Another thing I’ve realized is that now it is silly for me to be philosophical. Karl Jung and Freud would agree, though they would do so on so very little, that you have certain stages to overcome as you become a man. First you must be superficial, concerned with things of a physical and monetary nature. Then you must be successful at whatever endeavors you hope to undertake. Then you must be knowledgeable, intelligent, well-read, and learned. Finally, when you put the arrogance of books and muscles and money behind you, you can reach spirituality, thought, reason, and wisdom.
I’ve had Plato’s ladder to Philosopher King all upside-down and shit!
You see, I am trying too hard to be wise, (also admitting that I know nothing), and by doing so I’m putting the cart in front of the horse! I haven’t bettered myself in other areas of job, physique, health, athletic prowess, and monetary gain. How can I hope to master my understanding of sociology and epistemology and metaphysics when I don’t even understand my own body? It’s damned hypocritical, is what it is! From now on, I am going to enjoy what I enjoy in life, (for tomorrow we may die), but I’m also going to run several miles, do my damned crunches and chin ups. And you know what? I’ll feel fucking great after I do them, too. My first step towards self-realization has to be in the area of self-esteem. I put too much stock in all them fancy books. Nobody really cares, mind you, what Dostoevsky wrote or what Hegel said. And I’m only killing myself over this philosophical nonsense. Shut it off! Shut it off! Out damned spot!
But I do have luxuriant hair!