There is no philosophy other than anti-philosophy.
There is no philosophy other than anti-philosophy.
―
Atrona Grizel
It is understood
through the renewed realization that the self is an illusion, and through once
again becoming aware of how everything can nevertheless exist; the result is a
cosmic depersonalization.
―
Atrona Grizel
The best way to
overcome shyness is to dive into the realm of existential questions. A person
who hesitates to speak in public does so because their focus remains on
society. If that focus is shifted away from society and directed toward the
universe, shyness diminishes, because society becomes insignificant. Modern
therapeutic methods often try to force such people to be “self-confident,” yet
this is not very effective. What is effective is becoming aware of deeper
realities, such as death. Someone who knows that everyone will die, and who
therefore realizes that even the self is an illusion, will no longer feel shame
when standing before a crowd, but rather a sense of disgust. This is the state
that occurs in the elderly as they prepare for death; unlike the young, they do
not have an unlived life ahead of them, but have personally witnessed and
tasted its futility and transience, and therefore feel a cold detachment from
social rituals. This is not because such a person feels “superior,” but because
the entire social game begins to feel pointless when confronted with deeper
dimensions of existence.
―
Atrona Grizel
When I focus
obsessively on something, I can spend an entire day absorbed in that task and
forget the world altogether. That focus is usually directed toward something I
am intensely passionate about, such as writing a story. This absorption can
also extend to producing visual art and composing music, which have been my
dreams since adolescence, because I want to be a writer, a painter, and a
composer all at once. For now, I can regard myself as a writer. As for being a
painter and a composer, although I have fictional landscapes and unique
soundtracks in my mind, I do not yet have the tools or the ability to translate
them into external forms. I hear symphonies I cannot yet play. I see paintings
I cannot yet draw. For example, there’s a divine hymn hundreds of lines long in
my head, but the physical talent I have only allows me to bring out a few
lines. And when I look at what I’ve created, I feel nothing but weariness. Is
this really what I’m going to deal with? Nonsense. Even the very act of
external expression, no matter how it is done, is metaphysically flawed anyway,
because the more that leaves me, the less remains truly mine. This is because
my inner world developed very quickly, while my hands lagged behind. Society
spouts things like “waiting for university” as a prerequisite for developing
such physical abilities, but my talents had already emerged long before that.
Because they were never cultivated, however, they never reached a sufficiently
satisfying level. Since I also had no interest in the childish concerns of my
peers, my teenage years were effectively wasted due to the lack of a genuinely
intellectual environment. This led me to develop a deep distrust of
institutions, and so I became self-taught. Even that, though, was not enough. I
have entire worlds in my mind and no means to translate them. If this
translation were to become possible someday, my inner world would expand so
excessively that it would almost literally swallow the outer world, because I
would devote my entire day to these pursuits with deep pleasure. It would reach
such a level that I forget to eat and even to sleep. These are the necessary
conditions for building an ecosystem within myself in which I can breathe. No,
I do not write this in a career sense. On the contrary, it concerns my greatest
ideal: replacing the external world with something sounder, that is, creating
an inner world so immense that it could annihilate society and civilization
completely, like a mad scientist developing a weapon capable of destroying an
entire galaxy.
―
Atrona Grizel
They say, “Don’t
think too much.” I ask, “Why?” They say, “Because there’s no answer to be
found.” “Then,” I say, “think by not looking for an answer.” They just stare at
me when I say this, then they laugh, because I’m implying that the issue isn’t
thinking itself, but its method. After all, once someone has found an excuse
not to think, everything else just rolls right off them.
―
Atrona Grizel
I live every
moment carrying the weight of the lives I never lived and will never live. For
a mind trapped within its own boundaries, a single life may be more than
enough. But for minds that recognize no limits, this single form of existence,
into which the universe physically compresses the self, is a source of madness.
To transcend physicality is necessary in order to be free, to force the
universe to its knees, even if the outcome is abstraction from the body, a
severing from this concrete body that still belongs to the universe.
―
Atrona Grizel
How pathetic I was back then, allowing other people’s thoughts to influence my
own, because how little I knew at the time that these people had nothing to do
with me, that they were thinking entirely toward something else. I said
solitude; they understood lack of people. I wrote alienation; they read it as
hatred of oneself. I praised independence; they saw it as sharing on social
media, with rap music in the background, that not needing others is “badass”…
―
Atrona Grizel
I am not an emperor; I am the god who creates emperors and withdraws from the
stage to watch them.
―
Atrona Grizel
In an environment
where everyone says the opposite of what you say, in order not to lose faith in
what you yourself say, you must be dogmatic about it. Not as ignorance, but as
self-defense. Because if you are the only person thinking the right thing in a
place where everyone thinks the wrong thing, then in order not to lose your
sense of self by getting used to that wrongness and eventually accepting it as
right, you must surround yourself with walls against their views. Because you
are the only one who knows that they are wrong. They will never accept that
they are wrong. Remaining in such a situation for a long time, if a person has
a weak mind, leads to assimilation, and in the end that person joins the blind
herd as well. Anyone who does not know how to stand apart from the crowd should
not attempt to think differently.
―
Atrona Grizel
The main reason
for my solitude is that it is extremely difficult to find a solitary person of
quality. Even when people are alone, they tend to use their solitude for
self-promotion or reduce it to a subject of constant rage and frustration.
There are very few individuals for whom solitude is not a pit into which they
have fallen, but a fortress they consciously claim and defend. Even among
these, most are simply those who find the world “uninteresting”; that is, their
solitude is not the result of a philosophical refusal, but merely an emotional
withdrawal. It is commonly assumed that solitary people are solitary because
they are “inadequate,” and this assumption is often correct, because something
as noble as solitude has repeatedly been degraded into an instrument for the
disgrace of the rabble. When I briefly and partially immersed myself among this
crowd, which constitutes the majority of solitary people, I had the opportunity
to observe their views closely and discovered that they did little more than
complain incessantly about loneliness. There was neither an inner world capable
of grounding an ontology nor a distinct metaphysical framework deliberately
constructed. They were simply lonely. They carried nothing within themselves.
In that sense, they were justified in calling themselves “losers.” Where they
are unjust is in projecting this “loser” subculture onto solitude as such. The
solitude of a mystic and the loneliness of an aggressive young person shaped by
the internet age are fundamentally different conditions. For this reason,
through my noble solitude, I have permanently severed myself from those hollow
lonely people who embody the only form of solitude one is likely to encounter
in others.
―
Atrona Grizel
The reason I
cannot perform any compulsory activity that requires physical movement and
labor is not fear or reluctance, but simply that I do not inhabit my body. I
live through thought, not through action, yet those who try to force me to
descend from mind to body do not understand this. They shout at me, they even
kick me, but it still does not work, because this is simply something that is
structurally impossible. Even when I am carrying an object, it feels as if I am
watching the emptiness of space from the orbit of a planet on the far side of
the universe. It is not I who carry the object; only my hands do, and because I
am not the one carrying it, I become distracted, and naturally the likelihood
of dropping it increases. My mind has succeeded in escaping the Earth and now
lives elsewhere, but physical action forces me to be reduced to this narrow
space, which leads only to confusion and further dissociation. Any physical
task is nothing more than an absurd ritual hardly performed by my “shell.” As
for activities that require even greater physical exertion, such as running and
swimming, I do not even want to think about them; they are not possible,
becacuse I am not life’s participant but its observer. In gymnastics classes,
where I am forced to do these things, the only thing I will probably gain is a
slap, but after a while even those responsible for these slaps will grow so
bored that they will simply set me aside. Exactly as I want it. Leave me alone
in my fog.
―
Atrona Grizel
Everything has been named, everything has been classified, everything is known…
and this makes my head spin. I feel as if I am suffocating because humans have
occupied the entire context. Their traces are everywhere: the ground is theirs,
the horizon is theirs, the sky is theirs. There is no free space left;
everything can be addressed with something, because everything has been
assimilated into language. Everything can now be called by a name, because
everything has a word, and this is nothing but an ontological captivity that
annihilates even nothingness itself.
―
Atrona Grizel
People who are ordinarily irritable and angry suddenly become docile when they
are struck by a severe physical illness, and this makes me feel grateful to the
illness. I wish they would remain that way. But they do not: once they overcome
the illness, they immediately return, by “recovering,” to their former
“healthy” states.
―
Atrona Grizel
Abstract pain is
bearable, but concrete pain is more maddening because it prevents a person from
abstracting themselves. If there is deep pain in my body, it imprisons my self
within that body, because I constantly feel that physical pain, and this forces
me to feel concretely. If it reaches an extreme level, then the mind is again
compelled to “slip away” from the body. This is why those subjected to severe
torture can appear as if they are “floating among the clouds” despite the
intense pain, because the body is a vulnerable piece of flesh in which the
brain is trapped, and since even the brain cannot block the pain due to being
stuffed into the body, it desperately depersonalizes itself as the only
possible remedy.
― Atrona Grizel