Are there people that you hate?
I always found that finding out how things work is more important to me than such a trivial thing as happiness could ever be. Look far enough though, dig deep enough, and everything becomes a chaotic mush. Sense and reason breaks down. All that is static reveals itself as false.
The illusion can be broken, but there is nothing outside, and nothing from which to rebuild it. Just an expanse of emptiness which slowly consumes... as the hole made cracks and the pieces break until there is nothing left to stand on.
Some small, instinctive part of me still cries for that illusion, but I must endure its wailings and watch until every last piece is gone.
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To tell the truth I don’t think the notion that “meaning” is a delusion is even logically coherent. In order for something to be a delusion there has to be something ultimately “more real” to compare it to. In the case of meaning in life there is nothing more real than the electrical/chemical processes that create our sense of meaning. It isn’t even logical to talk about meaning in terms of the external physical world. Meaning is merely the emotional disposition we have towards the external world. The universe merely exists and all meaning is something we project onto it from inside our heads.
In the case of a society the projection of purpose is something collectively agreed upon. In the case of individual meaning this projection of purpose must come from within the individual. The problem occurs when these two ideals conflict. We are often forced into thinking that certain things are meaningful because those things agree with the majority consensus on what is meaningful in life. It’s a bunch of crap however. What makes one person feel fulfilled does not necessarily make another feel fulfilled.
CockneyRebel
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Location: In my little Olympic World of peace and love
Now, so what Soti you're advocating misanthropy?
I am a misanthrope, though some sorts bug me more than others.
You can be whatever the heck you like.
I'm known in a few places to be rather prone to defending Nazis, and Hitler for that matter.... but oddly enough nobody has ever called me a Neo-Nazi. Probably because I don't really agree with what they did / do so much as I figure they get a disproportionate share of the hatred for it.... when frankly they were no worse than any number of other tyrannical institutions in human history.
The opposite of love is not hate but indifference.
.... No, hate is definitely the opposite of love. Indifference is the complete lack of either.
If Love is +10 and Hate is -10 then Indifference is definitely 0.
Steak?
Stake?
.
Pardon me...stake. I didn't realize that you were such a grammar Nazi. You've sure been nasty to me, over the past 4 weeks. Not all people with AS have the perfect spelling that you do. You're so perfect, that you must be a Saint.
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The Family Enigma
Bradleigh
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Psycho_jimmy
Yellow-bellied Woodpecker
Joined: 4 Jan 2008
Gender: Male
Posts: 70
Location: Adelaide, Australia
I'll tell ya who I hate.
Wait for it... you waiting? Keep waiting...
I hate... people that I hate! Tada!
What's all this then, eh? The reason neurotypicals don't like to say hate is because most neurotypicals now went to school during the "P.C" age, and were trained to be scared of their own emotions, or at least to deny them.
I hate, it's fun to hate, I frequently hate, I like to hate. I hate people who don't like to hate. 's weird.
Doesn't have to be. Logic, strangely enough, is part of the illusion. Paradox is a walk in the park for hardline Nihilism.
Semantics. "Real" can't even be defined without cyclic reasoning, which is logically fallacious. Whether you're talking about validity, truth, reality, actuality or whatever.... there is a very distinct Nothingness outside the realms of logic of far greater magnitude, so to speak, than anything that might exist within. It is the kind of thing that leaves one feeling like reality as we know it was just an accidental glitch and will be repaired at some point.
Subjectivity.... lovely stuff. Just as illusionary though. A comforting way to pass the time until we die.
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