Drunken Musings

Life is complicated. This is known to all that care to glance at the passing moments of life - as the particular. I am no philosopher, but I have been guided by the light of their knowledge.

If Hegel is right, and that woman represents the universal, then I may just concede defeat in this department.

Feeling is more than an accident, yet it stems from the accident of circumstance, of accident. It appears out of nowhere, yet is so profound in its effects that it embroils one with questions of moral obligation, tolerance and the like, and infiltrates the soul with such a sentiment as to cause everything from anxiety to fear and love.

I suppose, then, that I am no more a woman than Hegel proposes. For my feelings become my very being. Obsession takes over, and I am lost to anything else. While my rationality continues to prevail over the desire, the pain and angst of tragedy continue to obscure my view of the world. The inclinations of desire demote my practical to the theoretical, though in reverse, and I can do nothing but act in opposition to it in an attempt to dissolve it. As of yet, no luck. But I continue on my road, which seems to be the ultimately human road, of commitment and duty, and rationality. I continue in my solitude, and while I know I will persevere, I too understand that it is not necessarily what I desire, or what ought to be, but what ultimately is, and hence, am obligated. That does not make it better, or worthy of merit, or credit. It simply makes it what is. Understanding that is, is all that it takes to continue on - perhaps not in contented circumstance, but at least in comfort of where I stand.