Philosophy is unavailing

Philosophers dwell in the margins of sanity, their minds fractured by the weight of thought.

Philosophy solves no problem; it conjures emptiness from thin air and calls it meaning. The unknowing live without fear. The thirst for knowledge does not elevate the soul—it hollows it.

It leads one not to clarity, but to a void. It estranges the thinker from the world, rendering them unreadable, distant. In its wake, passion fades, emotions dim, joy recedes. What makes us human slips quietly away. Philosophy mourns the modern soul’s fragmentation, yet in doing so, it mutilates itself. A cruel joke—tragic and infernal.

It brings no peace, no comfort. Only faith can do that. Only love can warm the heart.

The world looms like a storm cloud: the more intently you gaze, the more it slips from view.

So, my friend, let it go. Let philosophy wither in the dust. Embrace the vulgar, the trivial, the joyful distractions of life. For though all ends in the same abyss, at least this path dances with laughter before the fall.