The Rubinshteinic Philosophy of Accepting Death

(Philosocom's directory on death: https://www.philosocom.com/post/defining-death)

(Philosocom's Subcategory on Suikoden Content)

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The Rubinshteinic Philosophy of Accepting Death

As you've probably read thus far, I have a large affinity with death, not because I'm suffering, but because I view death from the point of view of a "soldier" or a monk," as one who discards the worldly in favor of "higher" pursuits.

The following year was a bit revolutionary for me. As a physicalist, or as someone who believes that everything existent is physical, I let myself be more open to the arcane; the same set of fields I was taught by my Western roots to be but mumbo-jumbo. However, as I've dug deeper into it, most notably the field of numerology, I've found things that were mostly true about me, which got me wondering how such things are decided; and what trivial things, such as my birthdate and name, say about me as a person, simply because I have them.

Digging further, while trying to combat my cursed chronic fatigue, I have found out this revolutionary paragraph, when referring to the number 9 -- my "Life-Path" number:

"A basic understanding of reincarnation is desirable because this lifetime is likely to be your last. 9s are old souls who have lived many lifetimes. Haven’t you ever wondered why nothing really shocks you? It is because you have seen and done it all before. You have existed in every form, color, race, creed, gender, and circumstance. You have traveled in every walk of life. Of course, this does not mean that you have learned all you need to learn, and your experiences in this lifetime will make that very clear. Be prepared to LET GO of previous beliefs and learn something new."

If it is true, and if reincarnation is especially true, then... I always wondered what happens after death, even before I became a philosopher. It was one of the basic questions I constantly asked myself before I knew the concept of philosophizing. Back then, and to this day, I tend to think that, when you die, the "whole world" becomes black and that's it; something like a blind man or woman lives.

Perhaps I have unconsciously adopted this from the video games I played. Because when your character died there, the screen would turn black and you would "respawn", a.k.a., return to the game from an earlier point. To this day, I think that my own "screen" will turn black when I die. Of course, respawning doesn't make sense in the real world, as life is not a video game, and vice versa.

But what if I too will die, and I'll find myself in an infinite "black," where I could not run away from, where I would stay forever, with no chance of anything happening whatsoever? What if death is but an eternal, solitary confinement, where you can't even move or generate thoughts? Reincarnation or not, that thing could be a possibility once one dies or when one is "out" of "extra lives".

None of us really know what's in there after the moment we die, or at least that's what I believe. I believed in reincarnation as a kid, as I did in the Abrahamic god, but that was before I was far more rational and skeptical. I even thought I had my own past lives, whom, for some reason, I knew. I recall believing I was a bear who died after getting trapped by a hunter; a singer who got lynched; there were more "memories", but I do not remember them any longer.

My childhood "hero", the fictional character Razro from Suikoden IV, can die at the end of anyone's playthrough, especially when you're playing without knowing how to fully recruit all your army members, known as the "Stars of Destiny". Suikoden, you see, cannot be completed fully without a guide, because if you're playing blindly, without knowing even the thinnest of details, then you're going to get the BAD ENDING, or at least its equivalent, the lesser ending.

Watching, as a kid, my childhood hero's corpse drift away in a boat at sea, was probably the catalyst for my own, solitary obsession with death. There was a recruit in that game, someone you can miss extremely easily, and because of them, you'll see your player character floating dead at sea, no matter how much you play. It took me a few years to realize that there is an alternative ending; the one where the hero actually gets to live.

For some reason, I wanted my hero to die. It was a rational ending for me. It was a worthy conclusion to a game where your main "superpower" damages you. The whole game was about how certain people die, due to having a rune on their hands that consumes their lives over time and in general. Now, as I write this, I realize that's the thing I wanted all along for him, not because I hate him, but because his finite death, his sacrifice, justifies his destiny, his function in the world he operated in... His "Tikkun". It is just, from a literary perspective, that he will not return!

The reason is because he suffered so much. Sacrificed so much of his life and himself. It is truly a saddening tale of a former knight who regained the things he lost.... at the price of his independence from that burdern-some, Rune of Punishment. His very gift, that saved a group of islands from an evil empire, was his own personal curse. Giftedness is a liability of its own.

Even in the sequel to that game (a spin-off), Razro will not return unless you get the best ending in the previous game, saved in this physical object-- the Memory Card. Should he return, it would be, but for being an extra character, an additional unnecessity.

And the thing is, I always liked to think that Razro was me; A silent "soldier" doing his assignments. Everything he does, is determined by the game, and there is no escape from it. Even when you have certain choices, they eventually return you to the main plot, or literary CANCEL themselves upon selection, for some reason, even though they are still "options". Many people may think that "mechanic" is stupid, but for me, it's like the game saying to you:

"You are confined to your current existence; you cannot escape from what you are confined to".

Hehehehe... The illusion of choice.

This reminds me of my own life, because I too have this intuitive feeling that my life's destiny is sealed. Of course, I have the power to change my own life by making unusual choices, such as turning to crime, religion, or politics..... but there is this very, very heavy feeling that "confines" me to "the ground," as if I do not have free will, but instead am a slave to my own desires and needs. I am a believer in freedom, but I myself don't feel free, when I think of my own potential.

Yes. I see myself but a puppet to philosophy. I always philosophized, hence my mastery in this craft. You might be witnessing something that could've been destined by my own existence.

It saved my life once... It restored me from a temporary physical disability. It helped me kill of my sensitivity...

I am a slave to my own giftedness.

Why do you think I write? It is a duty that I literally feel like doing, like homework, as a student. The more I write, the more something inside of me is satisfied, to the point that I had the actual power to get up from the bed I lie in, during my Reaping Fatigue Era. It was an extremely sensual thing. Not a fetish, mind you, but something I have from an "authority"; a heavy, fat "figure" that lies within me and confines me to this bed to write.

So... perhaps, even if reincarnation is revealed as truly existent, my own time on Earth may be my last, not exclusively due to the paragraph I quoted, but because I too am tired of this world; of the things that make many excited by it.

Excited about the things that make many happy. They all seem to me like casual Tuesdays. An endless rain of Tuesdays. When I hear on the news that someone has been murdered, all I feel is apathy, simply because many people die every day anyway.

When I hear someone is born to people I know, I automatically remind myself that many people are born every day. When I saw that damn road in London, the one that a family member was excited about because it is iconic to the Beatles, all I could think of was how it was similar to the scenery in my own country.

Even in celebratory events, all I could think about was what will be next -- the next lesson, the next assignment at work, and so on. The refreshments from the functions to be fulfilled are either a distraction or a function of themselves as a rejuvenation. Nonetheless, each task has a beginning and an end, and life is but a series of tasks, is it not?

Is it not?

Nothing truly excites me, even when I am, in a way, "excited." I will not scream in happiness; I will not sink in celebration at nightclubs. A student from my past has told the class, that he "can't even imagine him [me] doing these things."

I slowly became emotionless. I am prepared for the inevitable possibility of death.

I guess that's why writing philosophy is the only thing that makes me feel proud, and accomplished. It's not arrogance, or a sense of entitlement; it could be the possibility that I might die one day, and all I will see, sense, and experience, is complete, eternal darkness, all because there are no more tasks left to complete; or articles left to write.

It will be when I will be discharged from the duties I've been assigned in this world.

If everything that exists is rational and/or necessary, then I might, one day, be too irrational, too unnecessary, to live, even to the point of not returning.

I do not fear it, for it will come regardless of my efforts. We choose to resume living, thus we choose grief.