II
A veranda of an affluent home caught the eye of the philosopher as he walked home. His day had been uneventful but he had various scientific literature to read during the night. This wooden veranda somehow intrigued him, it looked out of place in a city and a small engraving was placed over an arch. It had the letters M I L O inexplicably surrounding 2 continuous lines forming at once a sine wave and a negative sine wave. He had only just consciously thought about the image after so many months walking past it and he instinctively chuckled, thoughts of wave structure matter fleeting through his mind.
Walking past a stranger like he would walk past another stranger, some childhood memories flickered within him. He started to again resent retrograde beliefs that still persisted in the world. Hatred welled up inside him and he imagined punching any fool that expressed ignorant viewpoints. He wanted another war to break out, a war that starts with a difference of fundamental ideas. Forget good and evil, he wanted the sides to be between prescriptive and descriptive, empirical and transcendental, constructive and destructive. Most of all he wanted a lot of people to die for whatever reason; given the overpopulation of the earth.
The suicidal entity walked home in deep reflection. Narcotics remedied his introversion and he was prone to binges from time to time. This evening would be one of them, he had no scheduled plans for nearly a week, so went into an off-license and bought their cheapest vodka and cider. He figured this would wash down his amphetamines nicely. A few drug-addled acquaintances were his only company some weekends, each as wretched as each other.
The weekend passed by with little excitement for the men, both in some hazed state where little external stimuli managed to pierce their humdrum meanderings. Indeed, the philosopher had argued with his ex-wife yet again, preparation for his working week seemed to be his best respite from his meagre relationship problems. Sleep was the main recourse of the other man.
Where was Pebble Mill in the schedule listing these days? The suicidal entity got fed up of daytime television long ago and was just biding his time before catching a bus to take him to his appointment with the philosophical orator. Was it Tuesday already? Both men paid little attention to the days passing by akin to an orchid’s consideration of heterophenomenology.
The formalities of greetings went by between the two men and they sat down facing each other. Conversation was hassle-free; both men giving their general views about existence. The philosopher took the lead and passed a lot of information to the suicidal entity, making a difference on the latter’s outlook. Though still fuzzy-headed, the suicidal entity took in a lot of what was orated and felt vindicated in his pursuit.
As the discussion deepened, the philosopher started to get agitated and his words portrayed an increasing cantankerousness. He particularly detested the suicidal entity's distasteful self-pity that appeared before him. Narcissism is expected nowadays and both these men started showing signs of this malady. The philosophical orator, for all his good intentions, long ago lost empathy for others and found it delightful to put people in their respective places – i.e. below him (even thinking that the introspection illusion cognitive bias couldn't possibly apply; as he was an expert on the subject). Meanwhile the suicidal entity had become so engrossed in every minor emotional problem that the feedback to his woes increased. What was once weltschmerz – world pain – had now become a debilitating self pity which shrouded his every thought.
The nitty-gritty continued: -
“So could you give me an example of a time you’ve felt overcome with despair? What about a time you can recall recently?” asked the philosopher.
“Well just last week I was in the pub with a few friends. More like acquaintances. Normally, this relaxes me and I can enjoy myself for a couple of hours, maybe. This time I found it difficult to have any sort of fun or conversation at all. I felt helpless and uneasy. I wanted to cry. I've no idea why I felt this way. Every face I turned to was unforgiving. It made me sad thinking about how I used to enjoy myself on nights out like those around me. Do you think drug abuse has made me this way?"
"There's no doubt that drug abuse has been linked to all sorts of emotional problems. But you should also consider the reasons behind your drug abuse in the first place. Some people hold the view that drug users are merely self-medicating to remedy some sort, of inherent chemical imbalance. The human brain is a complex thing but I believe chemical imbalances are only indicators, not necessarily the main reasons why people feel different emotions in similar circumstances. Maybe you should try giving up drink and drugs for a few weeks and see if that helps. Have you been to a doctor lately?”
“Not for at least a few months, why do you ask?”
“Ask the doctor about help on weaning yourself off drink/drugs and what medication he can prescribe you to help alleviate your need for getting high. By getting rid of the narcotics in your system, it will help me determine any underlying emotional or cognitive problems you may be experiencing. Tell me are you a spiritual person?” the philosopher enquired, raising his eyebrows.
“Not really. I think there must be something out there explaining the universe but I don’t know what”
“Do you care a lot about others? Have a well-developed social interest? Do you feel a lot of empathy towards people you know?”
“I’m pretty sure I do, I often find myself thinking about the plight of others” the suicidal entity responded without actually contemplating the question to its full extent. Maybe he didn’t appreciate mankind to its full extent and felt injustice in his plight. The philosopher digressed.
“Thinking about other people’s plight won’t help them out in any way whatsoever. A lot of charity workers and general do-gooders take great comfort and are significantly more contented in their lives than most other egotistical people. You should try helping others more. Or just listen to what other people say. Try not to be a camel though, or you might find yourself worse off with the weight of other people on your shoulders. Though it can strengthen your back and ultimately your resolve once the weight has been lifted”.
The suicidal entity looked perplexed but somehow found some meaning. Could he be a man afflicted with too much empathy? He couldn’t tell but hoped this old acquaintance would help him relieve the numbness that he felt.
“So what charity work do you think I should do, doctor?”, he foolishly enquired.
“Anything you desire to do, my young son.” replied the philosopher, who got incensed at being called a doctor by this flighty man.
“OK, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll have to start looking for a job first though, my rent is getting on top of me. Do you know of any charity work I could do that will pay me?” the suicidal man cynically asked.
The philosopher could sense the disparaging tone and decided he’d had enough of the proceedings but had still 10 minutes till the end of the ‘session’. Nonchalantly leaning back in his chair he stared at the suicidal entity and started to speak in an authoritative manner.
“The only charity work that pays is one where your heart starts beating the rhythm of the cosmos. Your pain obviously outweighs your coping strategies so you should start looking into the ether of life and find gratification wherever you think it will be found. Use your initiative. Construct a bridge or a metaphysical concept and time will fly by without many negative emotions coming into your mind. Construct a concept go on! I’ll help. Think of floating on an electromagnetic wave and the trajectory that you’ll float. Then think of a coordinate system that uses that trajectory as its axis. You're floating around with a coordinate system based around your trajectory! Come on think of other interjections or axiomatic logic you can put into the system. I’m helping you out here, give me a biscuit please” even the philosopher didn’t know exactly where this vocalization came from, he almost smiled.
“Where do you keep the biscuits? Sorry doctor, shall I come back another time? I’ll make sure to follow your advice, I promise”
“OK, don’t worry about the biscuits, we’ll meet again, go to a doctor and get more treatment. I can only show you the destination and not the path to choose, which is different for everyone”. He nodded and subtly gestured towards the door. The suicidal entity understood. After an uneasy amount of dithering, he left wondering if this was the best course of action. Nevertheless, he still made another appointment before departing and hoped for the best.