The Rubinshteinic Tragic Tale of Immortalization

(Immortality Directory: https://www.philosocom.com/post/the-danger-of-immortality)

(Philosocom's Directory on Heart)

The Rubinshteinic Tragic Tale of Immortalization

Geniuses are like thunderstorms. They go against the wind, terrify people, cleanse the air -- Soren Kierkegaard

Do you want to take a leap of faith or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone? -- From "Inception"

(Background music)

When it comes to love, the heart is fragile for many. How ironic that for the sweet, sweet nectar of love, one must prepare to suffer, for love, love is not only pleasant. Love also hurts.

It takes much strength, as well as virtue, to throw such a precious gem of an organ, into the arena of love like a pair of backgammon cubes.

The heart aches with hope and anticipation, but the numbers that land are never guaranteed. For in this world, nothing, nothing is guaranteed entirely. Life. Life is but a game of risk, and you only have one life to gamble with.

As a mad genius, I gambled my life with sabotage, and unlocked opportunities most people will never get to experience in their entire lifetimes.

What you see from your position, is not necessarily what I see from my position. Sometimes, you're so good at what you do, you end up feeling bittersweet, or "Setsunai". Alone, and with a lover.

And as much as you enjoy love and cherish it, it will always fade. The nectar is finite, and all you're left with are memories, once the nectar you gamble your life for, drains its final drop.

So if that nectar is finite, why not seize every single drop of it until the bitter end?

There is a cruel truth embedded in the silence after a lover's touch fades: You might want it again. You might not even just "want" it. You might crave for it, and turn obsessive. Love hurts, love is great, love is a most addictive substance, and in many cases, it comes unexpected.

That nectar is so intoxicating it can distract you from the need to use your merit to survive. Love can feel so important, more than water, more than coffee, more than beer. Love can make you want do commit heroic acts. Without a grain of logical personhood, love can make you crazy like that.

Love, in its most romanticized form is a rare jackpot. And even when you get that happy ending, where you live with each other until the bitter end, can make you still feel bittersweet, as if something is still amiss. Most of us, even those who walk down the aisle and build lives together, are playing a game with an inevitable end.

That inevitable end is the fact that humans die. Humans are not immortal. Humans are mortal, and can go out in any moment, intentionally or otherwise. The one you love, a human, supplies you that nectar.

Are you willing to become disillusioned? Because falling in love is NOT true love. True love comes from accepting reality. And what is reality, if not bittersweet? What is reality, if not a seemingly-infinite layers of silver linings, which compel the truly smart to develop the habit of looking both ways?

We offer our hearts, and others offer theirs, but only for a fleeting season. The warmth is ALWAYS fleeting, for LIFE ITSELF is fleeting, and the person you love can decide to leave you alone at any moment, because they own their lives as much as you own your life.

The certainty of "forever" is a fantasy, a beautiful lie that can never exist as long as we are mortals with the freedom of choice. And when that illusory certainty crumbles, as it often does, the shards pierce. You let the heartache begin, a relentless echo of what was, a shadow of what might have been, and the fact that you cannot control fate, for the fate of death is always there, as potential.

By choosing to be still be alive, you choose the grief of your death. By choosing a lover, you also choose the grief that one day they will depart this mortal realm forever.

If that pain is not acknowledged, but repressed, it will just eat you from within, and be a constant companion in the chambers of the heart.

The ghost of my greatest heartbreak, with the mystery lady "Chen", in my case fueled a different kind of fire: a burning desire for relevance, a moral-based form of revenge, that serves as one of my many fuels, to rectify a world that will never be fully rectified.

She had painted love as a glorious prize, and talked about breaking the fortress of out respective exteriors, unknowingly, and innocently, triggering something completely different: My darkness, which I used not for power or evil, but for good.

Many step I took towards connection was met with a cold shoulder from the world, with the exception of my own powerbase, my own alternative tribe, my own alternative family. The desire to escape that constant sting of rejection led me to lurk in the dark, to build walls around a heart deemed too vulnerable.

It propelled me to seek recognition, not just to rectify the world. It propelled me to be seen, and seen I got.

Yet, will anything ever satisfy me? Will I ever achieve true satisfaction? No. Why? Because my deepest desire is to rectify the world. And the thing is, there will always be some flaw to be rectified.

All I am left is to be a living legend, as the philosopher king of Philosocom, living and writing like Sisyphus, and putting my glorious article empire on survival mode. My goal is not to live. My goal is to mentally survive a goal I will never entirely achieve, while enjoying love that will always be fleeting.

And if to be a philosophical Sisyphus, then I better imagine myself being happy.

And so, I have chosen to abstain from much of this world, because much of this world fails filling in the deep, deep hole inside of me.

I will rectify the world! Even if this is a most futile, tragic quest, I shall keep doing so, while having love my momentary, fleeting eras of sanity and refuge.

My glorious empire shall immortalize me, as a man who, in his burning passionate work, can never, ever know pure satisfaction.