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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2268496-The-Sigh-of-a-Pessimist
Rated: 18+ · Prose · Philosophy · #2268496
Some thoughts on depression and expressing that sadness.
Metaphysical cancer rots my bones. At the very foundation of my being there lay a persistent nagging scepticism of existence itself. My own birth feels like an act of rape. The first domino to fall in a series of cascading tragedies. Every moment of pleasure tarnished by deep-seated resentment and ever-present nihilism.There is no words that I can use to encapsulate this loathing hatred I have for myself and everything around me. There is no philosophy to articulate. No legitimate justification to pinpoint.

I could list various traumatic experiences I've been through that have left me broken and bruised. I could come up with all sorts of rationales for why nature is cruel and why the world is an inhospitable place. I could drill ideological holes into the numerous competing philosophies that motivate societal conduct. I could highlight the absurd contrast between the human quest for meaning and the silent response of the cosmos in turn.

But all of this would be utterly futile. One can argue from dusk till dawn over whether or not a pessimistic world-view has any objective validity. But why would I even bother? The optimist is already sold on existence. Their heart lusts for life at every twist and turn no matter how dreadful it gets. And even if I were successful in converting them to the religion of negativity, is that really a victory? To awaken them from that peaceful slumber of normality into the cold desert of reality as I see it. I'd rather let them dream. They will never understand and even if they did... it would better if they didn't.

Pessimism is a dead end. A perennial graveyard of consolation for the world's depressives. Sadness without explanation is a disease for which sadly there is no cure. To live in quietude expunged of hope is my cross to bear. Besides, there is a certain amount of virtue to be had in stoic silence. There is no good reason why I am depressed. I don't need one. All I know is that I would rather not know anything at all. And I doubt that will ever change. Best to keep such tribulations to myself.
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