Restoration

It is all too apparent that the last hundred or so entries have been a restorative attempt at remembering something lost, or something that appeared initially in abstract and was never clarified or expressed with sufficient coherence at the time. And now I refuse to slow down this process of elucidation which is by this point reaching a certain saturation point and clarity that was only halfway complete when it was still rudimentary. Unlike Nietzsche I am neither an optimistic or a skeptic. What I can be sure of is that I am here and that this is a here which stretches back in time in unconscious detail which is very difficult to retrieve; only to psycho-analyse myself and to treat myself as an object through which understanding can be attained can I possible resolve certain questions which I have been asking for endless time. 

I do not intend to answer in the concrete. I simply mean to draw focus back to the main protagonists who were barely allowed to prosper in their respective eras. Albert Einstein and Alexander Bogdanov are especially misunderstood but then so are Friedrich Nietzsche and Carl Jung. What is even more astonishing is that Fyodor Dostoevsky and Marcel Proust were not understood in their time. What am I frustrated with? Allow me no further waiting: I am interested in the expression of the absurdity of reality as it is accepted in the general. The fact that for the most part we do not suspend our assumptions or our value judgments as these particular writers and scientists were capable of is of profound importance in where my focus is about to be drawn. The propagation of the emotion or the moral framework, or justice, even, without an adequate understanding of what these things mean is astonishing.

And formidable attempts have been made, whether obliterating the perceived physical distance between humanity (Bogdanov) or dismantling and restructuring the way the cosmos is perceived (Einstein). Nietzsche displayed animosity towards morality without any actual human effort, and Jung demonstrated in opposition to Freud (that maker of assumptions and propagator of reductive simplicity) an understanding of the unconscious which could be expanded upon. Dostoevsky understood human suffering as necessary to understanding, and Proust the same. Though Proust made an extension upon this and argued that the only perceptible way of understanding the universe was through mind and the crossover between human minds. 

I suppose what I had at haphazard put to the side was how cutting I used to be, and how if I tried to understand something I would most certainly try to understand it well. And when these famished wolves of literature and human thought prowling on the scarcity of game at their disposal finally get cross-referenced, and are merged into a certain unity that has been mulling in my own thought for some time I should have a veritable tapestry of ideas.