Socrates Revisited

I am currently re-reading Plato's "Republic", which is composed of a series of dialogues that ask some of the most basic questions of epistemology and the orgin of law and morality. The very foundations of the accepted modern as well as ancient moral norms are carefully and expertly questioned with incredible analysis of the concept thereafter. The reason for my introduction isn't from the assumption that the reader hasn't read the work, but rather to draw their attention to a Socratic quote that seems to be the complete focus of my attentions, at least from this past weekend and now. The quote actually comes from Plato's "Apology", but was discussed quite lavishly by the introductary notes of "Republic". "A life unexamined is not worth living" is the perplexing quote from Socrates. Its meaning is both literal and metaphoric, but heres the problem: I just cant get it. Does it mean that in ignorance and sloth that life becomes obsolete? If so, I can't help but feel horribly dead. So while this weekend, as I tried to write several papers and do a bit of self-reflection, i've realized my approach to life hasn't been the accurate path followed, rather I have attached lazily to the social norms and realities of suburban lifestyle, weighted heavily with the chains of mental slavery to the bandwagon. Even the study of these Socratic ideas isn't justice to their enormously powerful potential. I will now further my existence. This has been the "carpe diem" mentality of my entire weekend, following my completion of necessary schoolwork. I left with my friends on Saturday night up to San Francisco, and had one of the best times of my entire life. Running around and going out to eat, partying all night, meeting complete strangers and having them tag along,  and all of it carefully revisited at every opportunity. Thank goodness for cameras, or I wouldn't believe a word of it. Now begins my march foreward into a more purposed and meaningful lifestyle. 

A Ficticious Work of Fact

What to write about? Why write at all. Too much of my life has happened in the past 72 hours. You know when you have epiphany compounded into higher or "deeper" understanding of who you might be one day? Wherein a seemingly short and complex timeframe, and by that I mean near lapse in perception of reality. Lost in your own mind, finding new pursuits and excitement from nothing but conciousness. I find i'm often there, one might call it the ultimate high. Here is the scoop: i'm moving to Europe in September, again. This time it's a discovery of the self, and self-induced. Some things happen, or at least seem to, at random and unexpected times. I put it to you that there are other things at work; perhaps i'm just speculating, but why not share the process of thought? Or would you rather not hear it? I find myself, doing what I love, to be a complete ever-burning body in orbit with others, with everyone really. But again, what does this mean? Is the study of academia, (its parts, cogs, workings), the purpose of the institution in the first place? I find that i've learned more perhaps in the company of peers and other students than I could studying under many Professors. Thats not to say that I degrade the pursuit of knowledge, but rather I examine it and accept other realities. There are cross-overs between much of the commonly accepted device of formal academic study and my own. 

In other words, Sade is just amazing! But really, if you haven't just sat there, anywhere and listened to "Kiss of Life", you just havent lived. Close your eyes and do it! It only takes a couple minutes...

And check out the band called "The Whitest Boy Alive". Bad name, I know. In fact, check out the song "Golden Cage". Love you all! (By the way, the Fred Falke remix of this song is even better!)

The Curse of Apathy

If there is no passion, in anything at all, we loose the essence of being. I have great ideas, plans, opinions, and determinations, but alone I feel no sense of validity. So much of me feels entirely helpless and unsustainable for so many reasons. This depression has turned into a figurative reality for me despite how I tried to insulate myself. Rather, I found there was no insulation, just a denial of reality. I have a reality: passion. It might be the one consistency I have now, refering to my life back at school and not back in Europe, where I spent the past year studying and living; truely living. Last night I crashed into a tree and fell unconcious, albiet for only a few seconds, but all the same. This event would be foolish to interpret as any form of "sign", but I cant help but look at it as a profound marker and excuse to change. I want to be nothing but myself. That is to say I will act upon my thoughts and beliefs, with minimal or no regard for outer interference. Here's the best part: I'm in love. For the first time in my life, I can truely live in coexistence with another whom I liken to the greatest friend one could ever imagine, who will grab your hand at just the right moment and go running with you off into the unknown. It reeks of good taste. It is mine and ours. Its like looking out the window of a jet as it takes off. Its like the best night out with your friends. Its like looking in the mirror and smiling like you have been blind your whole life and now you can see. Like your favorite song playing at just the right time. It's me. I feel like Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglass at the end of "Romancing the Stone" as they ride off into eternity; with a great soundtrack. I have the best comparison! It might be like closing your eyes, with closed headphones, and listening to Jamiroquai on a shag rug.* That all being said, i'm so glad I didn't die flying over a cliff last night. It just would have been in bad taste. 

*Yes I am a HUGE dork. 

(Comming next week: Sade, how the hell do you do it?)