Anxiety is neither a category of necessity nor a category of freedom; it is entangled freedom, where freedom is not free in itself but entangled, not by necessity, but in itself.

Søren Kierkegaard, The Concept of Anxiety

The problem with philosophy is that it never answers why. Philosophy is a history of questions that we tend to so they never grow wild. "Do you shovel to survive or survive to shovel?"

Free will is a way of talking about moral responsibility; moral responsibility is a way of asking why did you hurt me? Why did you hurt me never has a right answer. Please, I just need a minute. Give me some space.

We build systems whenever we want to pretend there's something there, as if someone hadn't placed a mirror in our path. A priori, we prefer ourselves; a posteriori, we avoid ourselves. Ideology is another name for guilt. What do you feel guilty for? Hey, it's okay. Tell me, what's going on?

Philosophy is the game we play when we don’t know how to live with ourselves. We build the courthouse of reason when we need to hide and there’s no one there to hold us and tell us it’s alright. You can forgive yourself. I promise. 

Remember that you read with breath and body. When Descartes asked "am I?" he did so with his diaphragm. René was scared that he'd disappear. Whenever we disappear, we become too much. Blow out the candle and come under the blanket with me. In the quiet we appear again.

Stop asking the universe why. Lay heartbeat to heartbeat with someone you love and learn what it’s like to not ask why. We keep having one thought too many. Remember to breathe. Here, with me. In... and out... In... and out... In... and out...

We ask ourselves whether we exist. Would you ask your neighbor that? Why is the evidence for my two hands less than the evidence for your non-existence? Has skepticism ever cradled your cheek? There is no maze, you're having a panic attack.

Philosophy is nonsense, but it's the kind of nonsense you must pay attention to. The only way out is to let it unravel. A bird has never built its own cage. The mind is not a nest. Please, rest. It's okay to be naked.

No one is a philosopher at birth.

On every mountain height
Is rest

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, "Wanderer's Nightsong"

Image: Norham Castle, Sunrise by JMW Turner (c. 1845)