There’s a paradox that lies at the center of experience. A mental diaspora that pushes thought and thinking further and further from its origin some few hundred thousand years ago or perhaps even earlier. It’s found in the metaphor of Friedrich Nietzsche collapsing in despair in front of a horse being whipped without mercy by its supposed master. By the death of philosophy in the pursuit of total control, of productivity, of materialism or the realism of material. The mental model of the universe is totalitarian and merciless, it is a master that is so out of touch with the child that weeps inside of him that he will crush it under his boot as he would an insect, with disdain and hatred all without realizing that it is his innocence that he fears so rabidly. I feel like Nietzsche does, I feel like the kingdom that consciousness offers, that philosophy and the responsibility of being aware and alive and dedicated to the continuation of such awareness and aliveness is a dedication to a horse being whipped to death by a tyrant who is so lost, so hopelessly lost, that all he knows is how to destroy. The adage the beatings will continue until moral improves is the world we live in and it’s a world that no one wants to live in.