rooftop

Ocean

I used to think I was a really deep thinker. I guess it contributed to the "old soul" vibe that she thought I had. I'd talk about life and death and morality and freedom and truth and sadness and I thought I was so special for attempting to tackle such vast and complex concepts. Then I realized I wasn't deep at all - everyone else I knew was just shallow. But in some way, everybody thinks they're a philosopher, including me. I mean, the entire point of writing these is to sound cool while talking about things that have been said before... which makes this entry kind of ironic. I guess the only redeeming quality is that I write to genuinely explore my subject, so I learn new things through doing so.

There's a subtle but vast difference between the levels of thought, which becomes especially difficult to articulate considering how shallow the word "deep" has become. The majority of people are at a point only slightly further than surface-level thinking; they are aware of something more, but can't quite articulate their thought nor comprehend it. Then there are the internet warriors and teenage theorists, who are worshipped by their peers for "fighting the power" and using fancy words to argue their point. These are the ones who will use google once in a while to search up the perfect caption for their new post to make sure their friends know how deep they are. Be wary of these, for they pervert the study of life for those who really want to examine it.

There's a difference between philosophy as a study of the fundamental nature of existence and thinking for the sake of having something to say. On one hand you have centuries of exploration into systems of thought, volumes of texts, and people who have spent their lives in pensivity; on the other, you have quotes ignorantly used out of context from ancient thinkers and modern rappers alike, stating and restating of the obvious, and words. Lots of words.

If philosophy is an ocean, we are children splashing around in the pool across the street pretending to be pirates. We wade in at the shallow end, taking pictures of the water for the aesthetic. We convince our friends that this is the ocean and start teaching them that water is blue and hurts your eyes and will get you wet. We are adults commenting on the beach and the ocean surface, describing how beautiful it looks from a distance as though no one else can see it. Any oceanographer would laugh at their ignorance, but there aren't enough oceanographers for that to matter - no one wants to be an oceanographer anymore. Why would they need to, when they can see the ocean so easily anyway?

We know how to swim, but we haven't been taught how to manage the currents or sail in strong tides or navigate using only the stars and a compass. We've never had to. And so we drown.