The Grotesquely Cognizant Sentience of Mutating Meat

General Category => Why Mathematics? => Topic started by: _id_Crisis_ on October 22, 2018, 08:34:01 pm

Title: I love the sadness that consumes me
Post by: _id_Crisis_ on October 22, 2018, 08:34:01 pm
Knowing just how contradictory this must sound, I will state it anyway. 

I kind of enjoy the calm sadness which flows through me as I study mathematics.   A voice says, "could this be all there is?"    or  "So, this is as good as it gets?"

And I answer with a resounding yes.   Yes, this is as good as it gets!   Yes, this is most preferable to chasing euphoria or oblivion.   There is joy in my sadness.  I wish I could explain it more descriptively, but I've lost my lust for purple adjectives.

I find it hard to imagine that someone else might not find solace in synthetic division, but all I can do is be thankful that I am actually comforted by a humble kind of sadness while engaged in some boring computation or calculation.

I prefer this to being consumed by the overwhelming fears of another. 

It helps me detach from other people's financial nightmares.

Some problems (like money problems) don't really have a solution. 

To be honest, sometimes I get sick of hearing my mother on the phone complaining about her financial woes.  I give all I can, but I am sorry if I do not feel responsible for the great debts.

Sometimes I get tired of hearing about it all.   I just want to study some more math.

I don't think money and finance has anything to do with math.   They try to make financial advisors, bankers, and power-brokers appear to be some kind of math wizards, but I seriously doubt it is the case.

Someone gets a million dollars and invests it.

There are no formulas which will make a poor man wealthy except for the "magical" kind of formulas which enable us to appreciate what we have.   If I can find great peace in working diligently through old text books, maybe I have more inner wealth than those ambitious gorts who demand so much more from themselves.

I refuse to envy gangsters, pimps, sluts, gladiators, loan sharks, jewelers, wedding planners, campaign managers, etc.    Is there a way for us to relish our own misery, to love our own misery to such an extent that we have nothing but disdain for the commoditized happiness being advertized in automobile and smart phone commercials?   They think we're all gorts out here.  The advertizers may not be aware that many of us are immune to giving a shiit how we measure up with Bizarroland's metrics.

There has got to be a way to not merely escape from reality, but to transcend it.  What did Schopenhauer write about the man in the dungeon who might possess more inner wealth than prince in his father's palace?

That's the kind of inner wealth I am greedy for.

I want the old texts to take on a glow!   I want my sadness to be a secret kind of joy, and for the drudgery of arithmetic to be transformed into some kind of mystical ecstasy.

Wouldn't it be great poetic justice to discover some kind of mystical transcendence or quasi-salvation in a boring old math textbook while everyone else is looking in some "holy scriptures" or poetry.

After all this, I can still sympathize with the one who sits alone in a room sipping on hard liquor.

Title: Re: I love the sadness that consumes me
Post by: _id_Crisis_ on June 18, 2019, 11:11:32 pm
I seem to be losing the desire to express myself.