So, when one succeeds in reaching a state of experienced non-self, what is the reward? There can't be any, because there's no recipient. I suppose there can be no punishment either. But still, what would your previous, pre-enlightenment self think?
The thing I love about desire is the thing I love about desire, which is the thing I love about desire.
I love desire. I'm attached to desire. I enjoy experiencing desire. I desire experiencing desire, I desire desiring the experience of desire, and so on, not necessarily ad infinitum because there's only so much processing power you can dedicate to fueling this train of thought. But the point stands: desire is self-replicating. It's also specific and differentiated per person. There is no one else who experiences wanting, and the enjoyment of wanting, in exactly the same way that I do.
What would I gain from convincing myself that I do not want this thing that I do want? How could I want to not want, when I find so much wonder in wanting?
I think that, in some sense, the thing that differentiates acts of destruction from acts of killing is the object of the act being some form of an optimization process. It's alive when it has an aspect that is self-replicating (or at least something-replicating, given that the something is somewhat consistent), so killing it becomes murder.
Many aspects of conscious existence are self-replicating, meaning it is possible to commit multiple suicides. When the result is that the self-replicating pattern is gone, the impression of the rest of you is that you are no longer burdened by it, and it falsely paints a positive picture of the act. It is blatant self-destruction, but I suppose whoever is pursuing that path wouldn't mind, with an exception made for the gruesome, regular kind.
Me, I'd rather let myself perpetuate.
______
* If this is a verb rather than a noun, then I mean it intransitively, just like that final "perpetuate"
No comments:
Post a Comment