My biggest drive is to cultivate my spirit. I will to enrich my spirit.
The aesthetics. It demands desire that withstands time and scrutiny of honesty.
What I create should perfectly capture my spirit in all its imperfect richness.
World should overflow with this aesthetic.
That world is what I deeply desire. I want to be in that world and be that world.
And yet, time and time again, though with less frequency, it saddens me in moments of realization
that there is very little of aesthetics in this world, because there is little sensibility and appreciation for it.
There was a time when I romanticized over social bond to others.
That there is something beautiful in the relationship between people.
While that’s true, I realized it is so only partially.
Relations between people also require tension.
That’s what solidarity is. To share the time and space in keeping the tension and conflict.
And humor is a good lubricator.
I have rubbed my own skin on some of these relations.
And I regret none because I can say with little hesitation now.
I no longer romanticize over the others.
The others are the biggest unknown, the object of fear, the God.
But they are also always a reflection of me, hence my foremost enemy.
Disappointment quickly mutates to disgust when I sense a hint of poverty in the spirits of others.
Comrade has become a dull word which lost this sense of contradiction.
They lack the sensibility and appreciation for aesthetics.
A comrade is not a dialectician.
I’m a humanist because I wish the human species to thrive.
So I’m also a humanist because I have no empathy for any poverty in human spirits.
If philosophers have for long understood the world in contradictions,
I admit after all, I’m an anti-social socialist.