Fleeing 1.0

Look at the sand trickle through your fingers, look at how little you have left, almost nothing (haha). Fleeing takes place in the structure of our w[h]o-maninty. Fleeing from the possibility of being-at-all into the security of the familiar fallen state. A familiar analysis to be sure. Fleeing takes place also when faced with the problem we created which contains the clue which cannot be solved on its own level and can only be bypassed by entering into the already-there. The problem is the gaps, the holes everywhere and the realisation that if we unthink them, we still do not have a truly satisfying answer and yet when we ontologically bypass them, they nag us in our epistemological bones.

What is behind you? Nothing! Reach your hand into it, nothing is there. Close your eyes and though you can feel the world beneath you and breath and hear, recognise that you float now in a semi undifferentiated state. Reach your arms out into this void and wonder if you might reach into some other place that your arm could never have reached other wise, that your hand might grasp something frightful, open you eyes and return here quickly, it is much safer…

Flee in the face of this, say there is nothing to it, that it is a madness and a conceit to play on this horizon. But it will not go away, it is always available to you in many ways. But this is not philosophy! You say. What is not philosophy? What is philosophy? Know that these concepts have no stability. Reification is madess. There is no philosophy, a ragged emperor turned gypsy. Or more still, a nyarlahotep at the edge of the other disciplines. Yet this chaos is more real than they. Look at the sand trickle, trickle through your fingers, look how little you have left…

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