much room to work, and so little guidance; the thought of nothingness horrifies us. So if you want to take the infinite potential that is that blank canvas and fill it with a physical description of yourself, then fucking be my guest. But you still have to do the work; it's not like you're achieving the certainty of being a chair that way. You're just refusing to face uncertainty; that doesn't make it go away. So my advice to you is man the fuck up, grab some colors, face the future boldly, and just fucking paint.
Don't paint a simple physical description of yourself; don't paint your job, or your stuff. You'll never have the safety of being-in-itself; you're wasting your time trying. Use your imagination; there are other voids with limitless potential. You can imagine what isn't, and that tells you what you are, and what you want to be; make it happen. Who cares if you fuck up here or there? Paint over it. Humanity isn't an 8x10 you get one shot at; nothingness isn't a cup you get to fill once. As time goes on, you'll see more possibilities, acquire new colors, learn new brushstrokes. But you don't get any of that if you don't start painting now. There's a good chance you'll never get it perfect. Whatever, bro. But you can know perfection through its absence; when you look at yourself and say, "almost! What if I just... that's closer, even!" That's how you can discover the truth of beauty - the drive to create is enough.
Of course, while you're out there doing work, you're going to run into other painters, other canvases; don't panic. Why do people always panic? All of a sudden bros act like they're not supposed to be painting, like they're going to get in trouble or something, as if he's supposed to go back to being a canvas when other painters around - what if he's better than me? What if he thinks what I've made myself is dumb? So bros stop painting and let other bros start painting on them, over everything they've created. And do you think other people give a shit about what you come out as? If you let them paint your canvas for you, they'll slap on whatever is convenient for them, and suddenly you're back to being your job, your stuff, how you look; if you let others define you, they will define you out of existence. So don't let them! But more importantly, don't be that asshole.
Again, this shit is easier said than done. Acknowledging the existential void, the vast emptiness of the self, is no small task; for some reason when people hear "You are nothing!" They respond with fear, not hope. We all want to be something, but we don't want to do the work; the temptation to let others do it, or to refuse to do it yourself, is great. Except that no one can actualize your vision better than you, so don't let them.
You know that couple that fucking hates each other, but they can't walk away? I know you know at least one. We all do. What do you think is going on there? They've both given themselves up to the other; he lets her paint his canvas (heh) and vice versa. But of course, they both fucking hate what the other is painting, since they each have a better sense of what they want to be, so they've given up their sense of self and now they resent the other for sucking. She's all like "I wouldn't put blue there, you asshole!" and he's all like, "bitch, that shouldn't be a circle!" but they've forgotten how to paint for themselves, how to face the world, the void, alone. That is the risk you run if you can't face the void alone; that is what you'll become. Who wants that?
We think we want peace and simplicity, which is why we want the safety of being-in-itself, why we tend to paint along the same lines, making small changes and slow improvements. But secretly, we fucking hate peace. We can imagine such greatness, and sometimes we just straight-up get restless. You're not beholden to anyone! If you're suddenly unhappy with what you are, why stay that way? We must not be afraid to start anew, to overthrow what we once were to make what we want; we must never be afraid to change. After all, the goddamn future is coming whether you like it or not; sorry, bro, but the void really is empty; stop pretending otherwise and get to work.
http://www.philosophybro.com/