Something not all of us realise is that we can just say, “No.” We can look at the hand we’ve been dealt, stare deep into the eyes of the dealer, and tell him, “No.” That’s the thing about life: everywhere we go, everything we do is so thickly saturated with artificial meaning that we are told is and convinced of as being real and absolute that we almost detach from the simplicity of our own humanity. We are primates with impressive brains, that’s all. Just as any wild beast may decide to rise and head west if something about his present climate displeases him, so too can we rise and figuratively (or literally) head west if ours displeases us. We are just as much creatures of the earth, mere living, breathing, fallible things, but we forget this. We become detached from it. Social custom and social pressures restrict us, but inside we are free, wild roaming beasts.
I think, in life, we’re all granted the opportunity to make some wild mistakes. I think sometimes we can be walking down one path and of a sudden realise, “Holy shit, this is the wrong way”. There’s a certain social pressure to press on and continue in that direction regardless–save face and suck it up; don’t be a quitter–but in reality we have the option to say no. Mistakes are allowed to be made.
I think my mistake was thinking I wanted to study the Italian language in a serious capacity. I realise now where my mistake lies. I should have realised long ago upon constant and various questioning: “So, why Italian?” I could never answer that question. Why Italian indeed? The truth is, I confused a general interest in language learning and a desire for adventure in life with the concept of passion. I’m not passionate about language learning; it’s just a thing I find fascinating and enjoy doing. When I speak of passion, I’m speaking of that burning thing inside that fuels itself. That quality that draws you in and drives you even through the tough, dull, or dreadful times.
Outside of the broader category of writing (externalising thought into a solid form through the medium of language, finding the best way to dress that externalisation), I think philosophy is a passion of mine. I genuinely love philosophy. It intrigues me and I can be pulled to sit for hours upon hours in a library just to understand it. I can answer, “Why philosophy?” Philosophy is an attempt to order the world with the most honest tool we have: reason. Philosophy is science where science hasn’t touched, or will not or cannot touch. Philosophy is trying to spark light in the dark. It can often seem silly or pointless, but then a lot of things that regular people care a great deal about seem silly or pointless to me too.
What am I getting at here? I think I want to transfer to full philosophy. I’ve thought about it and I imagine this means being pulled back a year, but it truly seems like the right choice for me. I hope this is an option, because if it isn’t, they will be forcing me down a road that I swear is not the right way.
Anyway, I’ve sent an email. We’ll see what happens. I don’t know. I don’t know.
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